#this whole fic is full of lines and moments that just make me. emotional

[fireworkss-exe]

thinking about what sophie kelly might look like across the adaptations... @glitter-ink

[omgeto]

☆ GHOSTING — GETO SUGURU X READER

summary: after being made aware of your long term ex boyfriends plans to 'fix' the world, you knew that you had to try and stop him. but seeing him for the first time in a decade; all the love, the hate, the heartbreak comes right back to you both and you realise you care about him a lot more than you thought.

wc: 4.7k (of pure goodness....)

cw: afab!reader, mdni, angst to fluff (kinda) cult leader ex boyfriend!geto, kinda sorta canon (its the day that geto yk...) he eats you out like its his last meal, half hate fucking, full making love, and a whole lot of geto being culty and cunty. this one has a plot people!!

authors note: guys yk I love a good exes to lovers fic so the argument in this one hits different and the whole idea of you and suguru breaking up just before he runs off to run his cult really gets to me, so I hope you enjoy this one.

geto suguru hasn’t seen you in years, in almost a decade, and is still reeling harshly from how you left him when he needed you. but somehow he finds himself rushing to meet you when he gets the four word text from your number—which is still saved in his phone under ‘my girl’— saying, ‘we need to talk.’

he knows exactly what you want to speak about, he could easily put together why today of all days you’d want to see —after vanishing him for just over a decade. he figured gojo probably gave word to you, as from when you’ve been young and growing up together, you’ve all known that if gojo couldn’t get through to him, you could.

he opens the door to your apartment, knowing that you wouldn’t have locked it—you always had a habit of leaving it open for him. and there you are, standing in the dimly lit room, waiting for his arrival. the years have etched subtle changes onto your face and in your demeanour, but the essence of who you are remains unchanged. time may have separated you, but in this moment, it feels as though it has never passed.

“you can't do this,” is the first thing you say, your voice steady despite the unexpected surge of emotions upon seeing him again. you didn't think seeing him after all this time would affect you, but it did. his hair is longer, his frame more imposing, but that unmistakable smirk remains, a haunting reminder of the man you once knew.

“wow right to the chase,” he chuckles bitterly, his presence taking up the room as he enters the room further, “i forgot you never really had a thing for beating around the bush.”

you meet his bitter chuckle with a steady gaze, your resolve unwavering. the years of separation have done nothing to diminish the intensity of your connection, the push and pull between you two.

"it's not the time for games, suguru," you reply, your tone serious. "you know why i called you here."

he sighs, his shoulders slumping ever so slightly. the weight of his plans, the burden he carries, is evident in the lines etched on his face. "i figured you'd call sooner or later."

the room seems to shrink as the gravity of the situation hangs between you. the man you once knew, the one who could make your heart race with a smile, now stands before you, shrouded in darkness.

"i won't let you go through with this," you say firmly, your eyes never leaving his. "there's another way, suguru. there has to be."

for a moment, his façade cracks, and you catch a glimpse of the person he used to be, the one who believed in a better world. but then the hardness returns to his eyes, and he steps closer, his presence overwhelming.

"you always were too idealistic," he mutters, almost to himself. "but i can't turn back now. the world needs this change."

"what happened to you?" you snap out, your words laced with a bitter edge that hangs heavily in the air. it's a question that carries the weight of your years of frustration, anger, and confusion. but you knew what happened to him; everyone knew.

his reaction is immediate, and the room seems to tremble with his anger. his gaze narrows, and the atmosphere becomes charged with tension. "you don't get to ask that," he spits out, his voice dripping with bitterness. "you left, remember? you abandoned me when i needed you the most."

“it wasn’t like that,” you argue, leaning forward, your body tense. “by the time i left you were already gone, being physically present in a relationship doesn’t mean anything if your mind is fucking checked out all the time. at that point i was just dating a shell of you.” 

“is that how you justify it?" he retorts, his anger unabated. "you think leaving was the solution?”

you clench your fists, your own anger rising to meet his. "i did what i had to do to protect myself, suguru. you were spiralling, consumed by your own darkness. I couldn't save you"

his eyes blaze with a mixture of fury and hurt. "you think i needed saving?

“you still need saving,” you scoff gesturing to him standing right in front of you, “just because you couldn’t save—”

“don’t even go there,” he interrupts, his hand raising to stop you. he knew you were talking about riko, “i’ve made peace with that.”

“oh have you?” you accuse, “since it seems to me, you’ve been on a killing spree, ever since.”

“other people died y’know,” he hisses out, “remember haibara? he was your fucking friend, but you weren’t even there.”

“this isn’t about me,” you say disregarding his comment, regret seeping through you, “you think i haven’t kept tabs on you since i’ve been away. who have you become?”

he glares at you, his anger evident. "i've become what the world needs," he snaps, his voice heavy. "someone willing to do what it takes to change things."

"and is killing a village full of people the way to do that?" you challenge, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and sorrow. "killing your..." You pause, overwhelmed by the thoughts and images of what he's done. "was killing your parents worth it?"

his expression hardens, and for a moment, you see a glimmer of regret in his eyes, but it's quickly masked by his resolve. "i had to make sacrifices," he says coldly. "it's a small price to pay for a greater cause."

“you can’t truly think that,” you say, taking a step closer to him, your fists still clenched at your sides. “how did it feel killing them then? to take away the lives of your own parents who were innocent?” you probe, you knew that there was some part of him that must feel bad.”

“you’re about… ten years too late to be trying to have this conversation with me,” he shrugs, the turmoil that geto felt when he first set out on his mission has ceased. the guilt he felt for killing his parents, even the grief he had for something that he caused, wasn’t a factor for him anymore.

your frustration boils over as you press him further. "so, you've become heartless, then?" you challenge. the room seems to tighten around you as you await his response. "a cold-blooded killer who's convinced himself that the ends justify the means?"

geto's gaze narrows, his patience dwindling. "it's not about being heartless. it's about doing what's necessary to achieve our goals."

"your goals," you emphasise, "not mine. and not the goals of the innocent people you've hurt along the way."

he sighs, exasperation creeping into his voice. "you always had a way of making everything so complicated, questioning every choice. you left because you couldn't handle the real world."

you shake your head, unwilling to accept his justifications. "no, i left because i couldn't stand by and watch you become a monster."

“so i’m just a monster, yeah?” he retorts, stepping towards you, his anger evident across his face, you could see your words triggered him, and as he gets closer you could feel your facade faltering. 

your heart races as he approaches, and you raise a hand instinctively, palm out, to signal him to stop. "don't come any closer," you warn, your voice trembling with a mixture of fear and anger. there was no rational reason to be scared of him, you’ve known him for years, and despite everything that he’s done —what he’s become— there was still a part of you that believed that he wouldn’t hurt you.

but geto ignores your plea, his determination unwavering. he grabs your hand firmly, his grip surprisingly gentle despite the intensity of the moment. his dark eyes bore into yours, and he speaks in a low, taunting tone, "why? are you scared that with me being this close, you're going to realise that you loved a monster? that you're still in love with him?"

you grit your teeth, refusing to let him get under your skin. "suguru, you don't get to manipulate me with your twisted version of love," you retort, your voice laced with defiance. "i won't let you use my feelings against me.

his words hit you like a punch to the gut, and you're torn between the conflicting emotions swirling inside you. the memories of the love you once shared, the pain of his transformation into something unrecognisable, and the lingering attraction between you all crash together in this charged moment.

you try to pull your hand away, to regain control of the situation, but geto's grip tightens, preventing your escape. his face inches closer to yours, and despite your better judgement, your breath hitches. “manipulation, huh?” geto muses, his mouth so close to yours that you feel his breath faintly brush across your lips. you look up at him through your lowered eyelashes, and in that fleeting pause, so small that it’s almost imperceptible, you find yourself considering the gravity of your actions, if only for a moment.

the feeling of doubt is short lived, as you press your lips against geto’s, his mouth immediately moulding into yours. the kiss is searing, as you push your bodies against each other, he releases your hand from his grip, his hands move to cradle your head, holding it in place as he deepens the kiss, bruising your lips with his.

everything about geto is familiar, the taste of him, the warmth of his mouth, the way he consumes you. his tongue explores yours, wrestling for control as your arms scratch at him trying to tug off his robe. you wanted him to feel you, all of you—your touch, your lips, your hurt, your anger, the love that you still have that you thought was small. but after seeing him, kissing him, you realise is still an overwhelmingly large part of you.

you pull apart to catch your breath, staring hard at each other, but there’s barely a moment wasted before your back on eachother. kissing each other feverishly, as you rip off each other's clothes, he pushes you hard, your back slamming against the nearest piece of furniture as his mouth latches onto your neck. his kisses cascade down your body, stopping at your breasts as he unhooks your bra, tossing it aside.

“i missed these,” he murmurs, as his lips descend onto your tits, his face nuzzling at your chest as he sucks and pulls at your nipples with his teeth. “and i missed this,” he continues to mumble, his hands cupping your clothed pussy, his finger lightly caressing your slit. 

you arch forward into his touch, wanting to feel him more and chuckles saying, “even after all these years, you still respond to my touch just the same.” his fingers plunge into your panties, brushing against your clit and he smirks as your lips part a stifled moan escaping your lips—proving his point.

“s-shut up,” you hiss out, as you slowly start to gyrate against his fingers. although it was obvious from the way you were already soaking your underwear, you didn’t want to admit how good he is actually making you feel—you just couldn’t give him the satisfaction. geto raises his eyebrows at you in amusement, as he watches you bite your lip trying to contain your moans, as his fingers inch into your inviting pussy.

geto’s body moves down yours as he removes his lips from your tits, continues to press kisses down your stomach, as he drops down to his knees —his eyes level with your cunt. he presses a kiss to your covered pussy, before sliding off your panties. his mouth is just about to latch onto you but he pauses looking up at you, his gaze unwavering, “you want this right?” you nod slowly, your anticipation brewing as your eyes lock onto his, “use your words.”

you release an exasperated huff, but he remains steadfast, his raised eyebrow a silent declaration that he won't act until you tell him what he wants to hear. the room seems to pulse with tension, the growing desire between you mounting with each heartbeat.

your hands slide it’s way into his hair, pushing your fingers through his scalp, as you grin, you voice is low and sultry as you say, “i want it.” his mouth envelopes your pussy and you push his head into you deeper, forcing your nose into your arousal. he inhales you, taking in your scent as he presses his face in your cunt. 

“such a pretty pussy,” he mutters lowly, you could feel the vibrations spread through your pussy. his tongue strokes down your slit, before pushing into you, he twists and slurps at you trying to suck out all of your juices. 

geto nibbles at your clit, tugging at it with his teeth before bringing his fingers back to cunt. shoving two fingers in roughly. you pull his hair harshly, the feeling of his mouth sucking on your clit leaving your mind blank. “ah f-fuck,” you cry out, as geto’s strokes grow more intense.

“c’mon let me hear you more,” geto prompts, pulling away slightly from your pussy, his lips plump and coated from your wetness. he grabs one of your legs and hikes it over his shoulder, the angle allowing him to force his fingers into you further, curling them up in your pussy as he goes back to shoving his face in your sobbing cunt.

you grind your pussy in his face, working with him in getting you off. both of your movements were frantic, geto is eating your pussy with such eagerness, hungrily trying to drink all of your cum. “i’m close s-sugu i’m—” you choke out, feeling yourself slipping down the wall you pressed against, but geto holds you upright, his large hand keeping your thigh hooked over his shoulder and roughly pushing you up against the wall.

geto grins against your cunt, your moans and cries is a sound he didn’t realise how much he missed until he heard them now. you laboured breathing, stammered sentences told him that you were reading cum, but he just had to push you further. so he adds one more finger, sending it straight to your spot, twisting and pushing it in your pussy so hard that tears brim your eyes. he was so relentless, you always loved that about him, how he knows your body in and out, he knew exactly where to touch, and just how far he should push to have you becoming a mess for him.

you couldn’t take him anymore, so you cum, hard. your pussy releasing ropes and ropes of cum, all over geto’s fingers and his face, and he laps at it, munching all your cum with excitement. “i know you can give me more than that,” he muses, pressing his thumb down on your clit, rubbing at it aggressively as you cum. your eyes roll back, as he repeatedly flicks at your cum, and before you know it, you're squirting all over his face.

geto’s eyes widen, and he doesn’t stop playing with your pussy, until you bow your head in submission, worn out from all the cum you’ve released over him. your hands slide out of his hair, as you try and catch your breath and geto peppers your cunt and your thighs with kisses finally letting your thigh come off his shoulders. “damn your pussy’s still as sweet as ever.”

“stop with the talking,” you mumble, as you pull him up to his feet, your lips forcing their way back onto him. your hands frantically explore each other's bodies as you drag him to your bedroom, pushing him on your bed. “i can’t fucking stand you,” you mutter to yourself, your denial evident, as you straddle him, pulling his dick out of his boxers.

you pause briefly at the sight, his thick, long dick staring at you. you hear geto chuckle at your reaction, your eyes meet his with a challenging look exchanged between you, he raises his eyebrow at you, a silent dare on whether you’ll actually be able to get the control that you’re aiming to have. 

you hover over his dick, your pussy still dripping, geto bites his lip in anticipation as you tease him, slowly edging yourself down onto him. your pussy greedily, takes in his dick as you force yourself down on him as immediately fills you, stretching out your cunt with one push. you start to ride him, hard and fast, rocking your body forward as you bounce up and down on him, your hand pressing down on his stomach to keep you steady.

geto sits up, stifling a moan as he feels your cunt clench around his dick with everyone of your movements. he tries to thrust up into you, but he just can’t match the relentless rhythm you had, “f-fuck,” he exhales, a moan escaping his mouth, and you smirk —you have him just where you wanted him.

“you alright there suguru?” you mock, the grin spread across your face unmissable as you grind yourself down against him, tightening your pussy around his pole as you slid up and down. the bite on his lip hardens as he pulls it further between his teeth to suppress another moan.

but geto doesn’t submit for long, his hand slaps you across your tits and his fingers pinch your nipples, twisting and tugging them, causing you to arch your back as you wail. “d’you r-really think you run shit here?” he groans, flicking at your nipples with every word, “you’ll never be in control, not with me,” he taunts.

“oh really?” you retort, as you still continue to move your ass, meeting his hips. you can feel him start to pick up his pace, trying to match yours, his hips slightly thrusting upwards, his dick pushing into you deeper.

“yeah,” he says confidently through gritted teeth, one of his hands pulling away from your nipples and onto your ass, harshly grabbing one of your cheeks to steady himself as he drills into you further, “because you’re still my girl.” 

you still at his words, you knew he didn’t mean it but you couldn’t help but react to the name that he always used to refer to you as. geto could see your eyes become vacant, as you think back to the memories when you were truly his girl. you used to revel in that —the feeling of being his. he takes advantage of your pause, your rhythm halted as he takes over, now setting the pace as he charges his dick into you, stuffing you further. 

“suguru f-fuck you’re so—” you sob out, as he breaks down your wall, his strokes hitting your spot perfectly. your body buckles, crumbling at the force that geto was using as he repeatedly thrusts into you, his hand pushing you in further so his dick can get an even better angle in you.

“i’m so what?” he retorts, knowing you wouldn’t be able to string an answer together from the way he is fucking you dumb. geto couldn’t deny that he is getting some joy out seeing you all drunk on his dick, reduced to nothing but moans and incoherent sentences, he liked being the one to break you down. “am i still a monster, someone you can’t stand being around?”

you sloppily nod your head, trying to keep some resolve, but your efforts are pointless since all the insults and accusations you were spouting earlier are now futile, you lost your care in getting him to do the right thing, all you want now is for him to stay like this — inside of you. 

“s-shit i can’t take it a-anymore im gonna cu—” you force out, clenching yourself around little his dick hard as you feel your orgasm building up. but geto’s movements stop for a second as he pulls his dick out of you, flipping you over, your back landing hard on your bed. he leans over you, his focus fixed on you, but at this point, his eyes don’t hold the same heartache, and hurt that they did when he first stepped into your house. the geto that is looking at you now, is the one who’d always look at you everyday, ten years ago —with love and longing.

he strokes his dick down your aching pussy, teasing you with it, but just before he puts it in, his hand caresses your face cupping your chin as he says, “when i said you were still my girl, i meant it y’know?” and your lips part in surprise at his admission. “although it hurt me, when you left me, you just never stopped being my girl.”

“suguru i-i don’t know what to say,” you stammer, and you didn’t realise until he swipes under your eye, that you were crying. there was so much more to your relationship with geto than just some highschool romance, you loved another, and no one could tell you otherwise. 

“tell me that you are,” he prompts, now pressing kisses to your tear stained face, his lips moving down to yours, “tell me that you are still my girl,” he finishes in between kisses. his hopeful eyes still remain on yours, and you could feel him slowly inching his dick into you.

you wrap your legs around his back, your arms hooking around his neck as you pull his head next to yours, your mouth near his ear as you whisper, “i am still yours.” he pushes his dick back into you, his strokes deep and slow. it was different from before, there was no competition or hate between you as you fucked, you didn’t have a point to prove other than the fact that you still loved each other. 

geto’s moans are loud, he has nothing to hold back as he growls lowly in your ear. the way he holds you, and takes his time kisses you and fucking you as if he was accounting for this potentially being his last ever time doing so. “i’ll never get enough of this.”

“then don’t go,” you whine, and your words hold a deeper meaning that you both knew but won’t acknowledge knowing it is pointless to discuss any further. you pull him into you deeper, your thighs clenching around him as your hold tightens. 

the feeling of you pulling him in, has him clenching his eyes as your pussy takes him in, his mouth takes yours in a powerful kiss, before he mumbles “you gonna let me cum in you, leave you with every last bit of me.” you don’t even respond, just deepening the kiss, your head shaking in agreement.

you both cum together, geto spraying your walls as he sinks his face into the crook of your neck, sinking his teeth into your exposed flesh as he continues to shoot ropes of cum inside of you. you claw at his back as you feel all of him enter you, your cum mixing with his as you cry out in full pleasure.

his forehead rests against yours, as the last bits of his cum enter you and neither of you say anything, all that can be heard is just heavy breaths coming from the both of you. you didn’t know what was to happen now, there was still so much left unsaid, unresolved and things have changed now that geto is literally stuffed inside of you.

geto is about to pull out of you finally, but you stop him muttering a faint, “stay,” and he does. he knows he had somewhere to be, things to do that are bigger than the both of you, but he just couldn’t leave when you ask him to stay. he manoeuvres your body so that you now lay atop him, comfortably cockwarming him as he thumb brushes gentle strokes down your arm.

“y’know i’ve got these two girls, who i think would love you,” he muses.

“what? did you manage to become a father whilst i was away?” you tease.

“something like that, yeah,” he mumbles, a small smile forming on his face as thoughts of nanako and mimiko flash through his mind — they’re a bittersweet reminder of the new life he’s built without you, one that you wouldn’t be able to fit in. it wasn’t that long ago that you’d have thoughts about geto fathering your own kids, dreams of somewhat of a domestic life that you’d now never get to have with him.

“well maybe i can meet them,” you say non-committedly.

“yeah maybe…” his voice falters, as you both know that it would never happen.

“do you enjoy it then?” you ask, “this ‘new’ life of yours.” you could tell just by the brief mention of nanako and mimiko and the way he carries himself that he does enjoy his life, but you were hoping that he’d still answer no.

geto hesitates for a moment, his gaze drifting to the ceiling as he contemplates your question, “i…” he begins, his gaze returning to yours, “i won’t lie. it’s different, and there’s moments i find true solace in it, this has been my life for a long time now, so it’s just something i’ve really gotten used to.”

“and you’re happy to go back to it, after this?” your question is loaded, and you feel dumb for even asking but when you did call him over to get him to not go through with his plans, of course your motivations have slightly changed, but your goal is still the same. 

 “i don’t think you should ask me to make a choice, knowing that im not going to choose you,” he grits out, he doesn’t want to hurt your feelings, but 

“you’re not gonna win you know, satoru wouldn’t let it happen,” you couldn’t help yourself, the rejection he just gave you stung, and you wanted him to feel what you felt.

but geto doesn’t bite, he knows you’re hurting—that he’s the cause of it, so he lets you hurt, his hold tightening comfortably as you sulk in his arms. geto places a kiss on your temple, ignoring your comment as he concludes, “let’s just not, okay?”

geto stays with you until your breathing settles into a steady rhythm, and you don’t notice him slipping out of you. he cleans you up and tucks you into your bedsheets, giving you one final stare as if he’s trying to keep a mental image of how you look when he’s last seen you. his lips meet yours in a final, chaste kiss and he mutters a promise that he didn’t think you’d hear, but you do, stirring awake as his lips leave yours, “i’ll see you again… eventually.”

you wake up to an empty room, the warmth of geto's presence replaced by a stark emptiness. the realisation hits you like a wave of cold water – he's gone, leaving nothing behind but soiled sheets and a hollow ache in your chest. there's no note, no message, no trace of his ever being there, except for the lingering scent of him that clings to the air. you know that someone will eventually inform you of the outcome of the night, but deep down, you already suspect that his last promise to you will end up being broken.

AN: first like proper proper real juicy fic that ive written in a long time imo and its just like this took me so long since im soooo sensitive about my geto fics and im just like overly critical about my angsty and fluff and plot fics and my smut and JUST EVERYTHING but I managed to get it all done and I think some parts of this really hit hard. the ending is ofc bittersweet since if we go by canon, he goes and yuta beats his fuckinggg ass and he dies wtf but... the true ending is really up to your imagination. (not really) like dont even think about the ending just focus on the fact that they NEVER TELL EACHOTHER THAT THEY LOVE EACH OTHER BECAUSE UR SO IN LOVE THAT YOU ADMITTING THAT UR STILL 'HIS GIRL' IS ALL THE CONFIRMATION HE NEEDS. my finished an are sooo long why because I FUCKING CAN SO I HOPE YOU ENJOY, PLEASE LMK UR THOUGHTS AND SLAY ALL DAY also thank you @kazushawty and @biscuitsngravie for reading and supporting me 🥹🥹

[strwberri-milk]

Hi! How are you? i would like to request about Mc remember her past life, and she goes really overwhelmed about it...to the point that when she sees Rafayel, she gave her a kiss. The first one for them. And obviously he melts for the kiss. Smut

the way you just ended the ask with Smut. reminds me of that video where the guy just goes "Belt" also i didnt feel like going the whole smut route - if you want the smut hoestly, id say you can just look at this bc soft smut hcs are the direction i'd take here <3 maybe one day i'll write a full fledged fic but rn i have my hands full w boothill [pensive]

The dreams you had were slowly getting more and more realistic. You didn't quite understand why or how they were starting to come about but you first brushed them off as just that - dreams. You didn't think that there was anything too serious about them until one day you suddenly get the sense that everything you're dreaming about is somehow real.

Rafayel was on a business trip so unfortunately you couldn't even talk to him about this, struggling with these emotions yourself as you try to sift through them. Somehow, your dreams line up with the things he teases you about and you start to wonder if he knows something or if it's some weird after effect of being reincarnated?? You can't figure it out and you don't want to blow up his phone with your ramblings so you keep it to yourself until he comes home.

He shows up at your door, beginning to tell you about how he wasn't even able to go home because he missed you so much, wanting to see you right now when you look at him with tears in your eyes. He's startled to say the least, panicking a little as he asks you why you're crying when you suddenly grab him, kissing him hard.

He melts into your touch, desperate to feel your touch. He's always wanted you, always wanted to be with you but never thought that you felt the same. He just prayed and hoped that one day you would remember, that he'd be lucky enough to be with you. Even if you don't remember he doesn't mind losing himself in you like this right now, closing the door behind him as you lead him to your bedroom.

He takes you passionately, keeping you on your back and doing his best to make you cry from ecstasy. He repeats over and over how much he loves you with each bucking of his hips, kissing you breathless and telling you he's wanted you from the moment he saw you. He showers you with attention, bringing you to the peak over and over again. He's insatiable, desperate for you to feel good because of him and making up for lost time.

You're exhausted and barely coherent by the time he's done but he holds you so close. You can hear the beating of his heart in your ear, memorising the sound as you remember that it was taken from you before. You confess quietly what you've seen, the things you remember. He holds his breath, looing at you desperately as he asks if you really remember. When you confirm he holds you so tightly, telling you to rest for now and then the two of you can discuss what's next at another time.

[xtra7s]

Hi hi omg i love your writing it’s amazing! Can i request a Reneè fic where reader is in a famous band and admits in an interview how much she loves and admires Reneè (yk that clip where Reneè is like “Date me” for Rachel Mcadams) and Reneè responds and they get close and collaborate or whatever you want!

𝐄𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬𝐞𝐝

Pairing: Renee Rapp x Reader

Synopsis: Y/N, the bassist for Eclipsed, gives Renee some props during an interview and ends up hanging out with her.

Content: mainly fluff

Word Count: 2k

a/n: okay so this one was a bit confusing to write mainly because I felt like nothing was really going on, I didnt know if you wanted smut or something else so I apologize if it isnt what u wanted :(

masterlist

The excitement buzzed in the air as Y/N YL/N, the talented bassist of the rising rock band "Eclipsed," prepared for a much-anticipated interview. The band had been making waves in the music scene, and the media was eager to learn more about the individuals behind the electrifying sound. Y/N, known for their skillful bass playing and enigmatic stage presence, was ready to share their journey.

The interview took place in a trendy studio, with the band seated on a chic, modern couch. Y/N's fingers idly traced the frets on their bass, a well-worn instrument that had seen countless gigs and late-night jam sessions. The interviewer, a music journalist with an infectious passion for the industry, dove straight into the questions.

"So, Y/N, let's start with your musical journey. How did you find your way to the bass guitar?" the interviewer inquired, leaning forward.

Y/N grinned, the memory of their musical awakening evident in their eyes. "I actually started with the guitar, but one day, I heard this deep, resonant bass line that just spoke to me. It was like the heartbeat of the song, and from that moment, I was hooked. I switched to the bass, and it felt like coming home."

The rest of the band nodded in agreement, acknowledging the pivotal role Y/N played in shaping the band's distinctive sound. The lead singer, Maya, chimed in, "Y/N brings a unique energy to our music. The bass lines add a whole new layer, creating this dynamic and powerful sonic landscape."

As the conversation flowed, the interviewer shifted gears, asking about the band's creative process. Drummer Alex spoke about the collaborative nature of their songwriting, while the guitarist, Jake, discussed the influences that shaped their sound. Y/N interjected with tales of late-night jam sessions and the organic evolution of their music.

"We all bring something different to the table," Y/N explained. "It's like a musical potluck. Each of us has our own tastes and influences, and when we come together, it creates this fusion of sound that defines Eclipsed."

The conversation turned to the band's recent successes, including a sold-out show and a growing fan base. Y/N's eyes sparkled with gratitude as they reflected on the journey.

"It's been incredible," Y/N shared. "Our fans are amazing. They connect with the raw emotion in our music, and that's the most rewarding part. Music is a language that transcends words, and seeing people resonate with what we create is truly humbling."

As the interview with Eclipsed continued, the interviewer shifted gears, a mischievous glint in their eyes.

"Now, Y/N, the music world is full of incredible artists, and one rising star who seems to have captured a lot of attention is Renee Rapp. Have you had the chance to meet her, and what are your thoughts on her music?" the interviewer inquired, a sly smile playing on their lips.

Y/N's expression lit up at the mention of Renee Rapp. "Oh, Renee is fantastic! I haven't had the pleasure of meeting her in person yet, but I'm a big fan of her work. Her music has this raw authenticity that really resonates with me. It's always refreshing to see artists who pour their heart and soul into their craft."

The rest of the band nodded in agreement, expressing their admiration for Renee Rapp's talent. Maya, the lead singer, chimed in, "I love how she fearlessly embraces her uniqueness. It's inspiring to see artists who aren't afraid to be true to themselves, both in their music and their persona."

The interviewer pressed a bit further, asking if there were any specific songs or aspects of Renee Rapp's music that Y/N found particularly inspiring. Y/N thought for a moment before responding, "I really connect with the way she uses her voice to convey emotion. It's powerful and evocative. As musicians, we're always drawn to those artists who can create a genuine connection with their audience, and Renee does that exceptionally well."

The conversation then meandered into a discussion about musical influences, with each band member sharing their favorite artists and the impact those musicians had on their own sound. It was clear that Eclipsed Echoes drew inspiration from a diverse range of genres and artists, contributing to the richness of their music.

"And, Y/N, given that you've expressed admiration for Renee Rapp's talent, do you have any comments for her?" the interviewer asked, a faint hint of curiosity in their tone.

Y/N, ever composed, smiled with her teeth. "I do,-" She paused, looking at the camera directly. "Keep your head up, bitch. you're effortlessly you and that shit is wicked. You gotta remember the comments of your loved ones are the only ones that matter."

The rest of the band nodded in agreement, sensing the delicate nature of the question. Maya, the lead singer, added, "Absolutely. It's crucial to separate someone's art from their personal lives. We're all here because of our love for music, and that's what we should celebrate."

The interviewer, quickly shifted gears steering the conversation back toward the band's music and upcoming projects. Y/N, always poised and focused on the music, gracefully navigated through the interview, steering it away from personal matters and back into the realm of creativity and passion.

As the interview concluded, it was evident that the members of Eclipsed were not only talented musicians but also individuals who valued respect and professionalism in their interactions. The episode served as a reminder that, while curiosity about an artist's personal life may arise, the primary focus should always remain on the artistry and creativity that unite the diverse and dynamic world of music.

A few days after the interview, Y/N found a pleasant surprise in their Instagram inbox. It was a message from none other than Renee Rapp herself. Excitement bubbled within Y/N as they read the message.

"Hey Y/N! 🌟 I caught your interview, and it was awesome hearing your thoughts on my music. Your band's sound is killer! Would love to chat more and maybe hang out sometime. What do you say?"

Y/N quickly replied, expressing their gratitude and enthusiasm for the unexpected message. The conversation flowed effortlessly as they exchanged thoughts about music, shared favorite artists, and found common ground in their passion for creating authentic, powerful art.

Renee suggested meeting up for a casual hangout, perhaps grabbing coffee or exploring a local record store. Y/N eagerly agreed, and plans were set in motion for a meeting between two talented musicians who had connected through their shared love for the art form.

As the day of the meetup arrived, Y/N couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and nerves. They met Renee at a cozy cafe, and from the moment they greeted each other, it was clear that the connection extended beyond the digital realm. The conversation flowed effortlessly, filled with laughter, shared stories of musical journeys, and a mutual appreciation for the creative process.

Y/N and Renee's casual hangout unfolded into an afternoon of shared laughter, animated discussions about music, and an undeniable chemistry that lingered in the air. The cozy cafe provided the perfect backdrop for their burgeoning connection, with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee enhancing the warmth of the atmosphere.

As they chatted about their favorite bands and musical influences, Y/N couldn't help but be captivated by Renee's infectious enthusiasm. The conversation flowed seamlessly between topics, from the intricacies of songwriting to the exhilarating rush of performing on stage. Each shared anecdote deepened the connection, forging a bond between two artists who understood the unique challenges and joys of their chosen path.

The flirtatious banter began subtly, with playful glances and gentle teasing. Renee's laughter resonated like a melody, and Y/N found themselves drawn to her magnetic energy. As they strolled through a nearby record store, fingers lightly brushing against vinyl covers and sharing recommendations, the air seemed charged with an unspoken tension.

At a moment of quiet contemplation in the record store, Renee's gaze met Y/N's, and a playful smirk played on her lips. "You know," she said with a twinkle in her eye, "your interview made me curious. You mentioned appreciating someone's art without focusing on appearance. Do you always manage to separate the two?"

Y/N felt a flush of warmth creeping up their cheeks, realizing the subtle shift in the conversation. With a coy smile, they responded, "Well, I believe in appreciating the beauty in everything, whether it's in the artistry of music or… other things."

The air between them crackled with a newfound tension, and as they continued to explore the record store, the playful exchanges deepened into a more overt flirtation. A gentle touch on the arm here, a lingering gaze there—each gesture spoke volumes, creating an atmosphere charged with unspoken desire.

As they wrapped up their hangout, Y/N and Renee exchanged contact information, promising to meet again soon. The connection they forged went beyond the shared love for music, evolving into a magnetic attraction that lingered in the air, leaving both of them eager to explore the potential of this unexpected and thrilling connection.

In the days that followed their initial hangout, Y/N and Renee's connection deepened through playful messages and shared playlists. Their conversations became increasingly laced with flirtatious undertones, a dance of words that hinted at a mutual attraction.

One evening, Y/N received a message from Renee suggesting a joint songwriting session. The prospect of collaborating ignited a spark of excitement in Y/N, and they eagerly agreed. As they settled into the cozy ambiance of Y/N's home studio, surrounded by musical instruments and the gentle hum of creativity, the air seemed charged with both anticipation and a growing sense of intimacy.

As they worked on a new song, Y/N couldn't help but notice the subtle shifts in Renee's body language—the way she would lean in slightly, the lingering touches on shared instruments, and the occasional laughter that held a hint of something more. The energy between them was palpable, a magnetic force drawing them closer with each passing moment.

Renee, with a mischievous glint in her eyes, suggested taking a break and grabbing a snack from the kitchen.

As Y/N and Renee took a break in the cozy kitchen, the atmosphere crackled with a potent blend of creative energy and unspoken desire. The shared laughter and flirtatious banter lingered in the air, creating a magnetic pull that neither could ignore. Renee, feeling the palpable tension, decided to take a bold step.

As they stood near the kitchen island, discussing the finer details of their latest composition, Renee's gaze lingered on Y/N's lips. With a mischievous glint in her eyes, she leaned in, closing the distance between them and placing her hands on Y/N's waist. Time seemed to slow as Y/N felt the soft warmth of Renee's lips pressing against their own, and their back hitting the counter.

The kiss was electric, a spontaneous spark that ignited a fire between them. Y/N, momentarily stunned, soon reciprocated, their hands instinctively finding each other in a gentle embrace. The kitchen became a canvas for this unexpected moment, a dance of passion and shared connection against the backdrop of a creative haven.

Breaking the kiss, Renee grinned, her eyes filled with a mixture of playfulness and genuine affection. "Well, that was unexpected," she teased, her fingers gently tracing patterns on Y/N's arm.

Y/N, catching their breath, couldn't help but smile in response. "Glad you did it, Renee."

The shared laughter that followed sealed the moment, turning the kitchen into a haven where the boundaries between music and personal connection blurred. As they chatted over a plate of shared snacks, their knees brushed against each other under the table, creating a subtle yet electrifying connection. As they returned to their songwriting session, the newfound intimacy lingered, infusing their creative collaboration with an electrifying energy that promised more harmonies to come. The kitchen island, witness to the impromptu kiss, became a symbol of the uncharted territory their connection was now exploring.

[eeunoia]

ENHYPEN Imagines

insolitus | yjw.

pairings: yang jungwon x reader

synopsis: you’ve always thought jungwon is out of this world, out of ordinary. he’s someone who seems familiar but at the same time mysterious for almost everybody. you didn’t expect that he himself will unfold more of him with you and it was an insolitus experience.

word counts: 2k

warnings: yandere themes, mention of murder, violence, obsessive love, grammatical errors. (let me know if i missed some)

note: this have a part two. it was not yet ready to be released, but since some anons kept telling me to stop writing then they leave me no choice but to post something. ehe. anyway, i will fix this probably tomorrow since it doesn’t have a picture for this fic. send me asks about what you think about this. love reading your comments and replies. i love you all, please keep safe.

© eeunoia 2024 — all rights reserved.

The whole room was quiet. You might think that it was vacant, but there are two persons inside. The defeaning silence almost suffocate the officer sitting at one of the chairs. He sighs trying to lift whatever that heavy feeling he’s having ever since he entered this room.

The bright light gives a full view of the face of 17 year old, Yang Jungwon. At first look he seems to be like a normal guy, but for some reasons Officer Nam gets some odd feeling from this boy.

He draws in a sigh then taps lightly over the table while his other hand grips tightly at the folder he was holding. His eyes darted at the boy whose head hangs low at the moment and hands resting over his lap.

Despite the soft looking face, the officer couldn’t help but to feel chills while looking over his blood stained school uniform. He even have some over his face that already turned into brownish color after drying up over time.

“Okay, let me ask you again.” Office Nam cleared his throat and leaned over the table, the only thing that keeping them apart.

“I already told you, I don’t know who did it or what happened to him.” Jungwon says in a low tone, sticking to the words he said the first time they asked him.

“The blood on your shirt—” he raises his head and his brows folds in a remorseful way.

“I told y-you Sir, I found him and tried to help! His blood got all over me because of that.” Jungwon explains and he looked very convincing. The words he mutters are acceptable, but his eyes looked so blank. The police officer couldn’t point out what’s wrong, but his eyes looked so emotionless.

He kept his lips pursed into a thin line and stared at him straight to his eyes. Usually, kids his age will be in panic and can even broke into tears specially after being involve in a very serious crime. But he is different. Yang Jungwon, despite having the look of remorse and worries—makes him feel very wary. Its very unsettling.

He shuts his eyes for a while then sighs. “Okay, let’s say what you’re saying are true. But we still can’t let you go because you are our only lead to solve this crime.”

He doesn’t exactly know what he expects to happen next, but nothing prepares him for what’s about to unfold in front of him.

“So annoying.” the boy muttered lowly but enough for the officer to hear.

“Excuse me?” he asks just to make sure he heard him right.

From looking so uneasy and worried, Jungwon raises his head then leans his back comfortably over the chair. His forehead relaxed causing for the crease on it to disappear. He tilt his head while staring deadly straight to the police officer.

Shivers came rushing through the police officer’s whole body.

“I did it.” he said it so naturally. Like confessing from stealing a candy.

The corner of his lips lifts up a bit, “I killed him.” he confessed that made the officer sick in the stomach.

His heart felt like it stopped beating, cold sweats showers him and his hand froze at the sudden confession from the boy. He couldn’t properly express his own emotions because of the utter shock. He doesn’t know if it was from how the boy says those horrifying words so naturally or how he doesn’t look even bothered about it that made him like this.

It made the officer think if he’s aware of the crime he just committed. The lack of remorse and guilt are evident through his eyes. Its almost impossible to believe.

“You want to know how I did it?” he licked his lower lip and slightly straighten his back. “I grabbed a bottle and broke it. I used the sharp edges to stab him on his stomach, heart and neck.” he says and a sinister smile made it to his lips.

He leans closer, “And I repeat it again and again and again. Until he basically stopped breathing and died.” he even gave a shoulder shrug and rested his back again on the chair.

“W-Why...” the officer’s lips shakes as he stutter through his own words.

“I just want to.” Jungwon smiles as his eyes still looked dead.

Countless criminals with such horrible crimes had confessed inside this office. But this is the very first time that one actually scared and made Mr. Nam tremble in fear.

Despite all of these, he tried to gather his thoughts and composed himself. His hand slowly went down near his gun, preparing himself to anything that can happen.

“Do you know w-what consequences awaits for you because of what you did?”

Jungwon shrugs his shoulder off. “Yeah, I’m not stupid.”

The way he say every words confidently just makes the atmosphere even heavier. Normally they should be begging to take it easy on them or pleading not guilty for the crime they’re being accounted for.

But this kid...

“You can be jailed.”

“No, I won’t.”

“Yes you are a minor, but you can still serve juvenile for a few years before we can transfer you to an actual prison.” his jaw clenches together with his fist, trying to make himself look stronger. Well he has to. He’s way older than him, have more built and training. He’s also the adult inside the room so if anything, he should have the upper hand between them, right?

“Oh really?” his tone sounded so monotonous like as if it was the most boring thing he had ever heard that day.

Even before the officer can utter another word, the door to the interrogation room bursted open then revealed a man wearing a neatly ironed suit while carrying a suit case.

Officer Nam’s forehead furrowed hardly and he was about to tell them to go out as he's in the middle of a very confidential case only to be caught off guard.

He starts to wonder why this man is standing there and behind him is their Chief of Police following him like a loyal dog.

The boy didn’t even bothered looking at the newly arrived people. He rolled his eyes looking so bored and tired of this place.

“What do you think my father will feel when he knew I was here for two hours?” Jungwon asks the man that just arrived. His eyes looked dead and bored, tone serious and cold before he slowly stood up from his sit.

His aura was totally different. It was like Jungwon is a scared sheep a while ago that he used to look after, asking him what happened and so on so fort. Then suddenly that very same sheep tears off his sheep skin and revealed his true self. A fox. A predator.

Officer Nam snapped back to his senses and it took him time to realize what’s going on. His shoulder fell along with the hope to serve justice when he looked at one of the greatest lawyers in South Korea bowing at Yang Jungwon like he was so sorry for letting him stay in this interrogation room for too long.

Jungwon smirks looked so sly as he walks away from that room, the Chief even made way and apologizes for the hold. The young boy strides the police station’s hallway like a free man oozing with nothing but pride and power. Like as if he didn’t just do something horrible. As if he didn’t just killed somebody.

“Nam, we need to talk.” their Chief Officer says in a very strict tone while he closes the door behind his back.

Officer Nam kept his mouth shut and tries hard to keep his composure. His jaw clenches along with his fists under the table and his thoughts starts to wander mindlessly.

He doesn’t even need to hear what their Chief officer was about to discuss with him. He’s already aware of it. At this point, all there left is to surrender and just force himself to turn blind eye to this injustice.

After-all, he is nothing up against the Governor’s youngest son, Yang Jungwon.

They said that out of the hundred people you walk across the world, at least 1 of them are a psychopath. They can blend into the society naturally like they’re truly part of it. Like they’re totally normal and not thinking of unaliving someone in the worst way all the time.

Now, to identify that small percentage of the population started to become totally difficult. You can never know which one of the people you interact with are part of them. It can be your neighbor who greets you with big smiles every morning, it can be the traffic officer who helps you cross the street, the taxi driver, the guard by the gates of your school, your teacher or your classmates.

But never in a million chances that you will think that it can be Yang Jungwon. There is no way someone as sweet and perfect as Jungwon can be part of them. No, never. He’s undeniably handsome, from a good family, polite, responsible—president of the student council, top of your class, kind, athletic, talented, have dimples and always talks in the sweetes softest way. If one will have to point someone who is an epitome of an angel, he can be that.

So why are you inside this dark room, cuffed to a steel bar, face drenched with sweat and tears and totally scared for your life after being kidnapped by him? By Yang Jungwon.

You completely blanked out from the series of events that just occured hours ago. You remembered being with (name), arguing about how he’s so controlling and tiring for you. He was shouting at you and grabbing you over your wrist. You are expecting a slap or your hair being pulled by him, but the next thing you knew, he was down on the floor showering over his own blood. Yang Jungwon stands beside you, staring blankly at him while holding a broken bottle he just used to stab your boyfriend to death.

And the moment it finally dawned onto you, you tried to run away from him. It was too late. Jungwon manages to catch you and covered your mouth with this cloth that made you lose consciousness.

A faint creeking sound from the door made you snap back to reality. Your head perks up, eyes a little bit hopeful while heart still beats in an inconsistent pace.

“H-Help.” you tried to say, slightly choking your words because of the shock you’ve just been to.

Lights emits when it cracks open causing for you to squint your eyes slightly. The moment you saw who it was, you gulped and the corner of your eyes burns. Chest rises up and down, feeling suffocated out of fear.

Yang Jungwon stood proudly by the door. The light blue uniform coat was too familiar for you as it was what boys in your school wears almost everyday. He stares without saying anything before he slightly moves his shoulder to take off his blood stained coat.

The person beside him was quick to assist him.

“Did she eat already?” he asks casually, eyes still darted at your direction.

You trembles in fear and stares away from time to time, couldn’t really hold the eye contact longer than five seconds.

“No, young master.”

He rolls his eyes as he looked over the person beside him. Fear reflects his face as he bow his head nervously. Jungwon kept his eyes at him before he sighs and tilts his head to the side. You can almost hear that person’s sigh of relief when Jungwon started walking towards your way.

Fear flows through your system like a water as you try to push yourself near the wall, away from him. When he’s close enough, he crouches down and scanned you from head to toe.

Jungwon could not explain how excited he is as he stare at you. He couldn’t help but to let a small smile shed over his pretty lips, satisfied.

“Tell me this isn’t a dream.” he mumbles, only enough for you to hear. Tears pooled your eyes and they flow continuously to your pretty face.

Jungwon pursed his lips and stretches his hand closer to you. He gently cupped your face and using his thumb, he wiped off your tears. Despite the soft touches he gradually give you, it made you flinch but Jungwon tries to ignore it for the mean time. For now, he still couldn’t handle the thrill of having you here together with him.

“My pretty girl.” he whispers with so much adoration, eyes almost flashing heart shapes as he stares at you.

“Even if you’re crying, you are still gorgeous.” he added that made you feel sick in the stomach.

“D-Don’t touch me.” you finally manages to say as you move your face away from his touch. The smile on Jungwon’s lips fell and his eyes turned dark after what you did.

It quickly sent shivers through your spine, but you try your best not to let him see how terrified you are to him.

As he carefully scan you, he noticed how your body is shaking and his mood switches right away. Its quite fascinating even for you.

“You’re shaking, baby. Are you cold?” he asks sounding so gentle. It was almost like the same Jungwon you see around campus. It was unbelievable.

“Here,” he says after someone handed him a blanket.

He slowly helped you to wrap it over your shoulder. Suddenly, the hunger and the tiredness from resisting for hours kicked in. You have no remaining energy to even resist anymore or to even shove his hand away. Jungwon gets too excited when you let him take care of you. Its not like you have a choice.

“You’re a m-murderer.” it almost came out as a mumble, but when he stops from gently caressing your arm you knew he heard it. He looked at you and you didn’t saw any guilt. None.

“Do you hate me?” he raised his hand from holding your arm to touching your face, he cares it so gently again like you’re a very fragile thing for him.

You kept your mouth shut and just shoot him glares while tears stream down your eyes.

“He’s a terrible boyfriend anyway. He hurts you and he’s so lame.” his eyes follows a tear that escaped your eye and he went to wipe it again.

“Don’t waste your tears for him. I actually did you a favor.” and he brushes hairs stuck at your skin.

“B-By killing him?”

Jungwon pursed his lips and memory of your boyfriend screaming out of pain flashes through him for a while. He almost rolled his eyes at how pathetic he sounded a while ago, but he stopped himself.

“He doesn’t deserve you and so I thought you could use a new boyfriend.” he clenches his jaw and while holding an eye contact, he leans in and placed a soft kiss at your shoulderblades.

He almost lose his mind when he inhaled your familiar scent. The very same scent he grew addicted to. Now, he doesn’t have to settle on watching you from a far and trying to use every reasons he can use just to have a small talk with you. Now, you are here with him and you belong to him. He couldn’t be happier.

You shut your eyes and shake your head slowly, whimpering.

“P-Please just let me g-go.” your voice cracks from screaming and crying too much.

“Don’t worry, I will.” he smiled and you looked at him hopeful.

“R-Really?”

He nods his head, “Once I finally tamed and make you submit to me completely.”

Your stomach churns and hope starting to crumble down once again.

“You are a monster! Y-You will rot in hell.”

Jungwon stood up and stared down at you. His strict, cold eyes sent direct shivers down to your spine. He slides both of his hand inside his pockets while he continues looking at you.

“If that’s the price I have to pay to have you in this lifetime,” he stalls his words and smiles. “I will gladly accept my fate.”

main master-list

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[markantonys]

bridgerton s3 part 2 thoughts! full spoilers for the whole season, and i will also discuss some book spoilers relating to the future siblings - i haven't read the books and never will, but i know the main points of most of the siblings' stories due to Existing Online. haha i also briefly discuss some wheel of time book spoilers because i was reminded of a certain WOT couple at one point in these episodes!

first things first: I AM SO EXCITED THAT WE GOT NOT ONE BUT TWO (2)!!!!!!!!! CANONICALLY QUEER BRIDGERTON SIBLINGS!!!! AND MY TWO FAVORITES, AT THAT!!!! but i will save that for discussion at the end of the post because it is BY FAR my favorite aspect of these episodes.

but even with that aside, i definitely liked this half a lot more than part 1! screentime felt more balanced and it didn't feel like the sideplots were eating up as much time as it did in part 1.

penelope and colin storyline

they were Fine to me in part 1, but their story was more compelling in this half since we moved on from bland run-of-the-mill childhood-friends-to-lovers and into the meaty and much more unique emotional drama of how penelope being lady whistledown affects their relationship. just as i'd hoped for! and i thought the pacing of this was pretty good too because colin found out early enough that he had enough time left in the season to react properly and work through it, rather than it being some 11th-hour reveal that's hastily swept aside to make way for the HEA. it was juuuuust when i was starting to feel that the "colin makes a hater comment about LW in front of penelope, causing her to look ill with anxiety" shtick was getting old that he found out the truth, so, pretty good timing.

colin was more interesting in this half due to wrestling with the whole "penelope is LW" reveal, but overall, in the season as a whole, he was kinda giving us nothing. they really dropped the ball on him because he just never at any point felt like the co-lead character of the season. for daphne & simon and kate & anthony it felt like a pretty balanced exploration of both characters as individuals on top of the romance, but this season it was 100% the penelope show and colin felt basically like a prop. and penelope's a great character and had great stuff this season, so i enjoyed all the time spent on her, but we needed more for colin to go along with it. after 8 episodes, i still don't feel i know much about who he is as a person besides that he's nice and loyal. although on the flipside, i have no problem with male characters whose entire personality is loving their wives haha i love that shit! so a warm welcome for colin into the Wifeguy Club!

speaking of wifeguys, time for my WOT connection, which is that penelope and colin were SO gawene-coded in a couple scenes that it actually killed me! colin's lil arc of feeling kinda jealous of/intimidated by penelope's power as LW at first and most importantly his "what use can i ever be to her when she's so self-sufficient and doesn't need anything from me?" worries, culminating in him realizing "if the only thing i do in my life is love and support such an incredible woman, i'll be completely satisfied" (paraphrasing), i was like, that is soooo TOM gawyn with egwene being amyrlin!!! and when penelope had that line to him about like "i don't need you to take care of me, i never loved you because of what you can do for me, but because you're kind" (paraphrasing) i gasped and clapped my hand to my forehead because it was almost exactly what i had egwene saying to gawyn in my fic chapter that i posted mere days ago!!!!! literally shook to my core haha i was the leo dicaprio pointing at the TV meme x10 in that moment.

eloise and cressida storyline

wonderful to see eloise and penelope's friendship mended! i thought that whole arc was really well done this season, and especially in this half when eloise is dealing with her ex-bff being engaged to her brother who doesn't know she's LW but eloise knows and feels caught in the middle, just lots of messy, complicated emotions in that whole situation and they did a great job with all that.

i really enjoyed cressida in the first half of the season, but in this half it felt like she got a bit too much time. she also kinda reverted back to her mean girl ways (though out of desperation rather than malice), which was less interesting than the different, softer side we saw from her in the first half and made her time in this half feel like more of a drag. but overall, she's a very layered character and the actress did a fantastic job with her, and in this half of the season i always understood why she was doing what she was doing and sympathized with her. it can't be said that she didn't fuck around and find out, but i still felt bad for her in the end! i really liked the moment when colin with his rose-tinted glasses was like "but your family will forgive you and all will be well!" because that's what family has always been like to him, and cressida was like "ummm no, some of us have shitty families and you bridgertons are too naive to realize that", it was a very good moment.

(i will also say, i know this is a highly unpopular opinion for a queer bridgerton fan to have, but i was never on the eloise/cressida train haha i can 100% see the vibes that others picked up on, but they just never did anything for me for whatever reason! i know eloise was the "obvious" choice for a wlw bridgerton but i personally am so SO thrilled that they went for francesca instead, i guess just because i connect so deeply with her character in a way i never have with eloise. also, now that i'm thinking about it, i think eloise vibes the most like aroace to me, i struggle to picture her having a relationship with *anyone* of any gender.)

other storylines

i'm so happy for violet and marcus!! crossing my fingers that we'll see more of them in s4 since their romance is only just budding; it would be so interesting to see him interacting with her kids and getting integrated into the family dynamic (and for us to meet his kids too! though i acknowledge we don't need MORE side characters haha). and i loved the danbury siblings scenes and them getting to the root of their childhood issues and working them out. and of course, violet and lady danbury continue to be THE best duo of all time <33 i adore their friendship so so much, i can't even describe how much!

we got more time with kate and anthony in this half, and all of it was perfect. they're gonna be parents!!!! though alas, it seems like they've made their final exit from the show with them going off to live in india for a while. sad to see them go, but not surprised at all. i see lots of book fans whining about the prior leads leaving and how it's weird for daphne to not be at her own brother's wedding etc, and i do agree that the show/family is gonna start feeling kinda empty as the older siblings & spouses exit, but that's just a necessity of this medium. you can't have main cast be contracted for 6 more seasons just to show up for 2 lines of dialogue per season and hang out in the background of wedding scenes. you can do that in a book, but you can't do it in a tv show. just something we have to live with! and a lot of the complaints take such a "how DARE these actors want to move on with their lives and do other projects instead of dropping everything to prioritize having a minor role on bridgerton for the rest of this decade" tone, which stinks of Fan Entitlement.

i am curious about what might become of penelope, because it sounds like she's kinda continuing whistledown but just as herself and in a more responsible manner that won't hurt people (tho idk how a gossip column can possibly NOT hurt anyone haha the whole "penelope shouldn't give up LW because it's Feminist and Empowering and Gives A Voice To The Voiceless" narrative kinda had me going X Doubt). update: i just saw an interview with the showrunner where she confirmed that penelope will be in s4 and have a storyline. nice!

the featheringtons had much less in this half which i was glad about and they were taken more seriously and not just treated as comic relief, and portia had some really good scenes with penelope.

there was also much less of the mondriches, which i was fine with; i'm very fond of them and enjoyed their stuff this season, but it felt appropriate that they took more of a backseat in this half. i was sad will had to give up the club though! it felt like he had to fully capitulate to the ton and give up his own work that he's passionate about in order to win the esteem of snobby aristocrats, which was a bummer. the showrunner interview mentioned we'll be seeing them again in s4 and will be seeing some more of will's friendship with benedict, so i'm happy about that!

NOW ONTO THE GAYS!!!!

we've all been yearning for bi benedict ever since s1, and i can't BELIEVE it actually happened!!!! i'm over the moon!!!! and i'm so glad i watched the episodes straightaway without having seen any spoilers first so i got to experience the "holy shit, are they............are they going where i think they're going????" adrenaline rush completely pure and unknowing. it was the absolute most wonderful surprise!!! i'll give a lil summary here for those who are curious about how much queer content there actually is.

so, in episode 7 (or maybe it was the end of 6?) benedict gets invited to dinner with his female FWB and her male friend, who turns out to be her other FWB. AS SOON AS this invitation was extended i was like "oho, is benedict going to be needing 3 tickets to challengers?" so imagine my delight when it turned out that indeed, the 2 FWBs invited him in hopes of a threesome! benedict has a very brief moment of connection with/attraction to the man, and then he gets propositioned, but he's flustered and leaves. he returns to talk to his own FWB the next day and she explains to him about bisexuality and he's like icarly interesting.jpg and says that he's met men who like other men in the past but that he himself has never felt attracted to a man "before" (implying that last night, he did, for the first time). he does some soul-searching and then leaves his own brother's wedding reception to go have a threesome, which is extremely biconic of him. (at the wedding he also gives eloise a nice speech about how love is infinite, in the context of her worrying that colin and penelope marrying each other means they'll have less time for her, but it vibed to me like benedict is poly as well as bi, but who knows if that will go any further than this FWB threesome situation; i'd imagine his endgame will still be a monogamous relationship, but you never know!)

this storyline concludes with the female FWB admitting that she's caught feelings for benedict and wants to become serious (and monogamous) with him, but he politely turns her down because he feels "free" for the first time and wants to keep exploring life and isn't interested in a serious relationship right now, and might not ever be. my only gripe with the storyline is that i wish the male FWB had been introduced an episode or two earlier so we could watch benedict building a connection with him and feeling a budding attraction for an episode or two before the initial threesome proposition occurs to trigger him to actually acknowledge that attraction; as it is, it all happens kind of abruptly and our boy speedruns his entire bi awakening in the span of a single episode, bless him lmao but i'm assuming neither FWB will appear in s4 (they felt like one-season characters to me), so if so, it's fine to not spend too much time developing those specific relationships. the Point of the storyline was for benedict to realize he likes men too and likes non-conventional relationships, and that was accomplished with flying colors!

later on there's reference to "next year's masquerade ball" and i know a masquerade ball is where benedict first meets his endgame love interest in the books, so it seems just about guaranteed that s4 will be about benedict's book. i'm super curious about what direction it will go in! in the book, it sounds like their trope is Forbidden Romance, with the forbidden aspect being class difference (he's an aristocrat and she's a servant), so adding some kind of queer element as an additional reason for why it's Forbidden feels like a viable option, especially after s3 took pains to establish that benedict is interested in queer/non-traditional relationships.

but what form might that hypothetical queer element take? a monogamous m/m romance with genderbent sophie? or could we see trans or genderqueer sophie, in line with the cinderella metaphors about masquerade and disguise and identity and presenting differently in different environments? or might they go for some kind of poly or open relationship endgame for benedict? i don't know! there's so many options! it's also entirely possible that sophie will remain a cis woman and benedict will have a monogamous endgame with her, which i would also welcome because it is actually VERY rare to see rep of bi people ending up very happy in monogamous different-gender relationships, while still remaining firmly bi (most of the time bi characters end up in same-gender relationships, or end up in different-gender ones while dismissing their prior same-gender attractions as just a phase, or are chaotic sluts who cheat because they aren't content with only being with one person).

now on to francesca. we know for 100% fact that her love interest has been genderbent into a woman, because she was introduced at the end of the final episode! so francesca's endgame love story is guaranteed to be wlw, which is so exciting! (for context, her book endgame love interest is john's cousin michael stirling, and in the show she met john's cousin michaela stirling, so that's how we know with 100% certainty.)

taking it back a bit to the rest of her story this season, we see her and john courting, then getting engaged and married in a small wedding at bridgerton house with just the family, because they both hate being the center of attention. it was all incredibly wholesome introvert4introvert content and i adored it!!!! kept going "this is literally my ideal marriage" during so many of their scenes haha

but there is somewhat of a question of, is francesca actually attracted to john/men in general? throughout the season and even after the introduction of michaela stirling, i assumed yes; francesca clearly adores john and states that she loves him, and her body language around him seemed to me to show attraction. but after finishing the season and reading discussion online, i saw people saying that francesca seemed disappointed with kissing john at their wedding (which i'd interpreted as her just feeling shy about kissing him in front of people) and that it was a marked contrast to how flustered and interested she is when she meets michaela. so for me, the jury's out on whether she's more bi-leaning or lesbian-leaning; now that i know canon wlw francesca is a thing, i'd need to rewatch the season again to analyze her behavior with john more closely to decide what vibe i'm getting there! because on first watch it wasn't even on my radar to consider that maybe she's not actually attracted to men.

i will admit, i would be kinda disappointed if she *isn't* truly in love with john, just for the fact that i found it so delightful and refreshing to see a quiet romance that's so different from the loud melodramatic ones, as is discussed many many times during francesca's storyline this season. and i did notice that francesca tripping over her words upon meeting michaela is exactly what violet had said she did when she first met her late husband, and violet was bringing this up to say "but your way of loving john is different from that and that's valid". so i definitely CAN imagine that maybe they're making a deliberate point here that, actually, the reason why francesca's love for john looks so different from other characters' for their spouses is because she does NOT in fact have spousal love for him, but rather platonic love that she's misinterpreted as romantic. but i would just be mildly annoyed if The Point turned out to be "actually, violet is right and True Romantic Love must always be flustering and tongue-tying and dramatic" lmao but that's a personal gripe for me as a very quiet person who loved seeing the type of romantic relationship i would prefer depicted with francesca and john; i can also see the counterargument that a storyline of a repressed lesbian trying to untangle her actual feelings from comphet and societal expectations would be very powerful and important! and particularly interesting to explore in this regency context.

now on to some bigger book spoilers. so from what i understand, in the books, john dies, leaving francesca as a widow, and her love story with michael is about dealing with grief and learning to open herself up to love again after loss. i've seen the argument that francesca actually being a lesbian who wasn't genuinely in love with john would cheapen this storyline, and i can see that point for sure, but otoh it's abundantly clear that she does have a very deep care and love for him regardless of whether or not it's romantic/sexual, so i think no matter what, we will still see her being very affected and pained by his death and struggling with guilt about falling for someone else (his cousin! a woman!) etc.

what i'm most curious about here is the timing! there was some leak that michaela's actress is allegedly booked as a small part in s3 and a main role in s4. i'd been wondering if maybe they would start combining books, but in the interview i read, the showrunner confirmed that the plan is still to do only one book/sibling per season, so it seems that s4 will only be benedict's book. which makes sense, because i believe in the books francesca is married to john for 2 years before he dies and then it's another few years before she starts romancing michael, so i'd guess s4 will just see francesca develop a friendship with michaela and then maybe john dies towards the end of the season, then we do a timeskip between seasons and s5 is about francesca and michaela. but then there's still eloise to contend with, maybe she would be s5 and francesca not until 6.

i really really hope we'll get some francesca-benedict bonding next season (or s5/6 depending on the timing of francesca having her gay realization; it seems still subconscious for her as of now) since they are officially The Queer Siblings!!! i need to see them find this out about each other and talk about it together and be confidants for each other. it will also be so fascinating to see violet & the other siblings react to a queer bridgerton endgame romance. violet wants her kids to be happy, but she sometimes struggles with realizing that what happiness looks like to them may not align exactly with what happiness looks like to her, so i could definitely see her needing to take a moment to readjust her perspective and realize that francesca not being able to legally marry michaela in a public manner known to all of the ton and have biological kids with her doesn't mean they can't be just as happy as her straight kids and their partners. (on that note, i remember that in the past people have suggested francesca could be a great candidate for a wlw bridgerton because her status as a widow allows her a lot more societal freedom than a never-married woman, so i love that the show went with her! i can totally see her endgame being that of a respectable widow living peacefully in the countryside with her Dear Friend.)

i remember straightaway francesca set off my gaydar in 3x01 when she was reluctant about entering the marriage mart and dismissive at the idea of finding True Love and going ??? when people asked what qualities she wanted in a husband, and there was a scene of her talking with other debutante girls and i went "man i would love it if she got a girlfriend" but never in a million years did i actually think that was a real possibility! so i'm SO thrilled that they're going there, and like i mentioned before i quite like that they went with the polite introvert sister instead of the outspoken rebel sister to be the gay one because it just feels like a subversion of expectations and stereotypes for me, and because all season i'd been seeing so much of myself in francesca and then, finding out she's gay like me!!!! cherry on top!! and then for michaela, in the books i believe michael is yet another rake, which the show sets up for michaela too with her joking about being even more scandalous than john's stories might make her out to be - the rake is the backbone of the regency romance genre, so getting to see a wlw version of the trope with a female rake is going to be SO much fun!! esp with the setup that francesca is fairly society-conforming as of now; michaela broadening her horizons could be something interesting to explore.

wow this post got super long lmao i'm just so excited! canon queer bridgerton siblings singlehandedly turned this show from "i casually enjoy it as a few hours of fun which i forget about soon after it's over" to "i'm literally frothing at the mouth i need the next season NOW" and That is the power of representation, baby!

[remus-poopin]

What are your top HP fics based on writing? Like things that are just beautiful to read

Wow I think I’m answering this 3 months late sorry aghh. Again, I don’t read as many fics as I would like to, but I’ve been changing that recently and these are 4 that have really stood out to me in terms of writing!

Savour the Moment by - @evesaintyves

This fic made me both sad and hungry

This is a truly beautiful portrait of Molly and her relationship with Ginny. I really love how effortlessly this weaves in the food and cooking imagery with the emotions of the characters. The descriptions are so detailed and vivid that you can practically taste the cakes and pies off of the words alone.

Grief is hanging over this fic heavy, grief from Molly with her brothers and grief yet to come from Ginny. These two very different women, who also feel things very differently, have an extremely engaging back and forth of attempted connections. Both of them want it but aren’t able to easily get there with each other, and that struggle was very compelling to me.

Really such a great fic, I always find myself coming back to it

Favorite quotes:

“Molly has always tasted her memories. Perhaps that's why she's always been a bit thick round the middle: food relishes the good times, is the physical stuff of love. Ever since she was a little girl: plum pudding was Christmas and summers were cherry ice cream and chocolate flake. The time she broke her ankle jumping down from a tree, to this day, is the chalk flavor of Skele-Gro and a limp cucumber sandwich from the St Mungo's cafeteria. Her mother is sweet milky tea and her father is cottage pie with mushrooms, his favourite, flavoured with the smoke of his pipe in the air.”

“She learned to cook at her own mother's elbow and she is full of warm, creamy, ginger-flavoured memories of it. But Ginny's never liked being in the kitchen with her mum. She wants to be out with the boys, flying on broomsticks, getting jostled and scraped and braying coarse laughter through a mouthful of blood. That's why, when she thinks about Ginny, it's not the cream tea and swiss roll flavours she expected when she learned she was finally having a girl. It's rain-drenched popcorn at the Quidditch match and the salt of a kiss on Ginny's sweaty, gritty forehead.”

Sparkling Cyanide - @saintsenara

The house elf plot-line in the hp books leaves MUCH to be desired when it comes to fully and unequivocally condemning slavery. Due to this, you might find that me and my black ass are, shockingly, not its biggest fans.

However this fic is a brilliant look into elves’ oppression and enslavement AND their culture and agency.

This fic focuses on the death of Hepzibah Smith and the conditions surrounding and leading up to it. Specifically the subjugation of Elves and how that system encourages the idea of them as docile, unintelligent, and submissive (And how this perception can be wielded against the wizards that enslave them).

What I find so striking about this fic is how language is centered as a tool to illustrate the functions of colonial mindsets. I think this does a fantastic job at subverting the trope of “improper English = stupidity” that HP uses so frequently.

This was an extremely satisfying and moving read!

Favorite quotes:

“Come quickly and stop faffing,’ Mes Ebhsebbá says to Eokhí. She is clicking her fingers at Eokhí, like there is magic in her fingers. There is magic in Eokhí’s fingers. She is able to make the whole house fall to the ground if she is wanting to.”

“They is not knowing that we is knowing how to take the lives we is wanting from them. And that is why they is not thinking about how many weapons they is putting in kitchens.”

The Seven names of Mrs Zabini - @artemisia-black

And if I said that she did nothing wrong then what?

I’ve mentioned this fic several times before but I don’t think I’ll ever be over it. The way this is written is actually masterful; the attention to details, the poetic language, the characterization. I’m going to scream.

There is just something about this fic that entrances me. This is actually my favorite genre of story, the “good for her!” category, and whenever I read/watch these I go temporarily insane.

Because this is in first person we’re really getting into Mrs. Zabini’s mindset and the traumas that inform it, and this is extremely effective/convincing in making you stay on her side even while she is committing cold blooded murder.

Another thing I love about this is how the actual murders are so casually placed in the story, in comparison with how rich the rest of the imagery that Mrs. Zabini is describing. It’s almost like an afterthought. It makes her sound so much colder and more calculating than if there was a long depiction of each individual killing, so I thought that was a really brilliant writing choice.

If you love Gone Girl definitely give this a read!

Favorite quotes:

“There is a reason that Venus herself emerges from her half shell as a fully formed woman, blinking naively into existence. This is what men actually desire, a goddess who knows nothing of the world and so is more easily amused by the trinkets he throws at her. A divine being who is blissfully unaware of her own divinity. A being who had no thought but him and who cannot function outside of him.”

“I had gone to my wedding bed expecting a transformative experience where his penis would alchemise me from a girl into a woman. An expectation I had imbibed from a society that exalts the wonder of the male member. Instead, as I lay there shivering with his rotten seed running down my leg, I felt used and disgusted at the man I had been condemned to spend the rest of my life servicing”

“And as I rattled around our isolated country house, I believed him. Hiding myself from mirrors, starving my body in order to obtain the concave stomach and taut thighs that he so desired. But when I corrected one perceived flaw, he would find another. Peppering his insults with crumbs of tenderness that lured and trapped me in reality of his making.”

The Secret in the Heart of the Forest by @myrskytuuli

This one has it all: accidental cannibalism, ancient rituals, Snape sass, feral Lily, elf politics, generational trauma, fairy induced psychosis, and most importantly the Marauders + Sev and Lily + Regulus and Narcissa all teamed up. Oh yeah I’m eating this up

This one is longer than the others so I’m really going to try to make this as brief as I can but this fic is actually insane because it’s everything I’ve ever wanted in a hp fic and I think I could talk about it forever.

I was genuinely so giddy reading this. There were so many twists and turns and it remained gripping the whole time. This is a psychedelic fever dream, introspective character study, horror adventure and a beautiful tale of friendship all wrapped in one. I absolutely loved everyone’s characterization here, they’re all so beautifully flawed and you can really understand where they are coming from on a personal level but also on a sociological level, I think the author did a MASTERFUL job at this.

The worldbuilding is INSANELY good (the interlude chapters revolving around each of their mothers made me cry repeatedly. And Elieens chapter is just incredible, I have no words). And the pacing is just excellent, I never felt like any of the growth was forced or unearned.

This storytelling is also amazing, whenever there was a theme or reference brought up before in the story that got tied back in again, my mouth would physically drop because it was so seamless yet so meaningful and impactful.

(Sorry but I just need to talk about characterization for a brief minute because this has some of my favorite characterizations that I’ve ever read of some of these characters:

This is my absolute favorite Lily. Like ever. She feels so real here with her anger and flaws and quirks. She is neither villainized nor deified but a full fleshed out character. I just love her!

This is also my favorite James! James is usually a tough character for me to stay engaged with but this fic does an excellent job at balancing his strengths and flaws while keeping him compelling.

This Snape is PERFECT!!! I actually don’t think I can describe how much I love this depiction, all I can say is if you’re a Snape lover who enjoys him being a lil shit you should read this.

Also Peter is just incredible here, too often is he forgotten but this fic really does him justice.

Ok I’ll stop but just know that I could go on and on about all of these characters)

And seeing these characters who would normally hate each other come together to build meaningful bonds while they grow with their own issues is actually cathartic.

If you are a Marauder and Snape fan this is required reading, I really can’t recommend this enough!

Favorite quotes (there were way too many omg):

“Sirius had been angry for a long time now. Sometimes Sirius wondered if he had been born angry, if his first cry had never truly ended”

“Remus had said nothing after that. He was becoming a champion of saying nothing.”

“‘I’m sorry,’ he said.

‘I won’t forgive what you did to me.’ Severus said back with conviction.

‘Good.’ Sirius said with equal conviction.”

“At this point, Lily had arrived like the loyal shadow she tended to be around Snape, spitting out an angry ‘What the fuck?’”

“Sometimes he burned with the need to yank himself free of Lily and the blade of love hanging between them. To hurt her when she stepped over Severus' abused body like an avenging angel that looked down at him and made him look small, dirty, used and worthless. A worm crawling in the mud.”

Ok that’s all for now! I definitely think you should give all these a read!!

[suzy-queued]

DVD Commentary: Out of Nowhere

I got a request from @doshiart for behind-the-scenes commentary from Out of Nowhere. @shamelessdvdcommentary

Give us some stats - (when you wrote it, word count, how long it took to finish, is it a one-shot/multi-chapter, etc) 86,511 words, 15-chapters. I wrote it between November 2022 - January 2024.

What was the initial inspiration for your story? I love murder ballads. I love graphic novels. So when I saw the book In the Pines at my local library, I snatched it up. This book takes old murder ballads and turns them into short stories, told in graphic format. My favorite one was "Where the Wild Roses Grow," based on the Nick Cave song.

I took some very loose elements from this story: A secluded property, a guy escaping from prison, a person protecting their family's gold. The prisoner wooing the gold protector in order to get close enough to rob them. Doesn't that scream Gallavich?

In the murder ballad there's, well, murder. The prisoner dies by the end. Boy, was I tempted to do that in my story.

What was your favorite scene to write? In each story, there's a scene that pops in my head early on that I base the whole setup around. It's the one that I'm gleefully waiting to write. For this story, it was the "cleaning guns" scene in chapter 7, when the sexual tension is high and Ian tantalizes Mickey as he works.

How did you come up with the title? My favorite murder ballad of all time is "El Paso" by Marty Robbins. There's a line in that song, "From out of nowhere, Felina has found me."

The placeholder title was "Gallagher Gold."

Are there any little moments or references you hope readers will notice? I made this note early on: "Ian has a high PHYSICAL IQ. Mickey has a high VISUAL IQ." I used that to make character decisions throughout. Ian was good with his body and his posture. He was good at carrying things and balancing things, climbing and shooting. Mickey was obsessive about patterns and puzzles and solving challenges.

Was there anything you struggled to write? If so, how did you overcome this? Chapter 13, oh my god. That's the hardest thing I've ever written. I was dreading it for months. It's a tense culmination of everything the story has been building to: love, betrayal, physical and emotional pain. The land gets torn up, and so does their relationship. I overcame it by taking lots of deep breaths and writing small chunks every day. I made sure that every sentence was exactly what I wanted to convey, without letting the prose take its own (lazier) path.

Favorite line in the story? “I’m not a fucking Viper.”

Did the storyline change in any way as you wrote the story? When I started this story, I was sure that I didn't want to do another long multi-chap fic. I outlined it as a 5-chapter short, maybe 30,000 words. Then the "what if" whispers started happening, and it grew to a full 15-chapter outline. Most of the chapters had very short descriptions. One was just "fun and games on the land." One was just "This wasn’t supposed to happen, Gallagher."

Other possible settings included: an abandoned church with a small cemetery, and old hospital, a forgotten amusement park. I wrote "somewhere old-timey that would have land."

What are you most proud about in the story? (plot, characterization, dialogue, twist/cliffhanger, etc) The art! I had so much fun with it. I based the style off the old Penguin classics, like the Grapes of Wrath cover below. (Where they had the little penguin, I put the double-triangle Viper tattoo). I'm also showing my concept sketch for chapter 1 art.

Are there any ‘behind the scenes’ info you’d like to share? I hand-wrote the story first, and it filled two notebooks:

Here are some research shots on the land and the equipment:

I took this photo while I was working. Welcome to the inside of my brain:

Reading back the story now, is there anything you’d change or add? I was itching to dramatize more of Ian and Mickey's lives while they were apart. It would have been fun to have 5-6 chapters of them learning to be whole humans again. But ultimately, that wouldn't serve the story. I did a time jump instead.

Are there any ‘easter eggs’ in your story - e.g. references to other stories you’ve written, a trope you often use etc? The story is set in Fox River Grove. This entirely happened because @lalazeewrites introduced me to the town in their comments on Estate of Blood and Trust. So the events of EOBAT and OON are taking place in neighboring towns!

Did you have a beta or a friend who helped you as you wrote? @mzshko helped me figure out the best way to structure chapters 2 & 3. She was patient enough to read an alternate fully-written version of both chapters and tell me which option worked best.

Anything else you’d like the readers to know about the story? Three months into writing this story, I stopped and did a self-analysis because it wasn't igniting. I wrote, "Could it be that I haven't put enough of myself into it?" So I re-evaluated and dug deeper and made it as personal as I could.

I can't emphasize enough how interwoven details of my own life were in this story. I helped my dad install that big aluminum gate in the woods. I used 5-gallon jugs of water to brush my teeth and sponges to bathe. I washed clothes by hand and cooked on a propane stove. I hauled and stacked logs from fallen trees. I had a love/hate relationship with my family's land and ached to be back in civilization, like Ian. My dad used to tell me bedtime stories about escaped prisoners (Mickey?!) roaming the woods and killing small children.

This story is a love letter to my dad, who was dying the entire time I was writing. He passed away in May of 2024.

This is open to all writers! Pick your favorite story you’ve written or your most popular or the one you think deserves some more love! Or ask your followers to suggest their favorite fic of yours!

[swanhild]

WiP Snippet

Thank you @polutrope and @sallysavestheday for tagging me to share something I'm working on! So here's Maedhros and Fingon being overly competitive shit-talking their family dancing at their wedding in that post-canon fix-it fic that feels like it will never be finished (with bonus appearances by the parents and some siblings and other relatives):

While Turgon possessed many talents that he excelled in, dancing wasn't one his strong suits. It was a fact that Fingon sometimes couldn't resist teasing him about if an occasion presented itself, but right now he simply chuckled softly and said, "I can't decide who's more awkward- your brother or mine." Glancing away from Caranthir and following Fingon's line of sight, Maedhros, too, was amused by the somewhat stiff way Turgon led Elenwë around the dance floor. "Let's not be too harsh on them. They're trying their best," he nevertheless defended their younger siblings, smiling and feeling rather fond of every single member of their family who had come to celebrate with them today. Turgon noticed them watching and nodded at Maedhros and Fingon with an unnecessarily grave expression on his face as he and Elenwë twirled past them. Maedhros had to hide his face in Fingon’s hair so Turgon wouldn’t see him laugh, though Fingon had no such qualms. “I’m certainly grateful we have Turno and Moryo here now to make us look better. I was starting to think we'd be the worst dancers at our own wedding." “What? You’re a good dancer. And so am I,” Maedhros protested. “Yes, but we’re surrounded by show-offs. Just look at them!” Maedhros turned his head in the direction Fingon had indicated and took in the sight of Celegorm effortlessly lifting Aredhel into the air as he spun her around. For two people who spent significant amounts of time crawling through forests, covered in mud and blood, they did admittedly look stunningly elegant and in tune with each other tonight. Next to them, Elrond and Celebrían made an undeniably graceful picture as well, and so did Galadriel and Celeborn, though Maedhros was mostly struck by the unusually soft and adoring expression on Galadriel’s face as she stared into her husband’s eyes. He wasn’t sure he had ever seen his feisty little cousin look like that. “Not to mention uncle Arvo and aunt Eärwen over there! We just can’t compete with that!” Fingon continued, with feigned despair. Arafinwë and Eärwen practically floated around the dance floor, looking very much as if they had spent their whole lives doing nothing else. But then Maedhros’ attention was drawn to his other uncle and aunt — now officially his parents-in-law — and grinned. “I think we can compete with your parents at least. They're not as bad as our brothers, but they won't be winning any awards for their dancing either." “The only reason they're better is because they've been practicing for weeks. Ammë’s not very enthusiastic about dancing, but Atar secretly loves it, so he's been taking full advantage of the opportunity. They are rather unevenly matched in terms of skill and passion though,” Fingon said, before suddenly stopping. “Speaking of parents, Russo, look!” Whipping his head around, Maedhros followed Fingon’s gaze towards the edge of the dance floor where his own mother sat at one of the tables, looking strangely flustered and conflicted. His father was kneeling in front of her, extending his hand and asking her for a dance. With his breath caugth in this throat, Maedhros watched as his mother hesitated, a myriad of emotions flickering across her face in rapid succession. For a few tense moments, Maedhros was sure she would refuse. But then she rose from her chair in one fluid motion and accepted his father’s outstrechted hand. Together, they made their way towards the twirling and swaying crowd. Maedhros quickly buried his face in Fingon’s hair again, but this time it was to hide the tears that had suddenly sprung in his eyes.

(and yes, Fëanor and Nerdanel eventually get back together in this, because I want them to)

Zero pressure-tagging @queerofthedagger @melestasflight @gardensofthemoon @elevenelvenswords @chrissystriped @thecoolblackwaves and anyone else who sees this and would like to share something!

[miumura]

BITE ME — SUNGHOON ONESHOT TEASER.

SYNOPSIS : Throughout history, it has been a common practice for vampires to select unsuspecting individuals from the streets as a source of food, feasting not only on their blood but also on their fear. Sunghoon, accustomed to encountering terrified individuals, found it unusual to come across someone devoid of terror in their eyes—until he met you. Not being in the right state of mind, you had requested him to bite you instead. This unexpected request stirred a peculiar warmth in Sunghoon's pale cheeks, deviating from his usual routine of draining all of one's blood.

— when a supposed feast turns into an surprising attraction.

PAIRING : vampire!sunghoon x fem!reader

GENRE : fantasy, vampire au, strangers to lovers

WARNINGS : mentions of blood, biting, kidnapping, cursing, more to be added!

TEASER WORD COUNT — 460 words.

SOPH — hi guys im pretty excited for this fic 😊 idk how long this will be sooo !! the release date is still unknown but i love spoiling works so here u guys go 😘 just saying bite me caused this .

click here for the full fic !

“You know, I’m not very patient,” he hissed softly, displeased with the lingering quiet that filled his large room. “Don’t think you have any chance of making it out here alive. Just spit it out already.” Crossing his legs, he reached for the golden wine glass, tapping his sharp nails against the delicate surface, his gaze never leaving yours.

Caught off guard by the pressure, panic slipped past your lips, the words tumbling out before you could fully comprehend their weight. “Just….bite me.” The room fell into an eerie silence, granting you a moment to process what you had just said. Regret mingled as you realized the significance of what you had uttered.

“Well, that’s certainly unexpected,” Sunghoon responded, a mixture of bewilderment and intrigue flashing across his eyes. He sets the golden cup down, unable to form words himself. The request to be bitten, especially after learning his true nature as a vampire, was entirely new to him. It sparked a strange sensation within his being, a feeling he couldn’t quite decipher. Do humans also feel these kinds of emotions?

“You’re definitely a weird one,” Sunghoon remarked, still feeling flustered from your unconventional response.

“What do you mean?” you questioned, pretty oblivious to the whole situation.

“Most people wouldn’t dare to ask a vampire to bite them, especially after their life is on the line. It takes away the thrill of the feast,” he explained, a faint smile playing on his lips.

“Wait, so you vampires feed off fear too?” you inquired, attempting to make sense of the earlier statement.

“That’s a bit rude for you to address us that way,” a small frown forms onto his face. “But, Of course,” he replied, amusement evident in his tone, “That’s why I told you to calm your racing heart. Fear tends to make it beat even faster.”

“Well, guess what? I am scared right now,” you retorted, defiance lacing your words. “But you can just take a small amount of blood–definitely not all of it, I swear. And don’t forget, I’ll fight back if you push too far.”

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, his amusement turning into a more serious demeanor. “Bold words from a mere weakling. Don’t forget who holds the power of a vampire here.”

“Don’t forget you’re basically glued to that seat.” He taps onto the arm rests of his chair, signaling the leather straps that restrained your hands from moving anywhere.

“Whatever,” you dismissed, frustration tainting your voice. “Are you going to bite me or not? I just want to get out of here, even though I have nowhere to go.”

A flicker of warning passed through Sunghoon's eyes as he leaned in closer. "Don't test my patience. You have no idea what I'm capable of."

ENHA PERM TAGLIST — @flwoie @ixomiyu @yenavrse @shinsou-rii @luveuly @ilovewonyo @yenqa @dimplewonie @bubblytaetae @wtfhyuck @ineedaherosavemeenow @starcubes @starikizs @wonioml @chirokookie @xiaoderrrr @neozon3nha @en-chantedtomeetyou @millksea @enhaz1 @eundiarys @zuyairus @ja4hyvn @judeduartewannabe @j-wyoung @thia-aep @vampcharxter @softpia @officiallyjaehyuns @itsactuallylina @hsheart @sweetjaemss @ahnneyong @hanienie

ASK, COMMENT, OR DM TO BE TAGGED FOR BITE ME .

TAGLIST FOR BITE ME — @soov @lunacrtk @differentchildwombat @amortenha @kyungssem @skinnyzlegendz

[fuckyeahgoodomensfanfic]

Good Omens Fic Rec: Pray For Us, Icarus (series)

For three centuries, Crowley has been reincarnated over and over as a human with no memory of his past. Aziraphale has tried to find a way to restore him to his true self, but all he seems to do is hurt them both. This time, he only means to steal a brief moment when he walks into Crowley's flower shop. But Crowley can't let it go...

Length: 65,836 words

AO3 Rating: Teen and Up

Best for: Safe in Public, At Home, Human AU, Canon AU, Angst, Romance, One Sitting

Triggers: Temporary Character Death

Read it here, fic by Atalan

*Minor Spoilers* There's nothing I can say about this story that probably hasn't already been said. It is one of the most popular and well-known Good Omens fanfics, and for excellent reason. I know for certain that I'm not the only one who has wept while reading it. Today was my third time with this story, and, whoops, I cried again.

I've tried to express my thoughts in this post in a few different ways. I can't wax poetic about how much I love this story—my writing skills just aren't there. And much of what I've tried to say feels redundant. I even had a whole paragraph comparing it to the themes in this art by chernozemm which is how this story feels to me.

What I've settled on is that you should read this story because it is intrinsically Good Omens Fanfiction. This series only works as Aziraphale and Crowley, and you could not repackage or retell this story for any other fandom, or, God forbid, traditional fiction. All the emotions we feel reading this come from the intimacy we already have with this world and these characters. The story, and the author, know we can read between the lines. Thus, it can drop a simple line and have us crumple because we already know the subtext behind it. That's why I am so addicted to fanfiction! I'm not saying this is the only story that has accomplished this. But I do think it's one of the most successful.

This series, in my opinion, must be read all the way through. In my eyes, this is a singular work and no one should be skipping any part of this saga. It bothers me that the hit counts between the parts is not equal. The first part has 99k hits and the final 47k. The drop off is criminal! Every section of this story is important and critical to the full picture. So if you read the first part, Flowers for Anthony, and did not proceed to the rest of the story, please get on this!

Completely safe in public, but if you can, I really suggest you read this one at home in one sitting. You'll want to devote all your attention to this story. If, for some reason, you haven't read this one yet, please make it a priority! This is one of the most heart-wrenching and romantic stories I've ever read, and it deserves its spot as a fandom classic.

Read it here, fic by Atalan

[camilaxmartin]

you’re enough

i just needed to get it off my chest to be honest

navigation // request // masterlist

summary: lesso reassures you after you got a bad grade

warnings: none; (not proof read)

notes: that’s my first fic (on here) written from the first person’s view phew~ it’s fluff but the start can count as a little bit of angst i guess??

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>•<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

i pushed the door to lesso’s office and came in not even waiting for her agreement. she was working behind her desk, probably grading some tests. her eyes immediately flowed to me at the moment i crossed the line of the room. my face was saying it all. i was frustrated and mad. horribly mad. i shot the door behind me earning a loud noise from them which made me even more nervous. i threw away the books i have been carrying with myself, them landing somewhere on the floor. i couldn’t care less about it now. her eyes were glued to me even though she was still grading the papers who were starting to form a high pile on her desk. i walk up to the two furnitures situated right before her desk. with a loud thud i threw myself at one of them. my hands immediately started caressing my face trying to calm me down a bit. her eyes were now back at the test she was continuously grading. after a while of rubbing my eyes and totally smuggling my make up i finally seated my hands on the armrests. lesso’s eyes suddenly flew right up catching mine in no time. i was feeling so ashamed and i’m sure she could sense it. her look filled with no emotions at all was just adding perfect atmosphere to this whole situation. i bit my down lip looking away from her. tears uncontrollably forming in my eyes. when i looked at her again her look was more soft. still emotionless but softer. almost like she’d be worried.

“can i finally ask what’s this all about?” she asked looking at her paper once again, fully breaking the eye contact.

i let out a long and loud breath. taking in another one, deeper one.

“i got a bad grade.” i whispered. “a really bad one.” i added so quietly she probably wasn’t able to catch it. probably.

“so you should’ve studied harder.” she explained not even bothering to look up at me. tears in my eyes started to form once again.

“i did. i really did.” i responded looking at the cabinets behind her, like i was seeing them for the very first time.

“clearly it wasn’t enough.” she said and i just suddenly lost it.

suddenly the tears forming in my eyes were now flowing down my face like huge drops of rain. the rest of my smudged makeup coming off along with them. i felt a single drop land on my left thigh sinking into the material of my tights right away. i didn’t even bother to wipe my face when i felt another wave of tears coming out of my eyes. the whimper i let out next was the thing that caught the full attention of the dean of evil. maybe i was often crying with her but it was rare for it to get that bad. in no second her eyes were at my face and the pen she was using to grade the papers was laying alone at the hard surface of her desk. she then pushed herself away a bit making room between herself and the desk, making it for me, without using words to state that. i clearly wasn’t thinking in that moment so i suppose it was just the memory of my muscles. i got up and came to her in no time. then she opened her arms for me to literally hide in them. no needing more in such a moment i just sat on her lap and immediately hugged into her, wrapping my hands around her neck, while hers gently wrapped around my back and her fingers started stroking it delicately. i felt another wave of water coming straight out of my eyes. having the wet path already on my cheeks the next drops had easier way to slip out of my face and wet the material of lesso’s suit. but she seemed like she didn’t care. maybe it really wasn’t bothering her. another sob came out of my mouth and the grip on my back tightened, bringing me closer to her body than i already was. it made me feel calmer. she then grabbed me even tighter and moved me even closer to her that i was almost sitting on her hips. one of her hands left my back and immediately went up to grab my cheek and gently stroke it, meaning that she wanted my attention. unsurely i pulled my head away from her and then my eyes again met hers. her look was soft now and overflowing with worry. when you want to know how lesso actually feels and what she really means, you need to pay attention to her eyes. they will tell you everything. i knew she wanted me to just explain what happened but right now i needed the most of reassurance. she still rubbed my cheek with one of her fingers making sure i knew she actually cared so much.

“tell me darling, what’s actually wrong?” she asked after a moment of silnce. i took another deep and unsteady breath.

“i studied for it. i literally spend a lot of my time studying. and you know how hardly it comes for me. how easily i loose focus or motivation. how much strength i need to just sit down and learn something. even something i actually enjoy. what a struggle that is for me. how hard it is for me to learn something that just doesn’t want to get into my head no matter how long and how hard i try to make it work. how demotivating it is to do your best and still not be enough. and be judged. by others and mostly by yourself. how incredibly unfair it is for me to get a bad grade when my friends who did nothing to learn and didn’t even try to learn got such a good grade for cheating and even not trying, not talking here about trying their bests. and how unfair of her it is to give us such hard exercises when she knows most of the class doesn’t even have a clue what’s happening and they just copy and paste from each other when we’re doing something on lesson.” i said and the tears weren’t stopping. “and how hard it is for me to see that grade knowing damn well i did everything, i did my best, i tried and tried and it still isn’t good enough, or not even good, just enough.” i wanted to continue my monologue but another whimper interrupted me. lesso immediately pulled me to herself clearly not wanting to listen to the signs of how bad i was feeling.

“oh darling.” she said, stroking my back again. “sometimes we just need to accept it. even if it’s unfair or not how we would want it to be” she was about to continue but i interrupted her.

“but it wasn’t enough!” another sob came out of my mouth along with those words.

“did you do your best?” she asked, grabbing my face and pulling me away from her a bit, also making me look into her eyes “did you really try?”

“i did.” i responded tears finally starting to slow down.

“then it was enough.” she stated harshly, desperately trying to make a point.

“but even you said otherwise!” i said louder than i wanted to.

“i know.” she said licking her lips. “but i haven’t seen the whole situation then and just assumed that it was something less important to you.” she explained her point of view while also swallowing hardly at the end. “you know i would never say something with intention to hurt you.” she added even thought in the past she hurt me with her words more than once. but she was learning, and that was the most important.

“will i ever be enough?” i asked looking straight into her eyes in which i could see only worry and love now.

“you are enough.” she said rubbing my cheek a bit harder. “no matter the grades you get; no matter what anyone says; you. are. enough.” she said and brought her other hand to capture my other cheek.

needing to finally let go i automatically came closer to her and she did the same. the tips of our noses were touching right now. she still looked very worried and clearly wanted to help even more but she just didn’t know how to. at least how to do it and also not loose the job for murdering someone. sensing that i unconsciously smiled to her. it wasn’t this big, bright smile i’m used to wearing everyday but it was a smile. a small one, but truthful. when lesso noticed it she automatically smiled herself. the most beautiful sight i could ever ask for. her smile also wasn’t the one she used when she was teasing me or when i did something that made her pretty satisfied with herself, no. it was the one, the proud one. the proud of me one.

couldn’t wait more i slightly moved my head so now our lips were touching each other. we still weren’t kissing, our lips were just next to themselves. lesso decided it was enough for her too. with one gentle move she started kissing me. the kiss wasn’t as rough as she would normally kiss me. it was more soft and more meaningful i think. her delicate lips slowly worked with mine making me feel butterflies in my stomach in actually no time. my hands situated on her neck slowly found their way to her red hair almost immediately wrapping themselves in it. lesso smiled to our kiss feeling my fingers. her arms came back to my back and didn’t move from there. not an inch up or down. something unlikely for lesso, but in that very moment it gave me another wave of care from her, knowing she was actually trying to show me how much she cared about me and not only wanted to turn it into something spicier.

i didn’t want to stop kissing her but my lungs, same as hers, were burning for some oxygen. i gently pulled away from her lips linking our noses once again. lesso opened her eyes slowly, breathing a bit heavier than before. my own breath was faster and definitely shorter.

“no matter what,” she started to whisper and it immediately got my attention “you are always going to be the most valuable thing in my life.” she said it so casually i didn’t know how to respond. instead i just kissed her, again.

lesso was quick to kiss back. her hands gripped my back slightly harder again, brining me closer to her, craving to feel me closer. i felt her lips leaving mine and i wanted to protest but stopped myself. then her lips moved from mine, to leave a path of many wet kisses almost all around my face. first, she kissed my cheek as many times as she could and then started to go up. she left one of them at the middle of my forehead. to be honest i think that kiss was the most affectionate one of them all. then, she came back down to my cheek, but the other one. again, she left there so many kisses and next she moved lower. i felt her soft lips gently touch my jawline leaving another wet spot there. lesso moved even lower going to my neck. her mouth left another thousand of kisses there making a darker spot from time to time. she then came back up, kissing all of my face again but skipping my lips. she pulled away slightly waiting for me to open my eyes and direct my attention to her.

“my precious thing.” she whispered staring at me with pure adoration in her eyes. a quite unique sight.

“all yours.” i responded and she smiled at my words. she moved her head up slightly and kissed my forehead once again. definitely showing me the affection she was giving.

and then she finally came back to my mouth, kissing me again. i kissed her back almost immediately with more intention into it.

lady lesso was quick to catch up with me mostly when she felt the back and forth movement of my hips. she then quickly put her hands on the both sides of them situating them in place and not letting me move them.

“i see what you’re doing love.” she laughed almost breathlessly. “but i don’t think it’s the best activity for now.” she said with a very serious tone but her smile was still present. “i just want to cover you up with kisses right now and maybe, we can think about something else later.” she added with her normal smirk crawling to her face. how could i say no to something like this?

she kissed me immediately not giving me time to answer such an obvious question. her hands came back to their previous place and mine pulled her hair even more earning another wicked grin from the dean. even while smirking and smiling lesso didn’t stop the kiss, not wanting anything to interrupt her while she was doing the best she could in showing me that she cares and doing my best is always enough.

[castlebyersafterdark]

I've been wanting to make my own list of fic recs for this side of the fandom. this is just a short little quick recollection. i love so many fics and writers - this micro-fandom is really talented. but these are my personal favorites:

i've never done this before, can you help me out? - I actually almost find it difficult to talk about this one? It's just so good. THE (infamous?) orgy fic, first off. And it's one of the sweetest, most romantic fics ever? So engaging. The characterizations, the sex scenes, the emotions, the depiction of that culture. Really good. But, there were some parts about Will's character that just, in admission of full vulnerability, really sat with me and felt familiar and it was almost too much! Even if my life is nothing like the lifestyle depicted here hahaha. Like. I got it. I understood him, in some ways. I only read this one sporadically as it updated, looking forward to sometime in the future sitting down to re-read it from beginning to end. This fic was also the push that made me decide to switch over to this side of the fandom and make a real account. Made me want to try writing again after half-assing it and neglecting my interest in fic writing❤️

time is a perception, love will cure depression - This one is actually Steve/Will and honestly - here for it. So hot. Will is VERY relatable here. It just feels authentic for a kid like Will coming into his own, understanding and acknowledging his desires. And the way Steve treats him with such care??? Oh, this fic is honestly everything to me. And it really captures the formative experience of lusting after some older guy in hot swimwear which is so niche to me but damn, this is it. I was so excited to find this little gem.

in the midnight hour - I have re-read this one about half a dozen times and honestly, I'll admit this specific fic inspired so much of how I tend to characterize Will and Mike just because they are PERFECT as to how I also view them. So many little moments just blew my mind. I have such a thing for trusting, loving, and intoxicated sex scenes in fiction and irl and this one is perfect perfect prefect for that kind of specific trope? It can be so caring and hot in the right context and this was just so good. Please read it for the first time or read it again! This was the other fic that made me want to try writing seriously again. Not only was it a really sexy story - it's just a lot of fun. Love that.

no lifeguard on duty - Cannot wait for this one to continue/finish but it's so good so far. I like the hyper-realism, the summer vibes. The whole scene with the bathing suit was soooooo interesting, I was reeling, I'm here for it. Anything that explores experimentation between these two pre-relationship is great, one of my favorite Byler tropes.

any semblance of touch - I'm weak for a good 'Mike and Will get high and it leads to them shotgunning and making out and grinding together' fic and I feel like I've read a few like this, but this one is A++ and sticks in my brain.

asking too much - I was hooked from the line "Not to be too graphic, but all I want is a nice, good-looking man who can fuck me hard" and I was obsessed the entire read. WILL you are so valid, babydoll. Love this fic a lot.

privacy - Another really interesting fic focusing on experimentation and all that lovely stuff. Mike is ridiculous in this and I'm obsessed with him and his gay little journey here as Will just absolutely loses his mind.

sexual healing - What can I say, always love a really well done 'classic porn set-up' fic, let's be honest hahaha. Masseuse/client??? All you needed to say. Fantastic.

my baby lives in shades of blue - Anything that depicts Mike and Will as super codependent and obsessed with each other is gold in my eyes. This one delivers. All the best things here. Slutty halloween costumes? Byler getting supremely handsy with each other? Clingy boyfriends? Accidental admission of kinks through dirty talk mid-fuck? Love it all.

There's a lot of other really good ones as well! These just stick in my mind. Love this fandom, everyone is so talented ❤️❤️❤️

[littlemisspascal]

Bitter Ends Turn Sweet in Time

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Female Reader

Word Count: 7k+

Summary: There’s not a single day in a whole year that isn’t bookmarked by a memory of him. And you, you remember all of them.

Rating: T

Warnings: Pokémon au (but not 100% true to canon, just elements + some characters), time skips in non-linear manner, fluff, angst, bittersweet ending, storms, language, Reader and Frankie are same age + grow up together, high school au ish(?), inspired by 500 Days of Summer + Song of Achilles' 'name one hero who was happy' scene + this quote by photographer David Alan Harvey:

"Don't shoot what it looks like. Shoot what it feels like."

- Reader has no official name and no physical traits described in detail. However, she is mentioned to have hair, a career, wear a dress (no description), and eat sandwiches

Author Note: I've been wanting to write a Pokémon au for a long, long, long time and I've also been wanting to write a non-linear fic for a long, long, long time as well so this is the result of both those wants combining forces *awkwardly throws it into the universe* It is what it is.

-- all moodboard photos found on pinterest

-- shinx, luxio, luxray // pikachu photo references

Special thanks to @beecastle for beta reading and encouraging me through my breakdowns 💜

Day 1,695

Luxray’s a silent wall of black and blue fur for your body to brace against as the sky bleeds a deep shade of orange, and you know he knows. Doesn’t even have to use his x-ray vision to confirm what’s etched into every line of your expression. Anguish—when it’s real and unbearable and deeply-rooted—is impossible to hide. Everyone who looks at you will know. 

Everyone except the one pair of brown eyes that’ll never look your way again.

“I’m such an idiot,” you say quietly, and it’s embarrassing how thick the lump of emotion is lodged in your throat. You wipe at your nose with your sleeve. “So damn stupid.”

Luxray lets out a low growl, chiding in nature, as if to say don’t talk shit about yourself. 

“He was never going to stay,” you continue, ignoring the vibration rattling your bones. “But I got my hopes up anyways. What we’ve accomplished these last few weeks together, I thought there was a chance…a slim one, you know? That maybe–maybe we could actually stick together this time.”

And you don’t realize you’re crying until Luxray’s twisting his head to nuzzle against your temple, encouraging you to bury your face into the thick fur along his chest and shoulders. With your eyes squeezed shut, you can almost block out the all-encompassing numbness emanating from the cavity your heart used to reside in.

“He’s gone…” you choke out through sobs, grabbing fistfuls of Luxray’s inky black mane. “And I think it’s permanent this time.”

Day 1

The first day of classes at Uva Academy is a whirlwind of meeting teachers, racing from one floor to the next against the clock, and making sure you never lose track of Shinx in the chaos of it all, but when the last bell finally rings, you feel no sting of regret about coming here. 

You split a sandwich with Shinx underneath a tree in the school courtyard, brain buzzing with the overload of information absorbed throughout the day. Maybe signing up for a full schedule of classes was a bit excessive, but unlike most of your fellow students who have some semblance of a plan for their futures your next steps are plagued with uncertainty. There are so many paths one can take with their Pokémon—the course of a Trainer, a Coordinator, a Professor, a Ranger, the list goes on and on—you don’t know which direction to take.

When you lock eyes with a boy with brown eyes across the yard, there’s nothing special about the moment. No sparks, no forgetting how to breathe. He’s just a boy with a Pikachu on his shoulder and a dimpled grin on his face.

“I saw you in Mr. Jacq’s class,” he says in lieu of a greeting when he draws closer, purple Academy tie loose and crooked around his neck. Recognition stirs in the back of your mind, a flash of dark brown curls towards the back of the room spotted before taking your seat at the front. 

Actually, now that you think about it…

“Weren’t you in Ms. Dendra’s class too?” you wonder, passing the last bite of sandwich to Shinx, his little body wiggling eagerly. “And Ms. Raifort’s…?”

“Yeah, I, uh, I don’t really know what I want to do yet.” He scuffs at the ground with his shoe, grin turning a bit crooked at the corner, strangely endearing in its awkwardness. “I figure life’s short, you know? Why not try as many things as you can when you have the chance?”

“Right,” you agree, finding yourself smiling back. “Nothing wrong with making memories.”

"I'm Frankie, by the way."

“Nice to meet you Frankie,” you say, shaking his hand. It’s warm in your grip, firm and secure, thumb grazing over your knuckles. “Looks like we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.”

And so it starts after that—the counting of days. Days when you see him in class, when he smiles at you, when he does homework with you in the library, when he and Pikachu have a battle against you and Shinx–winner buys lunch. It’s a subconscious quirk you keep to yourself. Even after he’s gone, chasing after legends to the far corners of the earth, you still continue counting days.

Days when he crosses your mind. Days when you leave the door unlocked in case he stops by. Days when you swear you catch a whiff of his citrus shampoo on the pillowcase despite the impossibility of it.

There’s not a single day in a whole year that isn’t bookmarked by a memory of him. And you, you remember all of them.

Day 183

“I want my name in one of these books,” he tells you, Ms. Raifort’s assigned reading on the lost explorers of Area Zero spread out in front of him.

You look up from the text, fatalities and disaster and other sharp words with teeth still swimming in your head. “It won’t be easy.”

You’ve only known him six months—long enough to be certain you’ll never meet anyone else like him, but too short to realize the hidden depths of his stubborn ambition.

“No,” he agrees, mouth curling up at the corner, “but it’ll be one hell of a story.”

Day 8

The air is heavy with the sharp, pungent scent of ozone as thunder rumbles overhead. You take in the ominous black clouds, adjusting the hood of your yellow coat to better defend your hair against the pattering raindrops. Doesn’t do much to ward off the chill of the wind though.

Shinx is darting about the meadow in zigzagging lines, wet to the bone and having a blast. Pikachu follows at his heels, electricity sparking from the red circles of her cheeks before fizzling out harmlessly. If there’s any rules to this game they’re playing, you haven’t a clue. Still, their obvious excitement over the weather has you smiling despite the numbness of your toes in soggy shoes.

To your left, Frankie watches the pair of Pokémon nimbly leap over a puddle, studying their graceful movements. His dark hair is flattened against his head, curls beaten into submission, but there’s something in his eyes, a sort of wistfulness that snags your attention like a moth to a flame. 

A bolt of lightning burns a gleaming white strip across the gloomy sky, halting Shinx and Pikachu’s play as they elicit squeaks of awe, but you can’t stop looking at Frankie. He’s grinning now, a wide and ecstatic thing with his head tipped back, rain streaming down his face.

“Amazing, isn’t it? Seeing one of nature’s tantrums,” he says, voice low and wonderstruck. “My mother always said it takes someone extra special to train those who can summon such raw, uncontrollable power on cue.”

You’ve never thought of yourself as someone unusual or remarkable. Looking at him though, soaked and shivering and absolutely beaming, you think if anyone’s extra special in this world it’s him.

Day 1,987

It’s a long time before you can look through photos of him without a wound violently tearing open in your chest. Longer still before you can hear his voice on the phone. He calls more often these days, mostly because you’re knee-deep in another mystery and only a little because he misses you, and that’s okay. You can smile at his jokes and it feels real. You can love him and know better than to be in love with him.

You stay busy. You photograph every inch of the nature park on Florio, even convince Professor Mirror to let you take the NEO-ONE to some of Lental’s other islands for further research. You spend hours clicking through photos on your computer, frowning at blurry ones, printing some out for the Professor to take a closer look at as well as a few for your own personal collection of albums. 

Your coworker isn’t an intimidating figure by any means, but something about watching him study and scrutinize your pictures never fails to make your hands shake and feet shuffle. Even after all these months, practically living inside each other’s pockets at the Laboratory of Ecology and Natural Sciences (or L.E.N.S. as the Professor affectionately calls it), studying the Illumina phenomenon and all its effects, there’s a part of you still terrified it could all come crashing down.

“You’re too hard on yourself,” Professor Mirror tells you, glaring disapprovingly over the frames of his glasses. It’s not the first time you’ve heard that remark and it won’t be the last either. 

“More analyzing the photos and less analyzing me please,” you reply, nodding your head at the small stack in his hands.

He grumbles under his breath, but resumes evaluating the latest shots of your walk along Blushing Beach. There are Wingulls performing loops in the air, an Exeggutor snoozing beneath a palm tree, the splashings of a pair of Corsola playing in the waves. Luxray looking at the contents of a tide pool. A Pikachu eating a fluffruit after you’d scared her by your loud gasp, mistaking her for another of her kind. You don’t mention that tidbit to your coworker though.

That should be the last one, except then Professor Mirror’s letting out a surprised little hum, holding up a photo you never intended anyone else to ever see. Not even the subject. Especially not the subject.

It’s from your sophomore year at Uva Academy. You would call the picture ugly, edges a bit hazy due to your unsteady hands, still learning the tips and tricks of photography, except it’s Frankie. And he’s looking at you behind the lens with a fondness so sweet it makes your teeth hurt, holding a newly evolved Luxio to his chest, with windswept curls your fingers will always long to tame. 

You should’ve thrown it out a long time ago. The man in the photo isn’t the same man who will call you later tonight from half a world away just to ask how your day went and if you’re willing to admit you need his help with the Illumina project. But you’ve always been too sentimental for your own good, holding onto things until there are only scraps left, slipping through the gaps of your fingers. 

At the very least, you shouldn’t have reorganized your albums so close to your work station.

After what feels like the longest stretch of silence of your life, Professor Mirror finally says, carefully neutral as if wary of provoking a negative reaction, “Someone special, I presume?”

“It’s complicated,” is all you offer in response, snatching the picture back and telling yourself the ache behind your ribcage is a side effect of a papercut.

Day 389

Uva Academy teaches you battle strategies, the effects of Berries and how to better understand your Pokémon amongst other vital lessons to prepare students for a career outside the ancient brick walls and dorm rooms. 

It’s Frankie who teaches you how to find beauty in thunderstorms, how to enjoy each day like it’s your last, how to dream a little bit bigger, a little bit bolder—or maybe that’s something you teach each other. 

On the weekends you head into the city center together, trying different eateries and watching fellow students challenge each other on the plaza battle court. Afterwards you’ll walk along the cobblestone streets side by side, sometimes discussing classwork or pointing out items in shop windows, but usually the time is spent in companionable silence. Just sharing the same space.

You buy your first camera acting on pure impulse, drawn to it inexplicably and handing over money to the salesman in a matter of minutes. It fits in the palm of your hand, heavy and solid, buttons and knobs staring back at you, waiting to be pressed and manipulated. For the first ten or so minutes of ownership, you simply hold onto the device, studying its shape, its lens, fingertips running over the bumps and grooves.

“Well?” Frankie prompts, gentle voice breaking the silence, brown eyes flicking between your face and the camera. Pikachu echoes the question with a tiny pika?, sensing the fragility of the moment. 

“I don’t know what to do,” you answer, shoulders curling with self-consciousness. At your feet, Shinx sits on your shoe and rubs his cheek against your leg comfortingly.

“Well,” he hums, a teasing smile growing on his lips as he presses a button. “Maybe start with turning it on first.”

“Shut up.” You swat at him, but there’s no real heat. “I meant, I don’t know what to take a photo of.”

“It doesn’t matter what the sight is,” Frankie tells you, grabbing hold of your hands and raising them up until the camera’s in front of your face. He steps back and you peek at him through the viewfinder, watching as he spreads his arms out wide with Pikachu still happily perched on his shoulder. “What’s important is how it makes you feel.”

You take a breath, taking a moment to hold the shutter button until it focuses, and then take the photo. No count down, no say cheese!—you simply heed his advice, focusing on how it makes you feel.

The preview screen asks if you’d like to keep the picture or delete it. Your thumb hovers over the buttons.

Focused on the way Frankie’s hair has a golden aura in the light, how Pikachu’s nose scrunches when she’s grinning, you nearly jump out of your skin when he’s suddenly at your side again, wondering, “What do I make you feel, shutterbug?”

Like I’m falling and flying at the same time, you think, quick and startling. A bolt of lightning amongst storm clouds.

You press save.

“Like spending a hundred bucks wasn’t a total mistake.”

Day 448

You take a seat in the cafeteria across from Yovanna and her Sylveon. You’re lucky she shares the same lunch hour as you. Even more lucky she likes you enough to also share her space. Her knack for securing a table each day despite the scrambling rush of hungry students is a gift from the gods. Or maybe it’s a perk of being the president of the Academy’s student council.

“You haven’t stopped smiling for days.” She points with her fork at your grin, a giddy, bubbly thing not even Ms. Tyme’s pop quiz last period could stifle. “Spill it. Who’re you crushing on? Is he a student here? You got a picture?”

“Not with me.” It’s a lie, ever since you bought your camera it’s been glued to your person and there’s always at least one picture of him stored within the device’s gallery of Luxio shots and library aesthetic and other things that make you happy. “He is a student here though.”

Yovanna drops her fork onto her plate, jostling the pieces of fruit waiting to be eaten. Sylveon catches a flying strawberry midair by jumping in her seat and landing neatly on four paws like it’s a regular trick to perform. “Shut up. It’s him, isn’t it?”

You feed Luxio a pickle off your sandwich, neither confirming nor denying.

But your grin does get a little bit impossibly wider.

“Aw man, I owe Santi twenty bucks now.”

Your eyes narrow shrewdly. “Did you seriously make a bet?”

“You two are joined at the hip, of course I did.” Yovanna leans back in her chair, arms behind her head, not a single hint of shame for her actions. “Santi said you’d realize you had feelings for him before winter break. I thought it’d take you until the end of the semester ‘cause you’ve got the self-awareness of a piece of concrete most days.”

“Rude.” She dodges the crumpled napkin you toss at her with a laugh.

“Hey, this is a good development. Now you just gotta keep the momentum going and tell him how you feel. You’re perfect for each other.”

Tucking back into her meal, she misses the brief slip in your smile.

“Yeah.”

Day 8

Ms. Dendra is the only teacher without a classroom, preferring to use the battlefield in the middle of the courtyard for her lessons rather than a whiteboard. She weaves along the line of students with her Medicham, offering suggestions and correcting forms to make the most out of their Pokémons’ moves. You keep one eye on her drawing steadily closer and one on Shinx pawing at the ground, charging up electricity in his forelegs. He still hasn’t mastered thunder shock yet, maybe Ms. Dendra can–

“Storm’s coming tonight,” a voice drawls behind you, a curious blend of casual and enthusiastic.

You turn around, finding Frankie standing there looking up at the sky. The dark gray clouds do seem indicative of bad weather, now that he’s mentioned it. Rain is definitely on its way. 

And then he asks, a little sudden, “You ever seen one up close?”

A strange question. Still, you think about it, searching your childhood. All you remember are memories of cowering under the blankets in your bed and playing in puddles the next morning when the monstrous rumbling and harsh flashes had long passed. You’ve seen rain up close, felt the drops on your skin, inhaled the scent of petrichor deep into your lungs. But storms? 

“No,” you shake your head, shivering as the temperature seems to drop. “Never.”

He hums, a bland note that could mean anything. At your feet, Shinx and Pikachu sit and stare at each other, little sparks of blue and yellow static crackling in the air between them like morse code. 

“No wonder you’re having trouble with your partner. Can’t teach him about electricity when you’ve never seen it in action.”

“That’s not how training works,” you retort defensively. “Also storms aren’t exactly harmless, in case you forgot. They’re loud and dangerous and—”

“Beautiful,” Frankie cuts in with such firm conviction you reel back in surprise. “Absolutely, breathtakingly beautiful.” A pause follows, and you hate the smirk that grows on his face, how it taunts you, how it makes his eyes glitter with mischief. “Or maybe not. I could be lying. Only one way to find out for sure.” 

A raindrop lands on your cheek. Then another on your arm. And another on your nose. It’s pouring now. Students are complaining about their lesson being interrupted and Ms. Dendra’s shouting for everyone to head back inside. Through it all your eyes remain locked in an intense staring match, neither one willing to surrender.

“Fine,” you reply with a sharp jerk of your chin. “Show me.”

Day 1,448

Your internship with Professor Oak is—good. It’s the start of a brand new chapter in your life, except the last chapter ended on a terrible note and the upcoming pages are terrifyingly blank if you fail to impress your new boss, so. Yeah.

You get along with the Professor’s other intern, a local boy named Will. He teaches you how to drive the ZERO-ONE around the sanctuary. You spend hours out on the trails, memorizing everything about the wild Pokémon who call the island home. You enjoy the assignments Professor Oak gives you, staying busy, filling up albums with photos and journals with research notes. 

But when it’s quiet, when you’re staring up at the ceiling waiting for sleep to come…you’ve never felt more lonely in your life. Even with Luxray within reach, loyal and constant, there’s a persistent ache you can’t shake. A loose thread dangling in your mind, tormenting you, and you know if you were to tug on it exactly where it would lead.

Everything leads back to him.

Frankie hasn’t tried to call you. Hasn’t had any contact with you since graduation. Not even a postcard from whatever corner of the world he’s trying to accomplish his dreams. 

You haven’t tried to call him either. And yes, it’s true communication is a two-way street, but he’s the one who left and took your heart with him. Why should you give him more of yourself? You hate yourself for even contemplating picking up the phone.

You hate yourself even more for wondering what your relationship would’ve been like if you’d gone with him. If it’d hurt less to just have stayed friends. If you’d been better off never knowing him at all. If, if, if…

Day 485

The problem is, you think your feelings for Frankie are just a little bit stronger than a crush. You’re pretty sure you’re in love with him. Or at least halfway there. 

As much as you hate to admit it, Yovanna wasn’t wrong saying you have the self-awareness of a piece of cement. You don’t know for certain if the fluttery Butterfree sensation in your stomach or galloping heartbeat whenever Frankie smiles at you is love. But you are certain he’s gotten under your skin, triggering as many irritations as he is encouraging new ways of growth. You’re a better person, you think, simply by knowing him.

You also think it’s actually kind of scary to imagine something so strong and life-transforming could be anything else but love. Regardless, you hope it stays with you forever. This precious, nameless thing.

It won’t be until many days later—until you know what it’s like to kiss him, and hold his face between your palms, the heat of his breath tingling against your skin; until he’s fluent in myths and legends and fables, swearing he’ll be the one to make them truths and facts and verities; until you can’t picture a future without him in it, not a happy one, at least—you’ll realize you do love him. And he loves you, too, as it turns out.

But nothing lasts forever. Someone’s always got to be the first to let go. 

Day 1,375

You receive an offer for an internship with Professor Oak in Pallet Town to help him complete his Pokémon Report by taking photos on a nearby island sanctuary. It’s the opportunity of a lifetime to work with such an esteemed researcher, but thinking about graduation creeping up, about leaving behind this realm of familiarity now that you’ve learned everything Uva Academy has to teach, it’s—moving forward is harder than you anticipate.

It doesn’t help that Frankie's becoming more and more restless, unable to stand still as if it physically pains him to do so. No matter how many walks around the city, how many storms chased after, he’s always looking out towards the horizon, aura so thick with discontentment it’s as if he’s physically cloaked in it. 

Lately the only moments he seems to settle within his own skin are when he’s talking with Ms. Raifort, discussing ancient prophecies and ruins scattered around the globe. You don’t understand it, his passionate fascination–no, obsession with mythology. Why not let sleeping dogs lie? 

Frankie won’t talk to you about the future, evading the topic like a cunning Nickit. Still you cling to his hand, to hope, to the belief love conquers all, until the morning of graduation he comes to your dorm room and stares over your shoulder rather than meet your gaze. Even Pikachu hides her face in his curls, ears lowered despondently.

You let him in, the beginnings of dread stirring in your stomach, sensing whatever he’s got to say will have irreparable consequences.

“Did you have breakfast yet?” You gesture towards the kitchen, an unspoken can this wait? laced within the question.

“Not feeling very hungry today,” he answers, glancing about the room aimlessly. No, it can’t.

“That’s a first.” You take a seat on the sofa next to Luxray, grounding yourself by stroking a hand along his back. “You gonna tell me what’s on your mind or are you gonna make me guess?”

At that, Frankie finally turns to you, and his torn expression fractures something delicate inside of you, coldness flooding your lungs.

“I’ve been thinking. About us.”

“What about us?”

“I love you.” There’s no sweetness to the words. No tenderness. They are words of blood, of pain, scraping against his throat on their way out. “I’ve loved you from day one and I’ll love you ten thousand more. But what I want, what you want—it’s not the same thing. And it’s only going to hurt the longer we keep pretending otherwise.”

“Stop, please don’t—” your voice cracks, the cold gripping your heart now. Please don’t say it. Please don’t do this. “We’re—we’re good together. You know we are.”

“We were,” he amends, voice so unbearably gentle it’s a jagged blade against your soul. “We were so good. But we’re not ready for what comes next. We’ve become thunder and lightning, one ahead of the other. Our timing is off, shutterbug.”

Day 765

It’s drizzling a little when you return to campus. You shiver in your wet dress, grimacing as you accidentally step in a puddle, thoroughly soaking your flats and bare feet. Hopefully you won’t slip on the stairs and break your neck. That’d be the cherry on top of this disappointing evening.

You just want to shower, put on your comfiest pajamas, and fall asleep as fast as possible. 

Except when you reach your floor there’s a figure curled up on the floor outside your door, fast asleep with a snoring Pikachu curled on his chest.

“Hey, sleeping beauty.” You nudge at Frankie’s knee with your wet shoe, raising an eyebrow at him as he jerks awake, blinking rapidly. “What’re you doing here?”

“Oh, you’re back,” he says through a yawn, stretching his arms over his head. Pikachu grunts, displeased at the movement and sounds, and stubbornly curls into a tighter ball, forcing him to cradle her in the nook of his arm as he stands up. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I just–I wanted to make sure you got back from your date okay. How did it go?”

Your date, Tom, is in Mr. Hassel’s art class with you. He invited you to see a new photography exhibit at the city’s museum. He was nice, if a little overzealous, and seeing lovely displays of art  seemed like a better way to spend the evening instead of once again hopelessly pining over your best friend. So, you’d said yes, changed into a nice dress, and swore off any and all yearning.

Except that’s exactly what you ended up doing anyways. 

Every time a photo left you breathless, you’d instinctively turn to look for brown eyes that weren’t there. Every joke Tom made you’d compare it to one of Frankie’s. Throughout the entire evening, you couldn’t stop your thoughts drifting back towards the Academy, wondering what he was doing.

You weren’t surprised Tom cut the date short, correctly sensing your heart just wasn’t into it. Still stung a bit though watching him leave you behind to join up with some other classmates hanging out in the plaza.

“Poorly,” you answer with a slight grimace.

“Oh.” Frankie blinks, looking at a loss for additional words. He’s wearing the hoodie he got from his trip to Montenevera over the holiday break and sweatpants, warm and rumpled and cozy, a complete contrast to your entire wardrobe. “Did he–did he hurt you? Because if he did anything inappropriate, I swear–”

“What? No, no, nothing like that happened.” You shake your head, ignoring the flutter of your heartbeat, touched at his protectiveness. He’s still staring at you, and you know he’s not going to let this slide under the rug. “Relax, tough guy. Tom was fine. I was the problem.”

“Tauros shit,” he immediately rejects the notion. “You could never be a problem.”

The hallway feels too hot all of the sudden despite the icy raindrops still clinging to your skin. “That’s sweet,” you say, trying to flash a grin except the muscles in your face refuse to cooperate. It feels stiff. Forced. “You say that to all the girls?”

His mouth tugs upwards into a smile, dimpled and boyish. “Once or twice,” he says, “but I only mean it with you.”

It’s dangerous and stupid to get your hopes up, but there’s something about the quietness, something about his brown eyes and his nearness, that makes you take a leap of faith. Makes you think screw it and reach for his free hand, lacing your fingers together.

“I was the problem,” you tell him softly, watching his expression sober, “because I kept looking for you.”

Silence follows, interrupted by a quiet snore from Pikachu. 

Then, just as softly, Frankie says for a second time, “Oh.”

You swallow, feeling like you can’t breathe. “Yeah.”

“Silly girl, you didn’t need to look.” He squeezes your hand, leans in just enough to bump his nose against yours. “I’ve always been here.”

Day 1,375

Later, you won’t remember the particulars of how the rest of the conversation played out. There are words, so many words. Angry and inconsolable, spat out through clenched teeth and pleaded with numb lips. Tears, too. So many damn tears it’s a wonder you don’t drown yourself.

You will remember how he looks at you though. Brown eyes deep and golden, reflecting the morning light streaming through the window. He’s beautiful, and you think that’s the final straw of it all, the definitive proof that even as he’s ripping out your heart you will never feel anything less for him than love. 

No passage of time or miles of distance will ever change that. You know this like you know the sun will rise tomorrow, and the next day, and the one after that. 

Still, this certainty doesn’t stitch up the gaping, bleeding hole in your sternum.

No, that self-healing won’t begin until many, many days later.

Day 610 

In another life, if you hadn’t discovered your love of photography, you think you would have been a great astronomer. You know each of the constellations’ names, the best times during the year to spot them, even the tales assigned to them.

Tonight, the night sky is full of stars in every direction you look, not even the distant city lights strong enough to overpower their shine. You lie on your back in the soft meadow grass, hands resting on your stomach, the scent of wildflowers as thick in the air as the fireflies Luxio and Pikachu chase after. To your left, he mimics your pose, except he’s got an arm pillowed under his head, silent except for his breathing.

“There’s Kingler, cursed to hold up his heavy claw for eternity,” you say eventually, raising a hand to trace the starry outline with your fingertip. “Cubone’s next to him, forever mourning his mother.”

He remains silent. You turn your head to look at him, discovering he is deeply absorbed in his thoughts. Physically, you could easily reach out for his hand, but the blankness in his eyes suggests internally he’s half a world away. Somewhere you can’t follow. An irrational spark of jealousy burns hot in your veins, upset your presence isn’t enough of an anchor to keep him locked in the present moment.

You emit a quiet sigh, mentally rolling your eyes at your own childishness, and start to turn back to the sky when his voice catches you off guard, asking, “You ever notice they’re all tragedies?”

“Huh?”

“The myths behind the constellations.” He looks at you then, eyes dim with an emotion you can’t recognize. “Can you name one with a happy ending?”

You think about Pinsir, exiled due to his uncontrollable rage; Koffing, releasing toxic gases as he dies; Dugtrio, punished by an angry Groudon for gouging too many holes in the earth. The list grows longer, the tales grow sadder.

“No,” you say at last. “I guess not.”

He shrugs a shoulder, like it’s nothing, like his next words aren’t going to hurt something fierce. “That’s because happy endings are the biggest myth of all.”

Day 1,375

He kisses you. It is perfect and excruciating all at once. His hand is cupping your cheek, and his touch is so tender and intimately familiar you can’t stop yourself from indulging and it’s cruel of him to leave you like this. Shattered and wanting. Falling and flying.

But when Frankie’s right, he’s right.

This split in your paths has been a long time coming. You’d just refused to read the writing on the wall, content to keep counting the days, pretending the number would stretch on into infinity.

Infinity is just another word for forever though.

And there’s truth in that old saying: when you love someone—

“I love you,” he says again at the door. His eyes drift over your face, as if memorizing every detail. “And I’m proud of you. Remember that.” There’s the briefest of glimpses of tears in his eyes before he’s wrapping you in a hug, so tight your ribs painfully protest. You savor every second of it. “This isn’t the last of us. We’ll meet again, I swear it. One day, shutterbug.”

—you let them go.

Day 1,669

You’ve been dreading his arrival, dreading how he might look at you. What might be different. What, if anything, might be the same. 

All communication thus far has been directly with Professor Oak. You haven’t heard a single peep even though your number’s stayed the same. Even though you know he knows you’re here. 

Luxray stays close as the hour draws closer, trying to soothe your nervous energy. You stroke his mane, eyes flicking between your computer, the window, and then back again. The cursor blinks on the screen, waiting for you to finish adding the last details to the report you’ve been developing on the Pokémon signs you and Will discovered. Bizarre occurrences where the environment manifests the likeness of specific Pokémon—always the same ones in the same places. But why they existed and what they meant remained unsolved mysteries robbing you of sleep.

It had been the Professor's idea to invite another set of eyes to examine the clues after months of no solid progress. For every one step made forward it felt like the universe would shove you five steps backwards, the hidden connection remaining just out of your reach.

If you had known Professor Oak and Ms. Raifort were old friends, that she would’ve recommended her favorite pupil…well, you’re not sure if anything would’ve really changed. What fate wants, fate gets one way or another.

Frankie arrives at eventide, bringing the warmth of the fading sun into the lab with him. He looks…unchanged. Maybe a little broader, thicker with muscle from his journeys. But still familiar in all the ways that matter. You wonder if the same can be said for yourself. 

He’s looking at you, and it’s—it’s less painful than you expected. No tight band wrapped around your middle, no spontaneous bursting of tears. He’s just a man with a Pikachu on his shoulder and a dimpled grin on his face.

“Hey shutterbug,” he says, and it feels abruptly like slow motion, like you’re watching through someone else’s eyes as he comes closer, closer, closer and pulls you into a tight embrace. His arms are just as strong as you remember them, memories of graduation screaming in the back of your mind and you’re in your dorm room again watching him walk out of your life with your heart in tow.

You want to…

(kiss him, hit him, hold him, scream at him)

You want too many things.

“Hey,” you echo lamely as he pulls back. If Frankie hears the faintest of quivers in your voice, he thankfully doesn’t show a sign of it. You shoot a small grin at Pikachu, mouth stretching wider when she returns it with a cheerful pika pi, waving her paw. “Ready to help solve a mystery?”

“I always wanted to make history.” He’s smirking that same damn smirk, an intense pang of nostalgia striking you. Your fingers twitch, wishing you had your camera. “But I think it’s better this way, yeah?”

“What way?”

Distantly, you’re aware of Professor Oak and Will watching the conversation ping-ponging back and forth, both smart enough to pick up on the unspoken something between you and Frankie. 

“Making history together,” he says, as if it’s obvious. “We make a good team, you and I.”

The words bounce around inside your head for a moment. A good team. Is that all we are? is what you want to ask, but the answer’s a double-edged sword shoved between your ribs no matter how he phrases it. 

So you swallow the question down and bury it. 

“C’mon,” you gesture towards your computer, “I’ll show you what we’ve got so far.”

Day 128

Winter sweeps in, all frigid winds and frosted windows. Together you stay at the Academy during the holiday break. It’s days of no homework, snowball fights, and parka coats. Nights spent by the fireplace, hot chocolates topped with whipped cream, wishing you could bottle these memories in a jar and keep them on a shelf.

If Frankie knew about it, he would say Jirachi heard your wish, but it’s your opinion that fate’s just got a funny sense of humor. Either way, a few years down the line you’ll have the collection of memories you desired, almost all of them starring him. They won’t be kept in fragile jars, but in captured photographs unaffected by the withering flow of time. Little glimpses of a happy life, and how much you've lost.

Day 2,000 

You kiss Frankie on the front deck of the L.E.N.S. the night before he’s scheduled to leave. It’s stupid and impulsive, but he’s just right there in front of you, bathed in starlight and high off the elation that comes with solving another Pokémon mystery, further securing his place amongst the pages of historic exploration, a legend in his own lifetime, and there’s no thoughts in your head so—you kiss him. 

It isn’t your first kiss, but it feels like something new. He’s got stubble now, you’re wearing a lab coat—little details of proof you’re far from the kids you used to be. He smells the same though, like coffee and evergreens and fresh rain. The quiet, awed exhale of your name, like you’re something wonderful, something mythical come true, is the same too. 

And for the briefest of moments, you can almost imagine you’re together again.

But in the end it’s just a kiss, not a time machine. 

Day 1,762

“For someone with a new career, you don’t look very excited,” Will says, knocking his shoulder against yours good-naturedly. You try to summon up a smile, but it isn’t fooling anyone.

Professor Oak’s treating you both to a fancy dinner at a restaurant you can’t pronounce the name of, celebrating the news of your new job as an official field research photographer working alongside Professor Mirror in Florio. It’s an amazing step forward, resulting from the success of the Rainbow Cloud discovery with Frankie, certain to give your name another added boost of recognition in the photography community. 

“I am,” you say, remembering how you’d nearly passed out when you received the offer. Another attempt at a grin yields better results. “It’s gonna be great.”

Will tilts his head, a knowing look in his eyes. “You’re thinking about him. Again.”

“Not intentionally.” Your lips curl into a rueful grimace, fingers twisting together in your lap. “He just…never leaves my thoughts.”

Frankie told you before he left he didn’t have a home, not anymore, too much of a restless spirit to stay in one place. You wonder if his answer would be different, if he knew it’s been 1,762 days and every one of them he’s spent occupying your head.

“Even when he’s gone and left you behind?” From anyone else, the question would’ve been harsh, but your friend’s eyes are kind, full of empathy. 

There’s a second where you contemplate lying, but you can’t. Not to him, and not to yourself.

“Especially then.”

Day 2,000

“Sorry.” It comes out of your mouth stilted—not because you don’t mean it, but because your heart’s beating like a thunderstorm. A wildness you haven’t felt in years.

“I’ve never needed an apology from you.” Frankie looks at you softly, the brown of his eyes getting lost in the dark. “Two thousand. Can you believe it? Seems like just yesterday I watched you walk into class.”

You forget sometimes that he’s the sentimental type too when it comes to those he cares about. It’s why he doesn’t give Pikachu a Thunderstone, and why he only knows how to play one song on a guitar, his mother’s favorite. How sweet it is, to learn he must care about you to keep count, maybe even love you a little bit still.

“Frankie,” you start, dropping your forehead onto his shoulder. His nearness is a comfort as much as it is a distraction, but this conversation is long overdue by hundreds of days. “What are we?”

“You tell me.” A hand comes to rest on your waist, a searing brand through the fabric of your clothes. “What do you want us to be?”

You think about the question for a long moment, wondering what words pack enough meaning to give the answer it deserves.

What you want is another storm to chase, another constellation to trace. What you want is for your hands to brush during walks, never having to hear his voice on the end of a phone again because he’s right there by your side. What you want is everything that once was to align in perfect harmony with the immediate now.

“I want us to be together.”

“We are.”

“No, we’re not,” you murmur, staring down at the mud stains on his boots. 

“Listen, shutterbug,” his hands move to your head, one tilting up your chin and the other gently palming your neck, forcing you to meet his gaze, “a lot can happen in two thousand days–”

“I know, I know.”

His fingers spasm, like he’s resisting the urge to tug on your hair, eyes sharpening at the interruption. “A lot can happen in two thousand days,” he repeats, and you hear it this time, the heavy weight in his tone. Rarely is he this serious. “We’ve changed, we’ve grown, we’ve been on opposite ends of the earth from each other. But tonight, of all places, I’m here and you’re here.”

And maybe it really is that simple. People say lightning doesn’t strike the same place twice, but twice now you’ve watched him go and twice he’s been brought back to you. 

You reach up, wrapping your hands around his wrists, holding him there. “Do you think we’ll ever be what we were?”

“No.” He steps impossibly closer, lips brushing against your forehead. “I think one day we’ll be better.”

Better, you mouth the word. It feels like a promise, like a turning point. 

“Yeah, one day,” you agree, heartbeat steadying, matching the rhythm of his beneath your fingertips. “It’ll be worth the wait.”

[dumfanting]

Same Heart ch 35- Riddur (Finale)

AO3 Link

Rating: E, explicit

Warnings: proposal, handjobs, fingering (f receiving), squirting, PiV, body dysmorphia, Emotions, oral (giving and receiving), blowjobs, face sitting, vibrators | fem reader, present tense, second person PoV

This was originally supposed to be just three chapters, and I didn’t expect anybody outside of a small discord server to see it. Now it’s a full-blown multiple volume series and I can’t even imagine how many people have read it at this point. I wanted to quit multiple times, but the support everyone’s shown me and this work is what kept me going. I can’t really put into words how it feels to reach this point. Thank you all so much for making this what it is today, and a huge thank you to @kaminocasey @madameminor and @mcganns for (gently) pushing me to break out of my comfort zone and write fics in the first place. I love y’all so much.

Illustration is my own work

Consider this a ‘season finale’. There will be more, and the next volume will pick up just before ‘Aftermath’. I hope you’ll enjoy that just as much as you have this.

6738 words

F! Reader/ Echo | F! Reader/ Crosshair

All is right in the galaxy again as you both drift off to sleep.

It’s immediately clear where the glowing stone had gone. It’s been cut and faceted into a kind of cushioned oval and set into a thin ring of bright silver, the colors of the stone reflecting off of the metal in the low light. It’s nothing flashy or even all that fancy, but it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. Echo clears his throat and speaks. 

“I kept saying half of me was missing, but I realized today that it isn’t. It’s you, and it always has been. You’ve done so much for me, I don’t have the words to express how deeply I love you and how grateful I am. I… I never want to be apart from you again,” he says, and you’re taken aback by the emotion in his voice and the way he stumbles over his words.

“Echo, w-wha-?” you say, but can’t speak further due to the thundering of your heart in your chest. He clears his throat and calls you by your formal name. 

“Keep me whole. Be my riddur?”

It takes you a solid thirty seconds to process what’s happening, but when it does, it hits you all at once. His odd behavior throughout the day, why he and Shalka kept looking at you, what he and Crosshair had been talking about, even the slight jealousy you sensed from Crosshair, it all adds up. You can’t decide whether to laugh or cry, and wind up doing an odd combination of both. 

Startled by this, Echo tries to get to his feet, but you drop to your knees in front of him and pull him as close to your chest as you can, still laugh-crying. After a minute or so, he shifts back from you and sets the small box aside before carefully cupping your face in his hands. 

“Should I not have-?” he starts, but you interrupt him by crashing your lips against his. He’s caught off guard, at first, then eagerly reciprocates. After a minute, Echo pulls away for air, panting. Before you can kiss him again, he firmly holds you by the shoulders and doesn’t let go until your breathing returns to normal. 

“Good Maker, are you alright?” he asks, incredulous, though his voice is soft and low. 

“Y-yeah, yeah, I’m okay,” you say. Echo still looks concerned. You sit back on your heels and wipe at your eyes with the back of your hand, a feeble laugh escaping your lips every now and then as you take a moment to collect yourself. 

“I’m just relieved,” you say. He makes a confused sound at you and you explain: “You’ve been acting off all day, and after the Force thing last night I was worried you were afraid of me.” 

“It was startling, but no, not at all,” he says. He leans forward and kisses you again, softly this time, and picks the small box back up. He holds it open within your line of sight. 

“So…?” he says pointedly, glancing nervously between your eyes and the ring.

On the verge of being overcome with emotion again, all you can manage to do is nod with a wide smile when you meet his eyes.

It takes a few seconds for him to realize that you’ve said ‘yes’ before he throws his arms around you and kisses you deeply again. You hold onto each other as tightly as you can, neither wanting to let go. 

Eventually, the two of you sit back, and Echo delicately picks the ring out of the box and slips it onto your finger. It’s a little snug, but you can still slide it on and off without getting stuck. You stare at it, watching the blue and purple colors of the stone swim as you move your fingers, and Echo is captivated by the way its glow reflects in your eyes. 

He gets to his feet, then pulls you upright at the foot of the bed. He holds his hands to your hips and softly rests his forehead against yours. As he does, you sense a rush of things from him all at once, but most prominent are feelings of gratitude and love so intense that your entire body tingles. 

“I love you so much,” you whisper. 

“I believe you,” he says, just as quiet. 

He kisses you, and the air feels electrified. Soon, whatever has been holding you both back vanishes, and you’re kissing and touching each other with the same intensity that you had back downstairs. 

Echo lays onto the bed, pulling you down with him as he goes. You hover over him on your hands and knees and start to undo the snaps and straps of his armor, moving entirely by muscle memory as you go, despite how long it’s been since you last did this. With your hands busy, he’s putting his to good use by quickly unbuttoning your shirt. You break away long enough to free your arms from the sleeves and drop the shirt onto the floor, followed by your pants. Echo takes this opportunity to shuck off the remaining pieces of his armor you haven’t already freed him from. 

Once you’ve stripped to just your bra and panties, and he to his blacks, Echo grabs you by the shoulders and crashes his lips into yours. You open up for him and as your tongues dance, he shifts his weight and rolls the two of you over so that he’s on top. Without breaking away, he moves his hands underneath you and manages to unhook your bra on the first try. Surprised, you pull back and can’t help but smirk at him. 

“Nice having two hands again, huh? What else can you do?” you say with a laugh. You slip your arms through the straps of your bra and throw it aside too, freeing your breasts and making Echo groan. He dips his head down where your neck meets your shoulder and mouths at the delicate skin there, making his way up to your ear. 

“Let me show you,” he says, making you shiver. He ghosts his cybernetic hand over the wet spot in your panties, and when you excitedly nod at him, he moves the thin, lacy material aside and slips his two middle fingers into you. You flinch and he glances back up at you, then starts to move back out, but you stop him by holding his wrist in place.

“No no, I’m okay! It’s just a little cold,” you say, apologetic. Echo cringes, but you softly kiss his forehead. “Please touch me, Echo,” you say, the faintest whine audible in your voice. 

He shrugs in an ‘if you say so’ manner and you unhand him. He moves slowly, giving you time to stretch around him, then twists his wrist in a way that wouldn’t be possible with his organic hand. Your brief confusion over this is immediately forgotten when you feel his fingers start to vibrate inside you, and you gasp at the new sensation. He starts to move his fingertips in a tight, circular motion, quickly and expertly finding that specific spot that makes you moan loudly and arch your back. 

After a minute of this, he slips his fingers out of you long enough for you to ditch your panties and for him to take off his undershirt before plunging back into you. He’s still kissing you, and his free hand is cupped around the back of your head, his fingers buried into your hair. Once he’s found a rhythm between your legs, he makes you curse when he uses his vibrating thumb to gently stroke upwards along your clit. Your hips buck involuntarily against his hand and you whimper. 

“Oh god, Echo-oh!” you cry, but the sudden force of your orgasm stops you from finishing that thought as you clamp your thighs together and draw his name out into a loud moan. He keeps his hand moving, working you through your orgasm and beyond it; he only stops after your hips buck once more and you come a second time with a yell as you soak his hand and the duvet below. He twists his wrist in that unnatural way again and pulls his stilled fingers out of you, sitting up and watching you pant and gasp. 

“Wh-,” you try to say, but you need a second to collect yourself and catch your breath. “Who’s idea was that?”

“Tech’s, according to Shalka,” Echo says, clearing his throat. “They’d been talking for so long I just tuned it out and didn’t hear him bring it up. She told me the next day.” 

There’s a surge of heat that rushes to your core when you hear this that you’ll examine later, but you ignore it and laugh a little as you shake your head. You make a mental note to thank Tech when you next see him, then quickly put everything aside from Echo back out of your mind. 

You clasp your hands behind his neck, pull him down to your level, and kiss him deeply, humming softly when he kisses you back. As this happens, your hands move along his back, his sides, and his chest while you delicately trace your fingertips around where the edges of his modifications meet his skin. When he notices what you’re doing, he freezes and you take your hands off of him immediately. He turns his head and swallows hard, unable to meet your eyes. You softly apologize and carefully hold one side of his jaw before gently pulling him back to face you. 

“This is entirely at your pace Echo. Just tell me to stop and I will,” you say, your voice firm. 

“God, please don’t ever stop,” he whispers, and rests his forehead against yours, failing to hide a hiccup. “I… I  need you,” he continues before trailing off and looking away from you again, making your heart ache for him.

You’ve seen him naked often by now and got a pretty thorough look at how his body changed, but you know that right now is different. Completely alone with you and so emotionally charged, you’ve never seen Echo this vulnerable before. You realize how much he trusts you, to completely let his guard down like this, and your heart aches for him again.

Unsure of what to do, you glance around the room until an idea strikes you. You’re able to sit up and stretch your arm far enough to reach the single lit lamp and click it off. You settle back into place and softly pat your chest, and Echo correctly interprets this by resting his head to your chest, right over your heart. You gently set the palm of one hand between his shoulder blades, and trace your nails over his scalp with the other. You keep this up for a minute or two and notice when he relaxes significantly. He props himself back up and dips his head down to shakily whisper that he loves you into your ear. 

“You too, Echo. Tell me what you need,” you say, your voice soft and warm as he kisses his way back up and down your neck.

“Just you, Meds,” he says. After a moment’s hesitation, he nervously takes hold of your wrist and guides your hand to his groin. 

You gently cup him there and he groans. You feel his cock twitch against your palm and look pointedly up at him, biting your lip. Echo says “Please,” in an almost desperate tone and kisses you again.

Permission granted, you slip your hand into his blacks and free his cock from its confines. You spit into your palm and begin stroking him, making him moan. After a moment, you cautiously tug at his waistband, and he quickly strips off the last of his clothing. 

The two of you slip between the sheets and you lie underneath him, your hands resting on his lower back as your legs open. You nudge your knees against his, and immediately after, he takes a deep breath and carefully lines himself up with you. He glances between your hips and your face, making sure you really want this. You move your hands to the sides of his head and pull him down to you, whispering your consent before crushing your lips to his.

With this, Echo slowly starts pushing himself forward and finally, finally penetrates you, making you both moan as he hilts. You’d almost forgotten how perfectly he fits into you, and it’s so familiar that you suddenly think of Fives and have to fight off a lump in your throat. Echo notices the change in your expression and quickly slips out, clearly knowing what you’re thinking. 

“I know, cyare,” he whispers, cupping your cheek, “you don’t have to.”

“I want to,” you say, also whispering. 

“Promise?” he asks, quiet enough that you almost don’t hear him. 

“I swear,” you say, looking into his eyes. “Please, Echo. I need to feel you again, it’s been so fucking long,” you continue, almost begging him. 

He believes you and gives you a soft kiss, then seconds later gradually pushes himself back into your hot, wet pussy, the both of you moaning loudly as he bottoms out. You wrap your arms tighter around his upper back and hold him, softly panting. He repeats the motion, and when you moan his name, he begins moving in earnest. You wrap your legs around his hips as they smack against yours, and the sound of skin on wet skin is obscene, though it’s nearly drowned out by the equally obscene sounds the two of you are making. You’re idly aware that there are people who might hear you, but you don’t give a damn. 

Echo starts to thrust into you harder, and you already feel a familiar tension in your lower belly. You stretch your neck and kiss him, and when you break apart he presses his forehead against yours, closing his eyes and breathing you in. The feeling of being so intensely loved makes you shudder in the best way.

After a moment, you move your hands to grip his shoulders, and with a little effort you manage to roll the two of you over until you're on top. You sit up and straighten your back as you straddle him, moving your hips in slow, languid circles. His hands settle there and he holds you in place, moving his hips like a piston upward into you. Your lower back tingles from the feeling of being so full, and you bend at the waist until you’re chest to chest with him. You take his hands into yours and lock your fingers together, all the while never letting your lips leave his for more than a second. 

After a minute of this, Echo imitates you by gripping your shoulders and rolling the two of you over until you’re under him again. However, his movements slow, then stop altogether. You can tell he’s holding himself back, and the pained expression on his face grabs your attention. 

“Echo? What’s wrong?” you ask, your voice so soft that it’s almost inaudible. He doesn’t answer you right away and in fact is having trouble looking at you. 

“N-nothing,” he eventually says, and his voice is thick, which startles you for the second time tonight. “It’s just…” he trails off.

“Just what?” you ask, concerned and slightly confused. You prop yourself up on your elbows and when his eyes meet yours, you’re hit with an unexpected wave of sorrow and loneliness. 

“I… I told you that I’d dream about you, back on Skako…” he says, and you nod, recalling the conversation clearly. 

“It was always like this,” he continues, then takes a moment to clear his throat. “But every time you and I would… I- I’d wake up just enough to realize that I was actually alone.” He hiccups and hides his face in the crook of your neck, a single warm tear falling onto your skin. Your heart shatters and you hold him with one hand on the back of his head and the other between his shoulder blades.

“I don’t want to wake up and lose you again,” he says, his voice trembling badly. 

You make a quiet shushing sound and rub a hand up and down his back in a soothing, gentle way, taking care to avoid his modifications. 

“Echo, baby, look at me,” you say, calling him that for the first time, and when he looks up at you, you cup his cheek, then gently brush a stray tear away with your thumb. “I’m not going anywhere. You’ll never have to be alone again, I promise you,” you say, turning your hand around to remind him of the ring he’d just put onto your finger. He hiccups, but the fear is starting to fade from his eyes as he looks at you. He takes a deep breath and lets out a shuddering exhale a few times, gradually calming himself back down. 

Once it seems that he’s leveled off, you gently kiss him, then subtly shift your hips around him as he stays inside of you. He curses softly under his breath and when you do it again he meets your eyes. The trace of doubt you find there slips away when you tell him that you love him. He cautiously starts to move again, and you lay flat on your back, raising your hips to meet his thrusts. Before long, he’s returned to the same hard, feverish pace he’d set earlier, and much too soon, that tight feeling in your lower abdomen returns. 

“I’m so close, Echo,” you whine. 

“Good,” he says, panting. “I won’t last much longer.” 

You kiss him again and as you do his hips stutter and his muscles lock. As you feel his cock twitch deep inside of you, the tension in your gut is released and you come with a loud cry, clenching around him and milking out everything he has. 

Seconds later, his muscles abruptly relax and he collapses into your chest. The two of you gasp for breath, clinging onto each other for dear life. You remain like this for about a minute before Echo shakily props himself back up on his elbows. When you look into his eyes, you involuntarily sense what he’s feeling again. Everything you’ve been through, the loss and horror and especially the grief, are all washed away by the powerful, indescribable warmth of love and euphoria that crashes over you from him. 

You only notice the tears in your eyes when Echo softly brushes a few away with his thumb, then you reach up and return the favor. You press your foreheads together again, and you both start to laugh and cry at the same time. 

Once this passes and he goes soft, he pulls out of you with a groan, and you feel his release spilling out, but you don’t care. Nothing in the universe could distract you from Echo right now. He pats your shoulder and you move over a little, giving him space to lie on his back. You, now on your side, rest your head in the hollow of his shoulder. Eventually he turns and faces you, and the two of you hold each other tight, not speaking a word but still saying so much. 

All is right in the Galaxy again as you both drift off to sleep. 

Hours later, the mid-morning sun shines through the enormous window of the room. Echo quickly regains consciousness, but stays still with his eyes shut tight. Last night replays in his mind and he’s afraid that once he fully wakes up he’ll find out it was just another dream. That is, until he feels movement on his left side and hears you yawn softly before whispering his name. He steels himself, and reluctantly opens his eyes. When he does, he sees you, backlit by the sunlight and smiling at him. He lets out the breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding and you chuckle at him. 

“I told you I’m not going anywhere,” you say, your voice raspy from sleep. Echo doesn’t say anything but the relief you sense from him and see on his face is overwhelming. 

You press your nude body against his and kiss him passionately. When you break apart after some time, Echo groans and you feel his cock twitch against your thighs. In response, you push him onto his back and slip down past his waist, coming to a stop with your head over his pelvis. The sensation of your warm breath breezing over his skin gets him achingly hard almost immediately and he groans. You giggle and lick a wide stripe along your palm before you firmly take his cock into your hand and jerk him off at a slow but steady pace until his hips buck up into your hand.

You let go of his cock, but still hold it up with a single finger under the tip as you drag your tongue along the underside, eventually reaching the head and tracing around his slit, lapping up the sticky sweetness of his precum. His hips jerk again and he whines your name. You look up and softly smile at him before wrapping your lips around his cock head, making him twitch again. As you suck his dick, rapidly moving your head up and down along his shaft, you draw the most deliciously sinful sounds out of him. You giggle and hum, and the vibration of your throat proves to be too much. 

“Fuck, don’t stop, I’m gonna-,” he says, the last word melting into a long groan and his hips twitch violently as he cums. You swallow around him, sucking out as much as you possibly can, humming in pleasure all the while. Only once he curses and jerks back away from your mouth do you sit up and free him. He watches you, panting for breath, before he suddenly sits up, grabs your hips, and pulls you forward as he lies back down. 

Knowing what he wants, you shift to your knees and hover your dripping cunt over his face. He grabs your hips again and yanks you down, making you sit on his face as he slips his tongue into you and slurps up as much of your arousal as he can. When you moan his name, he takes it a step further by twisting his cybernetic’s wrist and holding his vibrating thumb to your clit as he eats you out like a man starved. The sudden additional stimulation makes you inadvertently grind down against his strong tongue and you whimper. 

Echo looks up at you with a satisfied expression and doubles his efforts, increasing the vibration of his thumb with another odd twitch and making you cry out as your legs clamp around his head. He pushes you back enough to look up at you and you hold eye contact as you orgasm with a shiver and a loud gasp of his name. You grind yourself downward again and it intensifies when he nips at the head of your clit and sucks at it between his teeth. Your entire body tenses up before you slip sideways off of his face and bonelessly drop back onto the mattress, your hips still occasionally spasming forward from the aftershock of such a powerful orgasm. 

After you catch your breath, you sit up and find Echo watching you, his back straight against the headboard and his cybernetic hand lazily stroking himself. He cocks an eyebrow at you and you eagerly nod at him. He sits up a little straighter and folds his legs, then you quickly climb into his lap and squat as you lower yourself down onto his leaking cock. Once you’re seated properly, you move your legs and wrap them around his waist, locking your ankles together against the small of his back. The newfound tightness this position creates makes you so full that your lower back tingles, and you clench around him. He groans your name and grabs a handful of your ass before he starts to undulate his hips and fuck up into you. 

You can’t remember the last time you’d been hit so deeply, and you arch your back as you moan Echo’s name. He takes his free hand and cups one of your breasts, the cool durasteel of his palm against your warm skin making you shiver. He repositions his hand, now holding your pebbled nipple between two fingertips and gently rolling it between them. You let out a shaky gasp and grab the sides of his head, pulling his mouth to yours and kissing him. He thrusts into you harder, and as you moan into the kiss he opens up and swallows all the pretty sounds you make to keep for himself. 

You begin to grind your hips into his in loose circles and slip one of your hands down to where your bodies meet. Before you can touch yourself, Echo snares your wrist and softly tuts at you. He moves his replaced hand downward and away from your breast, his fingertips barely brushing along your skin as he goes. With a twitch of his thumb he’s vibrating again, and when he grazes the very end of your clit you cry out his name. 

“Oh fuck, Echo!” you whine. He smirks at you and presses the pad of his thumb against your clit, making you almost convulse around him as your eyes roll up towards the ceiling. 

“God damn it you’re perfect,” he says, growling lowly into your ear and nipping along your neck again. When you shiver in response, he sits back enough to commit the look of near-ecstasy on your face to his memory. Still working your clit and thrusting his cock into you, he leans forward, grazing his teeth against the junction where your neck meets your shoulder. You whimper, and he raises his head just enough to breathe into your ear. 

“You’re close, aren’t you?” he says, his breath hot on your skin. 

“I-I’m right there, please Echo,” you say, setting your pride aside. 

“Will you a good girl and come on my cock, riddur?” he says, chuckling darkly when he notices the way you whine and clench around him when he uses the Mando’a word. 

“Yes! I’ll be good for you Echo, I need-,” you say, nearly begging him, but he cuts you off by making you cry out as he bites into your shoulder and sucks a dark bruise into your skin. Your mouth opens in a silent scream as you finally orgasm, your entire body locking up with the intensity of it. 

Satisfied, Echo returns his hands to your hips and holds you down tightly against his pelvis as his cock twitches and he fills you with so much cum that it leaks out. His hold on you loosens at the same time your muscles relax and the two of you slump into each other, both completely fucked out and panting for breath.

About an hour after your senses return to you, you and Echo have both cleaned yourselves up, gotten dressed, and packed your things. As you take the long ride back down to the ground floor in the lift, Echo wonders aloud how often, if at all, you’ll be able to get that close while on the Marauder. You admit that you don’t know. 

“It doesn’t matter how quiet we are, Hunter is always going to be able to tell,” you say with a sigh. 

“His hearing really is that good, huh?” Echo says, allowing you to step out of the lift first and lead the way into the lobby. 

“Well, there’s that, yes, but I inadvertently found out on Anaxes that he can fucking smell it too,” you say. 

“Damn, even in the shower?” Echo asks, failing to hide his disappointment. The two of you step into the queue for the front desk and continue talking.

“Despite the shower,” you say, rolling your eyes as Echo curses under his breath. “But don’t worry, we’ll figure something out,” you say, briefly pecking his cheek. 

“Oh, we’d better,” he says, tracing a fingertip across the dark spot on your neck and making you twitch. “I don’t know how long I’ll be able to go without tasting you again,” he says, his voice low in your ear. You loudly clear your throat and try to ignore the blossoming heat between your legs. 

The conversation ends right when you reach the front desk. The same young Chiss man that you’d spoken to last night is there again, and he greets you with a wide smile. “Well, good morning!” he says. “What did you think of the view up there?” 

“Oh, we didn’t notice,” Echo says, taking your hand into his and glancing over at you. The young man looks between you with a knowing expression and finishes out the transaction with no further comments, aside from thanking you both for staying before you walk away. 

You’re almost back to the hangar in yet another taxi when you suddenly think about Crosshair. You stare down at the ring on your left hand and wonder if this will change things with him. You must be wearing your concern on your face, because Echo speaks up as if he knows what you’re thinking. 

“You wanted to know what Crosshair and I were talking about, right?” he says, and you nod. He takes your hand and holds it up to the light, making the colors of the glowing stone on your finger shine brightly. 

“It was this,” he says thoughtfully. 

“What, did you ask his permission?” you say, raising an eyebrow at him. 

“Of course not,” Echo says, interlacing your fingers with his. “It’s not like either of us own you.”

“Good answer,” you say, and he softly shakes his head at you. 

“I just told him what I was planning,” he says. “He didn’t seem to object to it,” he adds with a shrug. You huff in an exaggerated manner. 

“And he clearly told the others so they all could pitch in and upgrade the room,” you say. “I really was the last one to know, wasn’t I?” you say. Echo softly kisses your cheek. 

“Yes, but that’s kind of the point,” he says. 

“So, what did he say?” you ask, fidgeting with the strap of your bag. 

“Ask him yourself,” Echo says, nodding towards the window behind you as the taxi slows to a stop. Outside, you see Crosshair and Wrecker waiting on the sidewalk for you. After paying the driver, you both step outside, and Echo leaves you with Crosshair while he and Wrecker gather up your things from the trunk. 

You meet Crosshair’s eyes and nervously bite your lip, waiting for him to say something. He lifts your left hand and gets a good look at the ring on your finger. 

“Surprised it fits,” he says casually. You blink at him, confused. He looks between you, the ring, and Echo, then smirks at you. 

“This changes nothing, I hope you know. Told him that too,” he says, then holds you about the waist and pulls you in for a deep kiss. You sigh into him, relieved. Almost immediately, you feel someone’s eyes on you, and when you step back from Crosshair, you spot Wrecker staring at you confused. He glances between the two of you and Echo a few times.  

“That’s allowed?” he says in disbelief.  

You’re about to say something but Crosshair, with his hand on your shoulder, rolls his eyes and leads you back toward the ship, leaving Echo behind to explain it to him. 

“At this rate Hunter is the only one who hasn’t asked about it,” Crosshair says as you both walk up the Marauder’s open ramp.

“Oh, I already knew,” Hunter says, meeting you inside. Crosshair shakes his head, somewhere between amused and annoyed, and mumbles something about an application process. He walks past Hunter and tugs you, laughing, behind him. 

Once inside, Crosshair goes into the refresher and you spot Tech in the cockpit going through his usual preflight checks. You stand quietly in the doorway, not wanting to interrupt him. He’s startled by your unexpected presence when he turns around, but quickly regains his composure, adjusting his goggles as he approaches you. 

“There you are Meds, I was wondering when you would get here,” he says. 

“Missed me that much, huh?” you say. 

“I have,” he says, surprising you. Before you can react, he moves past you and continues speaking. 

“I’m sure you’re aware that I and the others have been modifying the ship,” he says, leading you to the bunks. You’re about to answer him, but you stop short when you both get there. 

When you joined the squad, there were six bunks on the ship, three to a side, and the extra two at the back were used for temporary storage. Your first night aboard, Wrecker had readily given you his spot and moved into the emptied spare behind it. 

Looking at them now though, you’re confused when you only see four, then you notice a wall and a small closed door that definitely wasn’t there before. You only realize that Echo has caught up with you when he inadvertently voices your thoughts. 

“What the hell did you do to the bunks?” he asks, just as confused as you are. You step toward the door and it slides open, revealing an entirely separate room. You poke your head inside and find a bed, in one piece, made up of the two missing bunks. It’s tucked against the left wall, and there's a small intercom speaker and switch near the door, a fair few compartments, and just enough room to stand upright and move in front of the bed.

You back out, allowing Echo to get a look at the space, and Tech catches your eye, looking quite proud of himself. 

“That’s what you’ve been doing all week?” you ask in disbelief. 

“Where’d ya think we’ve been?” Wrecker says, approaching with your bags. He squeezes his way past everyone and into your room, then drops your things onto the bed, surprising you when it makes no noise. 

“The idea occurred to me after seeing the two of you cram into one bunk once we left Anaxes. I was originally going to just clear out the last extra bunk, until Hunter informed me that you and Echo would likely prefer to share a space. I had to rearrange a large portion of the ship's components and wiring, but I believe you’ll find it satisfactory,” he says. You simply stare at him for a moment while you try to find your words. 

“But that must have been an ass-load of work!” you eventually say. Tech waves this off.

“Hunter did insist on one thing,” he continues, then nods at Wrecker, who grins and shuts the door. About a second later you hear a very muffled sound from inside, which impresses you, knowing how loud he can be. 

“It’s almost completely soundproof,” Hunter says, speaking up from the back. “Thank god,” he adds, giving you and Echo a stern look. Echo meets his eyes and awkwardly rubs at the back of his neck. Meanwhile, Crosshair, who you only now notice is in the vicinity, smirks and rolls his eyes from where he’s standing behind Tech. 

Once Wrecker leaves your room, everyone disperses, save for you and Tech, who’s stayed behind to keep telling you about the new space. He leads you inside and points out a few key things, mainly the lock on the door and intercom controls. He realizes that you haven’t said anything else in a while and looks over at you. He finds you watching him with a soft expression, which catches him off guard.

“This is so thoughtful of you,” you say, looking around the room. 

“It simply made the most sense,” he says, shrugging at you. You turn towards him and smile. 

“Well, I’m very grateful,” you say. Tech simply nods at you and turns to leave the room, but before he does, you remember something. 

“Oh, by the way,” you say, recapturing his attention. When he stops and turns back toward you, you take a few steps closer to him, then glance around to make sure you won’t be overheard. 

“Echo told me while we were alone last night that a specific feature of his cybernetic was your idea,” you say, keeping your voice low. Tech’s lips part and his eyes widen. 

“What,” he says, then pauses to clear his throat. “What about it?” he asks, matching your low volume.

“Just that I really enjoyed it, so I wanted to say thank you,” you say, holding his gaze. It takes him two attempts to speak.

“E-everything functioned to your, um, needs then?” he asks, and you barely manage not to chuckle when you notice that his face is flushed.

“Oh yes, it all worked perfectly,” you say, keeping your tone casual, as if discussing the weather. You startle him for a second time that day when you very briefly kiss his cheek. 

“Thank you Tech, for everything,” you say. He seems unable to speak, and it occurs to you that you probably crossed a line. 

“Oh damn, did I-?” you say, speaking quickly and taking a step back. 

“N-no, it’s,” he says, finding his voice. He clears his throat. “It’s fine, Meds. I don’t mind,” he continues, then abruptly slips out of the door without another word. He glances back at you over his shoulder as he goes and you can sense a faint feeling of want drifting from him in your direction. 

You start to feel bad for flustering him, but the feeling is quickly forgotten when Tech’s place is almost immediately taken by Crosshair, who shuts the door behind him. He kisses you, then sits on the bed and pulls you into his lap, resting his chin on your shoulder, your back to his chest.

“I see that things went well last night,” he says, pressing a finger to the mark Echo had left and making you inhale sharply. “Did you two-?” he says, leaving the question open-ended. 

“Finally, yes,” you say with a laugh. A laugh that morphs into a soft gasp when Crosshair moves and starts kissing along your neck. 

“Good,” he says, and although you can’t see his face, you can practically hear him smirking. “That means it’s my turn,” he says, nipping at your pulse. You turn around in his lap and roll your eyes at him. He rests his hands on your ass, then leans in and kisses you with surprising gentleness, humming softly when your lips meet. 

“I missed you, kitten,” he says, pressing his forehead against yours. 

Before you can say anything, there’s a knock at the door. You reach over and open it to find Hunter standing there, and you can’t tell if he’s annoyed by what he sees.

“We haven’t even left the ground yet, you two really can’t wait?” he says, leaning against the door frame. 

“The entire point of this room is so you won’t bother us,” Crosshair says, definitely annoyed. “What do you want?” 

“Orders just came in, they want to do a full work up with Echo on Kamino,” Hunter says, then shakes his head again as he walks away. Before the door slides shut, Echo steps inside and looks at you two, amused. 

“Tech wants me up front,” he says, then steps forward and briefly kisses you. “Can you two contain yourselves, at least until we reach hyperspace?” he says, trying to hold back a smirk. You and Crosshair exchange a glance and say ‘no promises’ in unison. Echo rolls his eyes and steps back out, closing the door behind him. 

You return your attention to Crosshair and find him watching you with a soft look in his eyes. He leans in and kisses you, then lies back onto the bed, pulling you down with him and holding you closely to his chest. You meet his gaze and sense nothing but love and adoration. You abruptly remember Fives’ warning about Crosshair, but easily chase the thought away, surprising yourself. 

Whatever the future may hold, you think, you’ll handle it as it comes. Right now, all you want to do is be with the men you love. 

Taglist/ thank yous: @kaminocasey @madameminor @jennamelinda12 @arctrooper69 @the-cantina @jedi-hawkins @wolveria @zoeykallus @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @whore4rex @echo-is-worth-more-than-2000 @vanyaluxz1007 @jane8675

[headcansxfanfictions]

Hisoka & Illumi Drunk Fic PART #3

TW: SA❗️⚠️non-consensual sexual contact ⚠️

AN: Nothing sexually graphic though. This will be posted on my AO3 with the previous chapters.

At some point the Hisoka realized that housekeeping would be by soon and they should dip before they are found with a dead body in the bathroom. An hour of travel later the pair are stumbling into Hisoka’s rather luxurious apartment at the top of Heaven’s arena. Being a floor master has its perks.

Somewhere along the lines Illumi went from drinking only for the game, to nursing a bottle of wine like a 40 year old going through a divorce. Hisoka had sobered up quite a lot by now but Illumi was waisted. So Hisoka stumbled towards his bedroom, half carrying an ill looking Illumi. Illumi had insisted on walking even tho it would have been easier for Hisoka to just full on cary him. Illumi tipped the last of the bottle down his throat before dropping the empty bottle unceremoniously on the carpet of Hisoka’s bedroom.

“Tsk Illumi your gonna stain my rug,” Hisoka shoves Illumi onto his light pink bed spread.

“Nggh,” is all Illumi can say. His brain feels like mush and his parent’s words about never letting down your guard are ringing in his ears. But for the first time In forever he ignores those voices. Its so cozy here and the mush of his brain feels fuzzy and warm. Drunken thoughts float through his mind and they aren’t exactly happy thoughts. Though he feels cozy and warm he also feels a pain of sorrow in his chest. For the first time in a long time Illumi lets his guard down. Its scares Illumi to know how defenseless he is right now but he can’t find the energy to care.

Illumi looks so pretty. Flawless black hair draped across the bed. Deep dark eyes framed with beautiful lashes. Lips parted and dainty. Illumi is a beauty and Hisoka wants him all for himself.

Illumi forgets where he is as increasingly emotional thoughts swirling in his mind. He isn’t really there, he is in his own world away from anyone else.

Suddenly Hisoka is ontop, and Illumi can’t move. Lips and teeth attacking Illumi’s neck. Hands are fumbling at his hips, trying to slip beneath his shirt. Hips grinding into his thigh. And Illumi can’t move. His head is spinning trying to understand the situation. Is this something bad? Does Illumi need to protect himself? Why is he hesitating to attack Hisoka? Hisoka isn’t hurting him. But then why is Illumi panicking? Why does he want to scream? Why can’t he make a sound? Why does this feel so wrong? Why is it that for the first time in years, Illumi feels tears welling in his eyes.

Hisoka has thrown caution to the wind and decided to go for what he wants. If Illumi really doesn’t want this, he is strong enough to stop it, Hisoka reasons.

Illumi has been completely unresponsive. After a few minutes of making out with Illumi’s limp body Hisoka gets annoyed, he’s never been one for pillow princesses. Hisoka lifts off Illumi to see his face, intending to scold the pretty man for being such a lousy toy. But it is in that moment that Hisoka realizes something is very wrong. Illumi’s is motionless, dead eyes wide and unfocused, lips limply parted in a silent scream. Illumi’s whole déminer is wrong. But what scares Hisoka most are the tears that have started flowing down Illumi’s temples.

“Illumi?”, Hisoka asks hesitantly. Oh fuck, he had underestimated how defenseless Illumi had been. It was clear Illumi hadn’t enjoyed any of that. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

It takes a moment for Illumi to realises that Hisoka’s weight is no longer pinning him down. His vision had gone dark sometime in the past few minutes and is coming back, slowly, fuzzy. Illumi lays motionless trying to process what the fuck just happened.

“H-Hisoka?” Illumi stutters. “Whats happening.” Dirty, Illumi feels dirty.

“Hisoka, Hisoka”, Illumi slurs. He can still feel the ghost of Hisoka’s invasions.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here Illumi, its just me.” Hisoka breaths a sigh of relief. To soon.

“You are strange Hisoka… you have sex just to feel good.” And with that Illumi moves for the first time. Tears streaming, expression unreadable, he curls up on his side hiding his now exposed chest, and promptly falls asleep.

“Fuck” Hisoka groans. He knows he messed up really fucking bad and he knows he hurt Illumi. What scares him most is the innocence in Illumi’s words. They didn’t sound like the words of a grown man, drunk or otherwise.

Hisoka hopes Illumi was too drunk to remember.

That night Illumi learns that there is a type of torture he was not trained to cope with.

And Hisoka learned that a lack of ‘No’ doesn’t mean a ‘Yes’.

AN PLEASE READ: Hisoka reasons that Illumi would have been able to stop him. This is a dangerous way to think. Research shows many Sexual Assaults happen with the victim completely silent and/or showing no signs of a fight. This is especially true with neurodivergent people and/or those with cognitive or physical disabilities. Lack of a struggle does NOT mean consent. Consent should always be freely given, clear, and eager.