#( THIS LOOK IS THE BEST LOOK OF THE WHOLE SAGA !! )

[gareleia]

THE KNITTING SAGA BUT MAKE IT SAD

update: my co-writer friend FINALLY got a tumblr account, so I can tag them now!!

previously: part 1 part 2

next: part 4 part 5

lets talk about relationships, shall we. i'm gonna focus on Athena & Telemachus this time, but Hermes will have his turn later

let's be real, Athena is a hardass. sure, she cares, but she's so emotionally constipated that it really doesn't show that much. especially before she goes through that character development arc after her break up with Odysseus in My Goodbye

(and what a crisis that is)

(because her masterpiece??? failed her??? but she trusted him??? she made him much as in her image as possible??? he was supposed to be perfect???)

(and if he's not perfect, then she failed,,, and she can't fail, she doesn't fail,,, she's a goddess,,, war strategy is her domain, surely there is no way her plan could be flawed,,,)

(what even is the point of her if she's not perfect)

so yeah, she's a hardass. even on baby Telemachus who'd never held a sword before - especially on baby Telemachus, because he's the son of her favored Champion. he may be waaay younger than any of her previous pupils, but she's expecting him to shine just as bright.

Athena, on the first day: let's get down to business! make your father proud! you won't have a weakness! by the time we're done! you're the saddest pupil that I've had! and you haven't got a clue! but I will make a man outta you! Telemachus, a literal toddler, holding a wooden sword as big as himself: ٩(๑❛ᴗ❛๑)۶

and for years to come she trains him relentlessly. she's honestly trying to be nice about it, too. it's just that Athena doesn't do soft or gentle, her default is a neutral face of displeasure, and her idea of encouragement is saying 'you're not as bad as you used to be', or something along these lines.

Telemachus: *succeeds at something* Athena: *raises an eyebrow in a slightly different manner than usually* Telemachus: *le gasp* could it b-be? am I doing a good job??? Athena: it's… acceptable, for your age.

she never once tells him she is proud of him. because surely he already knows. he doesn't need to hear it. his father didn't, after all (ody so fucking did)

and this goes on until Telemachus reaches double digits. then My Goodbye happens, and Athena has Feelings™. she's having an existential crisis, and has to confront the fact that she had done something wrong while training Odysseus, and she can't understand what. which is terrifying, because what if she makes a mistake like that with Telemachus. will he fail her too?

will she have to leave him too, so she doesn't watch him die horribly in a tragedy that could've been prevented if only she had made him see-

so Athena doubles down and starts demanding more and more from Telemachus. the praise goes from sparse to non-existent, and nothing he does seems to be enough anymore. she goes from tough love to borderline verbal abuse, thinking that it's the only way to keep him safe and prepare him for the future.

and Telemachus endures. he has to, because he doesn't want his mother to worry. doesn't want to appear weak. Odysseus had done it, so it's only fair his son should too. and when his dad comes home, he'll be sooo impressed. he can do it!

except…. not really. it's been a losing battle since the beginning, and deep down he knows it. he can't win with Athena, not on his own.

???: if you want to impress her, you'll need the blessing of a certain god! divine intervention! someone who's not afraid to- telemachus: aeolus, what are doing in my closet?!

so anyway, Aeolus and the winions start helping him via winds and stuff, and Telemachus actually starts exceeding everyone's expectations. it's not that he'd been bad before, but he's soft, and not quite strong enough physically to make up for his gentle constitution

everyone is cheering him on. he's the talk of the palace! his mom is so proud! the suitors start sizing him up with consideration instead of dismissing him outright! (and tele, baby, that's not a good thing! ಠ_ಠ). Athena seems pleased for the first time in ages!! but he knows that it's all a lie, and it's killing him.

cause he's a good, honest boye, and he wants to succeed on his own merit, not because of cheating and lying to everyone he loves. that's vile and dishonorable.

que some very important island-wide competition that everyone is expecting him to join and win. maybe it's even his duty as a prince. like, a right of passage from complete boyhood to adolescence.

and there's,,, a lot of pressure on Telemachus to suceed. everyone and their mother are telling him that of course he's got this, he's a prodigy! def his father's son! nobody doubts his incoming victory! he's got this! he definitely won't disappoint them!

random noble: we'll be cheering you on, young prince! truly, we are blessed by the gods to have such a talented successor to the throne! we'll watch with keen eyes as you triumph over your foes and bring even more honor to your family! b(￣▽￣*) telemachus, eye twitching: y-yeah… thank you… (ㆆ _ ㆆ)

so, the night before the competition Telemachus can barely sleep, he's so wrecked by guilt and nerves. he keeps thinking - what would his father do in this situation? all the stories he'd ever heard of Odysseus always painted him as some kind of invincible, righteous, all-capable genius. so the idea of his dad ever grappling with guilt and feelings of inadequacy is just laughable. (oh, if only he knew)

so, he goes to his mom for advice. because Penelope is awesome. but he can't bring himself to admit that's he's cheating - what if she's ashamed of him? he brought dishonor to his father's name, and if anyone knows - will he get exiled?

so yeah, he basically has a panic attack and cries for like, half an hour straight.

telemachus, bawling: if I lose tomorrow, will you hate me? will dad hate me? I can't do anything right and I'm a failure and a horrible person and- just- what do I do, mother? penelope, holding him: oh, love. sometimes you're so similar to your father I wonder if the gods haven't returned him to me in spirit through you.

because no matter what everyone else says, Penelope knows the truth - Odysseus always followed his heart. oh, how he may have tried to forget he had one, to only ever use his head. but a heart he did have - does have, they have to believe that - and it's a bright and gentle one. he may have been hardened by years of pain and struggle in a way that Telemachus hadn't been yet (and Penelope's heart breaks from knowledge that her son will be, one day). but deep down, at ther cores, Odysseus and Telemachus are strikingly similar. and she loves them all the more for it.

and so, with his mother's blessing, the young prince does just as she told him to: follows his heart. he thanks Aeolus for their help, and asks them to stop giving it from now on. either he'll suceed on his own merit, or he'll wear his failure as a badge of honor and an incentive to do better.

and he loses. badly.

and the world,,, doesn't end? sure, the suitors sneer and jeer, but there's a surprising lack of disowning and exile going around. and the nobles tone it down significantly with undeserved adoration, which is definitely a plus, as far as he's concerned.

the only thing is. Athena.

oh boy.

because she's not stupid. Telemachus may have gotten away with cheating so far, but now he'll have to answer to her why he had flunked so badly, and she won't buy his go-to excuse of 'I got nervous!'

athena, expression unreadable: so. care to explain yourself, my stupid pupil? telemachus: w-well, you see… ha-ha… it's, uh… a funny story… athena: you threw away your best advantage! you've had a god perfectly willing to assist you and yet you still somehow managed to lose! telemachus: wait, what-

so yeah, Athena knew all along.

athena, mildly insulted: how stupid do you think I am, boy? telemachus: but! but! but!.. you never said anything! didn't even scold me for cheating! athena, even more insulted: child, I am the goddess of war strategy, where did you get the idea that I ever play fair and straightforward? leave that to ares, the simple-minded fool!

to clarify, she's not upset at him for cheating. she's upset that he stopped doing so. so she throws some choice words at him, implying he lacks both talent and intelligence

and Telemachus defends himself by saying that he'd rather fail on his own merit, than abandon his principles and win by lying and dishonoring his family. in response, she calls him naive.

he tries to implore to her connection to his father by saying that he was just trying to do what's right. he was following his heart, just as Odysseus had always strived to. and he's training to fight for his loved ones, not for glory of being known.

it's a one hit K.O., because it reminds Athena of her recent break-up with Odysseus. of everything they spat at each other during My Goodbye. of anger, of hurt, of disappointment, of betrayal, of I loved you and you failed me, of I loved you and I failed you, of good riddance! and y̶͈̔o̴̘̖͆u̶̻̱͆͒'̸̫̩̌̉r̷̼͝e̴̩̒ ̴͎̻̈́̎ȧ̸̦l̵̗͙͌̐o̸͚͕̚n̷̟̯͠e̵̳̩͠

and is their whole line just cursed? is this their way of punishing her for something? why do they both hurt her so? is it her fault?

telemachus: athena? are… are you okay? (‘-’*) athena, coming off MG flashbacks: well, obviously, boy, why would you even ask that (ಥ﹏ಥ)

Telemachus just hugs her, because she obviously needs it. and she melts into it like never before.

because she wasn't made for empathy or kindness. she's been born to be ruthless and cold. she's not supposed to love and be loved care about anything but winning. it doesn't come natural to Athena, until recently she had truly thought herself unable to, and yet-

yet here, right in front of her, is a boy who loves for the both of them. loves the whole world - sincerely, selflessly. a truly kind and caring soul (the nobles even joke that his true father is Polites).

she can't love.

but maybe… maybe he will teach her.

maybe he already did.

or maybe she always could.

she forgets sometimes, that her fingers know not only the roughness of swords and spears, but also the gentle softness of weaved silk. creation goes hand in hand with destruction, and she can bind countless threads together without breaking them.

and what are humans, if not strings, waiting to be cut by the fates?

also, if Telemachus can teach the goddess of cold cynicism and detached cruelty kindness of all things, then she can teach him swordplay.

yes, it's a threat.

[alessandramortt]

cannot believe the thing that finally gets me to romantically ship furymax is, of all things, my issues with furyjack sjdhskdjd so on brand for me tho

[aeide-thea]

still picking my way thru s3 of the witcher episode by agonizing episode but it's going SO slowly bc every time i watch one it's just like. right. this show is a B movie now and not in a good way

[scarletspider2the2ndpower]

“Into the Grave: Part 1,” Scarlet Spider (Vol. 2/2012), #21.

Writers: Christopher Yost and Erik Burnham; Pencilers: Carlo Barberi and David Baldeón; Inkers: Terry Pallot and Victor Olazaba; Colorist: Chris Sotomayor; Letterer: Joe Caramagna

[moe-broey]

I am...... getting A Little nostalgic for Stardew Valley........ but I know it is SUCH a commitment like if I get back into that shit I'm blacking out for a month. I Cannot Allow It

[solarecliipse]

RUDE !

akaashi, atsumu, kageyama, kuroo, ushijima x reader (separately). wrote this while at work so probably a bit messy! not proofread at all.

akaashi is nervous, like this whole week he’s been thinking about how he wants this day to go, and before showing up he buys a bouquet for your mom and a bottle for your dad, he also has a little keychain for you. so when he knocks he expects you to open, but it’s your dad who opens, looks at him and simply states you’re still getting ready before letting him inside, you go down to them sitting silently, your father looking directly at keiji, and you boyfriend looking anywhere else. you see, it’s not that he doesn’t like him, he just still feels weird about the fact his little girl has a boyfriend.

atsumu is nervous but won’t admit it, at least not to you —he would act all nonchalant and would just talk about it if you ask—, however osamu hasn’t stop listening to him asking how he should act, in the end he makes some shoyu ramen for atsumu to take your home in the condition he will stop talking to him about it. so when atsumu shows up with a casserole and a t-shirt that still has the tag you can’t help but laugh a little, making him more nervous and self-conscious. it ends well, and you mom congratulates the ramen.

kageyama somehow naturally managed to be liked by your dad, like yes, on the first moment they both were skeptical, tobio horridly worried your dad would kick him out or something, but after you leave them for a second to go put the table they’re suddenly the best of friends over some stupid movie saga. tobio hasn’t even actually watched it, he just knows because his grandpa liked it, and now he’s even ignoring you to keep the discussion up with your dad.

kuroo is confident your parents will like him, and he’s right, your mom does tell you he has a weird hairstyle and your dad bonds with him over volleyball, but your little brother, oh, he hates him, when kuroo greets him with a “hey buddy” your brother just shrugs and gets closer to you, even grunting when kuroo kisses your cheek, and when he finally says something to him it’s a “you seem like a bad boyfriend… what was your name again?” just because you let kuroo take the last dumpling. at the end of the night he finally turns to kuroo and says “ok, you can date y/n, but fix your hairstyle”, and kuroo somehow feels relieved.

ushijima seems unfazed, and you think he is until he asks you if you think your parents will like him, you reassure him, and then he asks about your siblings, and you don’t know what to say, because your sister will be alright, but your brother? and of course when he knocks your brother ir the one that opens, looks at him and instantly closes the door, them ushijima can hear a scream of “tooru!” and “ouch!” before you open the door. he spends the whole night giving him the stinky eye, but ushijima is usually too focused on you and your parents to find out. at the end of the night he puts his hand between your and ushijima’s mouth before closing the door once again, and ushijima hears the same scene inside before you open and give him a quick peck.

[satorusugurugurl]

I Think He Knows

Summary: When your novel takes off and becomes a best seller, doors of opportunities open for you. You can work on the series you have dreamed about all your life. And you’re also given the chance to stay in a tiny cottage in Europe for two years to help with inspiration! Your best friend, Geto Suguru, shatters at the news. How could he possibly tell you how he feels when you’re leaving him? His opportunity appears right before him when you confess that your editor thinks a change of scenery will help with your not-so-steamy romance scenes. They’re lacking a particular spice because you’re a virgin. So, Suguru does what any best friend would do. He offers to teach you how things work. Will you cross that line as friends? Or will you both say goodbye?

Pairing: Geto Suguru x FAB!Reader

Word Count: 4,505

Warning: Language, suggestiveness, mentions of sex, mentions of death, depression, insomina

A/N: BestFriend!Suguru series is now our Saturday special!! Let’s goooooo!!! 😈💚

Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven Part Tweleve

Fifteen years ago, you and your family moved to Tokyo from the countryside due to your father’s job. You were so nervous, walking into your kindergarten class and holding your bag as your homeroom teacher introduced you to your new classmates. Everyone stared at you as you were ushered towards a table with two boys. One stuck his tongue out at you while the other colored with crayons.

“Oooh.” You said in awe, looking at the picture the dark-haired boy was coloring. “That’s pretty! Did you draw that?”

The crayon stopped moving as the dark-haired boy looked up at you for the first time. His dark eyes widened as he looked you over, a rosy flush dusting his cheeks. “I uhm,” his eyes darted back towards the paper, “yeah, I drew it.” You leaned in, your eyes sparkling in awe, as your classmate sucked in a deep breath as you got closer.

“So pretty!”

Swallowing hard, the boy continued coloring. “I-If you want it, you can have it when I’m done.” His voice is so timid that you almost don’t hear it.

“Eh?! Really!?” You smile, revealing a missing tooth. “Thank you—uhm, what’s your name?”

“G-Geto.”

“Thank you, Geto!”

“You’re welcome.”

That day marked the beginning of your friendship with Geto Suguru! You two have been inseparable ever since that day. You were having play dates and attending the same middle school, high school, and college! You even lived in the same apartment complex, just two floors separating you.

Suguru never once gave up on his passion for drawing, trading his crayons and construction paper for oil paint and canvas. You didn’t have an artistic bone in your body. You did, however, have a way with words. You were constantly losing yourself in characters you'd create and worlds you built, and you never thought of sharing them with the world until Suguru pushed you to do so.

You took his advice and submitted your novel to several writing competitions, not expecting anything to come from it. Boy, were you shocked when you won first place and were allowed to publish your novel! The publishing company loved the story, your characters, and the premise of it, so much so that they signed you on for a whole saga.

That was great! Your characters would finally be given the chance to shine. Their stories would be told! There was just one issue that you kept running into while working on the sequel. Your high-end fantasy novel was a romance between the princess of your series and her knight. You ended the first book with a very intimate kiss and confession. The whole purpose was to have readers wanting more, and they wanted more.

Your reader wanted more Ilaus and Oaklynn, more kisses, sweet whispers of nothing, and steamy smut. The readers wanted to see the lovely, innocent princess and her hot knight getting freaky. Which you were all down for! You wanted them to get to that point as much as your readers! You wanted Oaklynn to be face down getting plowed by Ilaus more than anyone else! You had written their story and made them suffer; they deserved to be happy with each other.

So why was writing sex scenes your kryptonite?!

You anxiously watched Nanami Kento, your beta reader and editor, scroll through your phone and read the latest pages you had written. His face was stoic, unreadable as his eyes glimpsed over the screen. Your leg bounced as he put your phone down, his eyes focusing on his mug before he sighed.

“Oh my god, you hate it.” Anxiety settled in your gut. “It’s terrible! I knew it sucked.”

Nanami winced, his eyes not meeting yours, and he brought his mug to his mouth and took a sip. “Why did you call his penis ‘his raging meat stick’? Like it was a slab of salami?” Your friend watched you slam your head gently against the table. “And for her, you called it her fairy cave?” This time, your friend didn't wince; no, the bastard chuckled.

“This isn't funny, Nanami!”

“I know,” he took another sip, “look, it's not bad; I just think if you're going to write a sex scene, you need to refer to the genitals as genitals and not lunch meat and damp mystical caves.”

“L-Like use the word penis?”

“Or cock, dick, not meat stick.”

“Shh!!” you reached over the table, covering his mouth with your hands. “We're out in public!!”

Nanami pulled back away from your hands. “Oh please, we know Gojo and Sukuna. They are more foul than that.” He had a point; the two could make grandmothers cry with their colorful vocabulary.

The first half of your novel was easy to write—lots of action, passionate kisses, and dialogue. The middle had hit you with a brick of writer's block. This was your first time writing anything remotely spicy other than making out with tongue. The scene you were stuck on right now wasn’t even a full-on sex scene! That made it so much worse! They were pleasing each other in a tent with just their hands! It's a simple mutual masturbation scene.

But using a meat stick and a fairy cave would not cut it. And the next couple of chapters were due to your agent in a week. If Nanami pretty much flat-out told you these scenes sucked, there was no way in hell you would be turning this in to your agent.

“Fuck, Nanami, what am I going to do?”

“Scrape it and rewrite it.” Feeling your gaze on his, Nanami breathed out a breathy huff. “Look, it's not terrible, trust me; I know you're capable of more.” Your trusted friend chuckled as you puffed out your cheeks.

“Oh yeah, scrape it; maybe I'll use a hot dog instead of a meat stick this time.” What were you going to do?! There was a week to turn the poorly excused terrible smut you'd written into something that would please Nanami, your agent, and the publisher.

Nanami patted your shoulder as he collected his stuff. “You know, sometimes our own experiences can help.” Great, now you were frustrated and a blushing mess!

“I-I can't do that!”

“Well, then read some erotic novels for inspiration if you have any questions if you don't want to use your personal sexual experiences.”

“That’s not what I me—”

“Look, let's meet on Tuesday for lunch, and you can show me what you have then. I gotta run to class; I’ll see you then.”

With a heavy heart, you watched your friend rush out of the café and return to Campus. Nanami was full of good ideas. Using one's own experiences was a good muse. It was something you would do if you had any experience. The number one reason you had so many issues writing smut seems like this was because you were a complete and total virgin.

That was the sole reason why writing sex scenes was your kryptonite. Because you had zero experience, writing about something you had no experience in was hard. So Nanami’s advice, while appreciated, was utterly useless. You had no experience, and there was no way you were hooking up with some random person to inspire you.

Oh well, you had a lovely long week to try and fix the monstrosity you had created. It wasn't like your agent would call you out of the blue! Yeah, you had a week! A week! It was all good!

A bag slammed on the table as you packed your laptop and notepad. With a squeak and a jump, you turned to see your agent staring down at you—a look of dismay and stress plastered over her face.

“U-Utahime?” Her expression remained the same as she adjusted her baseball hat. “H-Hi, what's up?”

“Meat stick?”

“Fuuuck.” you cried out, throwing your head back.

“I come in to give you good news, and I hear that Nanami is saying you're struggling with the sex scenes?” She sips her coffee anxiously, her foot tapping against the tile floor. “You told me it was a romance? And you can't write sex scenes?!”

You hushed her, standing up and putting your index finger against your lips. “Shut up! Please! I'm working on it; I'm just struggling!” Utahime laughs, crossing her arms over her chest. “I'll fix it! I promise you’ll have a super spicy mutual touching session by next week!” she gives you a skeptical look, one you're pretty sure was on your face as well. “B-But what good news do you have?” Your agent and friend relaxes as she grins.

“You know that cottage that you saw online? The one in Europe that inspired your book?”

“The one that I can't find? Yeah, I know it.”

When you graduated high school, you and Suguru had stopped at a bookstore while shopping for supplies. You were grazing through pictures of European castles when you saw this darling little cottage. It looked similar to the cottage in Sleeping Beauty. It was made of stone in the woods beside a river where a water mill ran.

The cottage was gorgeous; it got your creative juices flowing. You imagined characters living there, and it was honestly the inspiration for your book. You desperately searched for it. Wanting to learn more about the cottage that had inspired your fantasy world, you couldn't find a lick of evidence. You had been under the assumption that it was either destroyed or didn't even exist. So you had given up on finding it two years ago.

“Well, your lovely agent made a few calls and sent out some photos, and she found it.”

“Shut up bitch.” Utahime just smirked, pulling out her phone. “Oh my god, oh god! Are you serious?!” Her phone slid across the table, the screen illuminated by the cottage that inspired your novel. “Ahh! Oh my god!”

“I also got in touch with the owners of the cottage. And when I told them a best-selling novelist was in love with their cottage, which they just so happen to rent out, they offered for you to stay there.”

“Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my god!”

“Maybe staying here will get your creativity flowing! Help you with the next few novels.”

Your body was vibrating in excitement. “Oh my god, yes! A week here would be great!” A low ‘uhm’ from across from you drew your attention from the phone to your agent. “Or a weekend?” she shook her head.

“They offered it to you for longer than that.”

“Seriously? How long are we talking?”

Utahime’s smile was wide and warm. “You’re gonna need a few bags.”

The second you left the coffee shop with a coffee in one hand and a brown paper bag in the other, you bolted down the street. Your meeting with Utahime went so well! You couldn’t wait to tell Suguru all about it. By the time you reached the apartment complex and his door on the third floor, you were panting.

Glancing at the handle, you luckily didn’t find a tie on it, meaning he didn’t bring home some chick, so it was safe for you to come in if you wanted. He did that for you after you walked in on him eating some bimbo out on the kitchen counter. Knowing it was safe, you unlocked the door with your spare key and headed inside.

The smell of paint was strong, meaning Suguru was in the zone and probably had been for hours. Meaning he hadn’t eaten. He was so lucky to have you as his best friend in the whole world, or the man would have starved.

“Suguru~!” Stepping through the apartment, you followed the sound of alternative music toward the spare room, which he’d turned into his makeshift studio. Stepping inside, you didn't find him, but his easel had a new canvas.

Quickly rushing forward, you stared at it, and your heart sank. Suguru had sketched out an aquarium, the base colors down, and a girl stood in front of the tank. The colors hadn’t been placed on her, but you knew who she was from the ruffled sun dress she wore to the braid that cascaded down her back.

“Riko.” Her name tore at your heart as you reached out to touch the sketch of the girl who had been taken far too soon.

Before you could touch the canvas, a creaking floorboard had you pulling away, rushing far for the easel. Your best friend walked in, a fresh mug of water in his hand, while he scrolled through his phone in the other.

God, how he had changed in the fifteen years you’d been together. His hair was longer, pulled in a bun; his bangs hung in his face. Suguru’s left arm was inked with a dragon; it swirled around the head of it tattooed on his shoulder. His lip was pierced along with the cartridge of his ears, and he was wearing his black gauges. That boy you met in class was now a man who was shirtless and covered in paint.

Suguru finally looked up; seeing you standing there startled him, causing him to spill water on the floor. “Fuckin’ hell!” He yelled, putting the mug down to grab the edge of his tables covered with tubes of paint. “You little fuckin’ shit.” His words held no heat as you placed his food and coffee down.

“Oh please, you’d starve without me. I tried calling you when I came in.”

“I was in the kitchen.”

“No, you weren’t.” You sat on the table inches from where Suguru stood. “I walked through there; you sneaking a girl down the fire escape? Not wanting me to catch you doing something indecent again?”

There was always a playful, teasing tone between the two of you. Especially now that you were older and he was a man whore. His dark eyes narrowed as he grinned, slotting between your legs as he sipped coffee.

His eyes trailed over you. “Why would you be jealous if I was?” You shook your head as he pushed your hair back. “Damn, I was just talking to Satoru.” Suguru rolled his eyes as you whistled. “You would like.” He ruffled the top of your head.

“Nah~ I’ve seen you go down on a girl.” He opened his mouth again. “And no, I’m not jealous; I just don’t wanna see you going at it.”

“Yeah, he said we’re all going out tonight; something about that sushi train place.” He pulled out the sandwich you brought him, taking a bite. “Said we had to celebrate.”

“Oh, we do.” Suguru swallowed the mouthful of food. “Because I got some great news today.”

“Really? Did Nanami like your new pages?” He stepped away, grabbing the mug of clean water as he stepped back in front of the canvas.

“Well, no, but that’s a whole other situation.” The excitement buzzing in your chest could no longer be held in. “Utahime found the cottage!”

Suguru perked up, knowing exactly what you were talking about. “Shut the fuck up, she did, where?!” He’d helped you search for your inspiration for hours; he knew how badly you wanted to go there.

“It’s in a wooded area in England. Super pretty! The owners have read my book and offered to let me stay there!”

“Well, that’s gre—”

“For the next two years!!”

Glass shattered, leaving both you and Suguru in stunned silence. Your best friend was pale, the color leaving his cheeks. His eyes were distant as you looked down, seeing the water spreading over the floorboard, sliding under Suguru’s bare feet.

You were the first to move, not to pick up the glass but to grab Suguru’s face gently. He was as still as a rock; he only got like that when he had flashbacks to that night. Seeing that he was painting Riko must have meant he was stuck in that moment from your second year of high school.

He shut his eyes tight, leaning into your touch, cluing you in. It wasn’t a flashback. He took a deep breath before lifting you, putting you off to the side, away from the glass. Something wasn’t right with Suguru; you knew it from his lingering touch and the lack of light in his eyes.

“What time did you get up?” You asked as you bent down, helping him pick up shards of glass.

“Are you going to leave?”

“I asked you a question first. What time did you get up?”

“Three this morning. Are you leaving?”

Peering up, you found his eyes focused solely on you. “I’m uhm—I’m waiting for Utahime to contact the owners.” He gritted his teeth, his eyes returning to the glass on the floor. “It’s not set in stone yet, Suguru.” You gently nudged his hand with yours; those words had him relaxing a bit, like relief was washing over him. “Why were you up at three?” He stood up, tossing the broken glass in the trash.

“Nightmares.”

“About Riko?”

Riko Amanai was a person Suguru didn’t like talking about. He went to therapy for what happened, but her death left a mark on him that probably would never heal. He had his good months and his bad months. Between the canvas and the nightmares, you knew he was going to have a hard time this month.

You didn’t push him; you hated to pry that part of his life. That didn’t mean you weren’t there for him, though. If he wanted to talk to you, your door was always open. There had been many nights when he would show up and ask to stay in bed with you. Those were the nights when nightmares were too much to handle when he had too much on his mind. Those were the nights you both stayed up, talking about life, your novel, or his work. They were also the nights you both fell asleep in each other‘s arms and got some of the best sleep of your lives.

“Suguru—?”

“I’m going to grab the broom. Just stay here.” Suguru grabs a white sheet and covers his newest canvas up before heading out of his room towards the kitchen.

Great, you just had to go prying into his trauma. What the hell is wrong with you? He would’ve talked about it with you if he wanted to talk about it. It was wrong to dig into what was happening in his mind. You worried so much about him, and sometimes you forgot you had no right to question him.

Despite your prying and prodding questions, Suguru was still warm to you. He wrapped an arm around you and plopped down on the couch with you while he finished eating breakfast and drinking coffee. He showed you some of the paints he wanted to get the next time he dragged you to the art store. Suguru acted like everything was normal when you both knew it wasn’t.

He was masking; he often did when he didn’t want to talk about what was going on in his mind. Or when he didn’t want to worry you. You could easily see through his façade, but you weren’t about to ruin the rest of his day with your questions. You lay there on the couch with him, listening to him talk about his paints and the commissions that he had received.

The mundane conversations lasted until four o’clock. The two of you freshened up before heading downtown to meet your other friends for your not-so-celebratory dinner. Satoru had invited almost everyone you knew. Nanami, Shoko, Sukuna, Haibara, and Yuki cheered when you two entered.

You were pulled towards the bar by Shoko and Yuki, who squealed over how lucky you were to have found your cottage. Suguru snatched a beer from the bucket on the table, chugging it as he sat beside Satoru. The white-haired man hissed out a sigh, his arm wrapping over Suguru’s shoulder as the two watched you closely.

“I can’t believe they offered her to stay there for two years.” Satoru purred out. “Like fuck, it’ll be weird not having her here.”

“Please shut the fuck up.”

Satoru pulled his dark sunglasses off, glaring at his best friend. “Who pissed in your cereal?” He paused, pursing his lips together. “Oh right, the girl you love is leaving you. I have an idea; tell her how you feel!” A handful of gyoza is shoved into Satoru’s mouth.

“I can’t. You know I can’t.” Nanami glanced at the two before him, gulping down his beer. ���If I tell her, it’ll be like I’m holding her back. I can’t do that.” As he steals another glance at you, confusion, doubt, and anxiety settle in Suguru’s stomach. “If she wants to go, she can go.”

Thankfully, after his little rant, the conversation drifted from you and focused on school. The whole night, no one brought up the cottage, nor you leaving yet. As you assure them, nothing is set in stone yet, but finding out where your inspiration was was enough to drink to.

The happiness that seemed to radiate off you made Suguru feel bittersweet over the whole situation. He was happy for you. He knew how much finding that cottage. He spent his free time looking into it for you. But he could never find anything. He desperately didn’t want to go either. You were his best friend. You had been for fifteen years, and he was utterly in love with you, but he didn’t want to cross that line.

Now that there was a possibility that you would be leaving, he regretted all the chances he had to cross that line, and he never took it. That’s why he slept with so many girls who shared attributes similar to yours. Some of them had your eyes, others had your hair color, and there were just some of them that looked similar to you. It was a way to cope with being unable to tell you how he felt. But at least he didn’t ruin your friendship.

Between the lack of sleep and the new fear of losing you, Suguru needed something more potent than beer. He shimmed over to the bar, ruffling your hair as he passed you. As he leaned over the bar, waiting for his drink, Nanami squeezed in next to him.

“I think I know why she might be leaving.”

“Huh?” Suguru’s pierced brow lifted in confusion. “Why would there be a reason for her to leave? She’s always wanted to go to that cottage.”

“She offered to stay there to help with her writing. I may have called Utahime and given her a heads up about the pages I read today.” Nanami sipped his drink. “We both agreed that change of scenery might help with her writing.”

“The fuck do you mean?” A twinge of anger flashed over Suguru’s face. “Her writing is the best. There’s nothing for her to work on. She got published, for God's sake.”

Nanami chuckled nervously. “There’s no doubt that she’s a talented writer. While her dialogue and kissing scenes and her world-building are superior to other authors, I’ve read for. Her romance scenes are atrocious.” When Nanami saw the look of bewilderment on Suguru’s face, he nodded. “By romance, I mean sex scenes.”

“Well, she’s never had a boyfriend; I don’t think she’s even kissed someone.” Nanami makes a humming sound of understanding as a revelation overcomes Suguru. “Do you think if her sex scenes get better, she might now want to leave for as long as she said?”

“Maybe. But it’ll take a miracle for her sex scenes to improve.”

A miracle that Suguru was willing to provide. If he could help you, maybe, just maybe, you might consider staying if you’re given a chance to leave. And if he’s lucky, perhaps he would finally find the strength to tell you how he felt. Downing his drink, he rushed back to the table, grabbing your hand.

“Hey, can I talk to you?”

Your eyes glitter, making Suguru’s heart thunder. “Sure!” He drags you through the crowded restaurant, pulling you outside towards the alley. “What’s up?” God, you look so pretty with flushed cheeks.

“Nanami told me about the sex scenes”

“That traitor!” You pout, tilting your head back with a grumble. “Fine, go ahead and make fun of my usage of deli meat for describing genitalia.” The teasing never comes. Instead, Suguru's musky, earthy smell crowds you as he slams his hands on either side of your head. “S-Sugu?”

“I have a proposition.” His voice purrs out, making your heart race spike. “You’re struggling with the sex scenes. That’s why you’re thinking of leaving, right?”

“Y-yeah, and?”

“What if I help you? If your sex scenes get better, do you think you might not need to leave for two years?”

Heat begins to fill the tiny space between your bodies. You feel your exhaled air mingling with the others. Fuck was it the alcohol?

“I-I mean, maybe I wouldn’t need to leave for so long. Maybe just a week.” There’s a gleam in your best friend's eyes. “But how are you going to help me?” His mouth inches closer, and you can feel the heat as he leaves an inch away from your lips.

“I can teach you.”

(TBC)

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe

[shootingstarpilot]

Do you have any advice for writing Mace Windu?

Hello friend! I've been sitting on this for a while, because everyone's got their own interpretations, but mine is based on an idea I was struggling to put words to.

(Caveat that I have not read Legends material, that people can write what they like, etc. etc.)

The way I see it, Lucas specializes in writing stories in terms of themes and archetypes. This is why certain dialogue choices or the development of certain relationships can be... clunky, let's go with that. Characters (Obi-Wan and Anakin fall into their own category, sure) are written primarily as archetypes. You have Yoda as the wise old sage, Sidious as the ultimate evil-

And Mace Windu as the ultimate good.

We see this in the Chancellor's office, right? During the final showdown. This is the moment where Anakin makes his choice- stay in the Light or Fall- and the characters visually representing that choice are Palpatine and Mace. He's the Master of the Order. He's raised a Padawan who sits on the Council with him. He's an incredibly skilled swordsman- hell, his fighting style of choice (Vaapad) epitomizes how clearly he's mastered the art of internal balance!

All of that to say- his whole character is built around the idea that he is the Good Guy. That would be the one piece of writing advice I would give. If you're wondering how to write him, start with that idea- that he is written to represent the absolute opposite of Sidious. He's the ultimate good. He is the illuminating Light to Sidious' corrupting Dark. This is why antagonistic portrayals of him never ring true to me- they're coming from a foundational understanding that I simply do not subscribe to. It reeks of a fundamental misunderstanding of his character and of the whole saga's themes.

(And also racism. I'd be remiss if I didn't mention the racism that too often plays a significant role.)

All of that being said, what might it look like to write from the foundation of Mace being the representation of ultimate good? The good thing about characters being written as archetypes is that it gives us fans a significant amount of freedom in determining what those characters look like when they're written as characters. Different people will have different takes, but for me:

Well, first off- he's the epitome of a Jedi. So all of what that entails- he is fundamentally kind, fundamentally compassionate, and fundamentally in control of himself.

He's funny. I think he has a very dry sense of humor, and that he finds joy in the smallest things.

He loves so much. He loves his Padawan, he loves his friends, he loves his family, he loves the Republic- he loves the galaxy enough to go to war for it, and he loves the men who'll kill his people.

There will never be a situation where he has the capacity to help and chooses not to.

And last but not least, I choose to believe that this man can bake pastries with the best of them. In my heart of hearts, he's a stress baker, and he mends his socks with purple thread.

Hope this helps!

[feeder86]

Feeder 86: The Top Ten

Can you believe that the Feeder86 ‘Orginal Gainer Stories’ blog will soon be posting the two hundredth story? I thought of many ways to celebrate. But then I stopped and realised that I would probably be best using the time to address one of the questions I get asked about most frequently. Which of the stories do I personally like the most?

This was not an easy list to make as I very rarely go back to re-read my own work after I have finished editing and posting them. This is not because I do not like them, but because I always see bits that I want to change. Nevertheless, this project was the perfect opportunity to revisit a few oldies that I remember being very proud of at the time. 

Hopefully you will see this list for what it is: a glimpse into how I write, my motivations and drive; rather than just a self indulgent pat on the back for myself. Yuck!

So, with that being said, let us begin...

#10 The Feeders’ Formula: This tale certainly had to be placed into the list. After all, it is the one that kicked off ‘Original Gainer Stories’ all those years ago. There are many amazing examples of instant body weight transformation stories out there. I felt that I needed to write this one as my contribution to the genre. It went down well at the time. I swiftly wrote a Part Two, then followed it up with others (The Feeders’ Formation, The Feeders’ Formalities, The Feeders’ Foreclosure, The Feeders’ Forecast, The Feeders’ Former Years), becoming something of an ongoing saga in recent years; focusing on the different Feeders from that very first meeting. As a writer who sometimes struggles to find the ending, these are wonderful to write as they all have the same inevitable conclusion. There is also so much freedom to be had when you’re working with characters who are pretty much pure evil. I know so much more about the Feeders than I’ve ever written down, so it is great to tease out those little details with each new installment. The newest of these tales (The Feeders’ Foreplay) was the darkest yet, but seems to have provoked a very favourable reaction from many. Who knows what the Feeders may get up to next? I do! And you can find out too, once we start a whole new sweeps season of stories this April! Come with me into The Feeders' Fortress!

#9 Only One: Where do I start? Only One has my absolute favourite type of feeder. Ben is big, sexy and very in control. He’s one of those rare types of guys who always stays on top and is a step ahead of absoultely everyone he meets. Who wouldn’t fall for him? I certainly did! In fact, I loved him so much that I wrote an entire prequel for him (and none of you even noticed!) Check out Rewire if you want to see how Ben became the man we know and love.

#8 The Wright Boys: The idea of a weight gain that cannot be stopped or controlled is a tempting one for many. How much easier would it be if you didn’t have to second guess your choices or face the pressure to lose weight? This was the first tale of what I see as ‘The Curses’ saga that eventually bled into many other stories (including another one on this list!) and culminated in Wright vs Beckett. However, this story remains my personal favourite of these. If you’re a fan of looking for crossovers between my stories, these are some of the most explicitly linked. I followed it up with a spin-off tale (The Wright Boys: DNA), but continue to have ideas about how I could go back to these boys in the future. Watch this space.

#7 Making Monsters: The title of this story really does give away how I felt about it at the time. This is quite the saga, spread over into not just two, but three parts! It began as a story that was very similar to Blackmailed; a tale that I had written previously about a guy voyeristically enjoying seeing his friend fatten up her boyfriend. However, this story evolved even further for me, with Tommy’s love of eating and gaining weight being both his greatest love, and his biggest shame. His denial only heightened the tension for me, and, when he does eventually give in, the gains feel all the more satisfying as a result.

#6 The Pig Feed: It’s not easy to write a gainer story where there isn’t another character spurring the events along and encouraging things. In this tale however, that role is given to a very tasty and surprisingly addictive pig feed mixture that Steve gets himself hooked on. It’s a story that I really enjoyed writing and still feel very happy with. I have considered writing more stories around this interesting feed. However, I am yet to do so; deciding (for now at least) that things are perhaps best left as they are. But, feel free to let me know your thoughts on this.

#5 Farm Boy: Whether you grew up in a big city, or a small rural community, like Hayden in this story, we can all relate to having desires and attractions that those around us don’t understand. And, thanks to how well connected we are these days, we now know what it’s like to realise that you’re not actually alone, and the whirlwind of excited emotions that follow. I enjoyed writing this story because I, quite simply, fell completely in love with Hayden. As kinky as he was, he still retained that fresh faced innocence throughout. If any of my characters were destined to be together forever, I imagine that these two would be my top choice.

#4 Keeping a Crush: This is one of those stories that I wrote in a matter of hours, and I was so pleased with it when I was done. Getting the train to go to work is not necessarily something that many Americans have to do, and so the location had to be switched to the UK (quite refreshing, I thought!). For me, it’s one of those really rare instances where placing very solid restrictions on the structure of a story (In this case, having it all take place during the commute to and from work) and finding that it actually elevates the sexual tension and mood. All scenes take place in public settings. All conversations could, in theory, be overheard. These days, so many people meet online and flirt for weeks by messaging back and forth, before they even see each other for the first time. Nowadays, for better or for worse, the actual, real fantasy is finding a connection with someone you just see in the real world; perhaps with a person you literally just met on the way to work...

If you’ve not read this one, I really would highly recommend it.

#3 To the Max: Stories with a magical element to them are either loved or hated. However, I find that this tale walks that line very successfully. Ned gets his hands on a love potion and makes straight guy, Max, fall for him. I’m sure we’ve all been there with that fantasy! However, it is in the consequences of inviting someone into your life, someone that you actually know very little about, that the entire eroticism of this story is based. I won’t spoil it for those who have not read it, but believe me when I say that things soon start getting very interesting indeed…

#2 Tommy’s Two Hundred. Don’t recognise this one? Well, that's because none of you have read it yet. 

Now, I’m not just saying this because I want you all to come back for the two hundreth story, but this is genuinely one of my absolute favourites. For my big milestone stories in the past, I have written something specifically for that event (Wright vs Beckett, The Seven Feeders of Finn). However, this is just a tale that I adored writing and decided to hold back for you all, especially for this occasion. It’s a story of domination and submission within a fairly open, but very kinky, relationship. Strapping Hunter plays the part of a very controlling feeder, making me break many of my own rules and stretching my boundaries to the absolute limits. You’ll either love him, or you’ll hate him. That’s all I’m going to say…

Also, this story is going to be the first Feeder86 story that will be fully illustrated. It’s all thanks to the amazing talents of Spellwell9 who was given an advanced copy and asked to imagine the characters in four different scenes. I cannot wait for you to see this!

Put it in your diary. All will be revealed from Friday 5th April…

#1 F80 Control: This is perhaps a controvercial choice (especially as my #1). I have previously admitted that this story strays a little from its purpose of being a gainer story. In other words, I get very caught up in the background story that is being told. However, I feel that the science fiction genre is surprisingly underused in tales of weight gain. Yet, the combination of Aritificial Intelligence and submission seemed, to me, to be the perfect blend. It really is a beast of a story if you can follow it all the way through to its conclusion. 

With the advent of improved artificial intelligence software in recent years, I felt the time was right to develop the world further, with the addition of F80 Ctrl Alt Del; a spin-off tale set slightly before the main story. Then, unable to help myself, I followed this up again with another companion story, F80: Kidnap and Control. 

The reason I chose this universe as my favourite is because this is where I am happiest writing. With AI, I don’t need to consider the morality or motivations - I know exactly what their aims are and I can see multiple ways in which it will cause conflict with humanity (and their waistlines!) I would also love to write more for this world one day, and I even left a little unused subplot in the last story that I think would provide the perfect starting-off point for another chapter. Will I ever write it? Well, we’ll have to wait and see…

So, there you have it! The the complete list!

This was a much harder exercise than I expected when I first embarked upon it. Stories like: Jiggle the Jock, Meticulous, Rule Number One, Freaks, Leftovers I and II, Ethan: The Secret Feeder and, not fogetting The Consequences I, II and III all crept in and out of the list, unfortunatley missing out on the final cut. There are many, many others, of course. But this list cannot go on forever...

So, why not tell me which ones were your favourites? Feel free to write in the comments and post a link to any other stories that you have enjoyed from myself, or from other authors. Hopefully, if we all work together, this could become a great resource for people in the future, filled with signposts and reccommendations.  

Also, don’t forget the Feeder86 Contents page where you can find links and descriptions of all the 200 stories posted so far (as well as plot outlines for upcoming tales as well). Please continue to enjoy the vast catalogue of stories, and even have a go yourself! I love supporting the many new gainer fiction writers who contact me. So please do get in touch if you need advice, or to talk through your ideas. Let’s all encourage a whole new generation of people to get typing away! I’m sure you will cheer them on just as much as I will.

Thank you to everyone who supports the stories blog here on Tumblr. Keep checking in every Friday througout April for a whole new sweeps season to celebrate this milestone. Stories will include: Tommy's Two Hundred, Train for a Gain, The Feeders' Fortress and The 1% (a companion story to The 5%). For now, I thank you all for taking time out to sit and read the very bizarre tales that sprout from my mind. You are all wonderful.

Happy 200 stories!

Feeder86

[kaisacobra]

Deal - Tara Carpenter

Summary: After a long time apart, you and Tara have to figure out if you can still save what you had or if you are too broken to be fixed.

Warnings: A bit of angst (maybe)

Word Count: 3.9K

a/n: This is officially the end of the whole "second best" saga! Thank you so much for everyone who read it till here, it was really fun to write. I hope you guys don't mind the open ending 🤭

Fourth part/Alternate ending of Second Best

Tara couldn't remember the last time she felt this nervous. She stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror for what must have been the hundredth time, adjusting her bangs again, sweeping them from side to side until they looked almost the same as they did initially. The bright light in the room highlighted her freckles and wide, brown eyes filled with anxiety.

It had been a little over a year since she last saw you, since you accepted a spot for a study abroad program after recovering from the injuries caused by the last ghostfaces attack. You went with Kate, and as far as Tara knew, you and the girl spent that time living together.

She vividly remembered the day you left, as everyone else bid you farewell at the airport while Tara drowned in her own misery in her room. She wanted to go, say something, maybe even plead for you to stay, but she didn't have that right. She had sworn not to get close to you again until she knew she had her emotions under control.

Still, she allowed herself to be a bit more flexible when she noticed that her contact was no longer blocked by you. She let her fingers type an honest and heartfelt message about her mistakes, how sorry she was, and her plans to become a better person in the future. You responded with a heart emoji and nothing more. Nevertheless, it relieved the weight on Tara's chest just to know that you didn't hate her as much as she feared.

Tara remained true to the promise she made, a kind of devotion to you and what you represented in her life. She continued her therapy sessions regularly and decided to set aside some of her pride when trying to find new coping mechanisms, even if some of them required the help of others.

Writing remained her favorite, and she had hundreds of pages to prove it. She would be lying if she said you weren't the most mentioned topic in her journals, but over time, she started expanding her writing, and it became common to see her with a small notebook in her bag at all times, ready to express her opinions and feelings when necessary.

But she didn't have the notebook in hand that day. It was Mindy's birthday, and Tara wanted to be 100% dedicated to her friends, actively participating in games, conversations, and any other activity they needed. She knew she had been a bit absent-minded since you moved away, and it made her friends uneasy, not knowing exactly how to deal with the situation and with Tara herself.

But the day was supposed to be happy and carefree, so that's what Tara was going to appear to be.

Or at least, that was the plan until Tara arrived at Mindy's apartment and heard from the birthday girl herself that you would be arriving any moment. From that point on, Tara only remembers feeling her heart almost leap out of her throat and rushing to the bathroom in a failed attempt to prevent hyperventilation.

She sighed again and gripped the sink so tightly that the knuckles of her fingers turned white. She was anxious to see you, but she had no idea how you would react to the encounter. What if you looked at her with distaste? Or if you didn't even want to look her in the face? Tara knew she would deserve that kind of treatment, but it didn't mean it would hurt any less.

Because the truth is, all this time, Tara just wanted you back in her life.

---

Ringing a doorbell should be a simple task, but still, you couldn't help but stand in front of the door, second-guessing before pressing the simple buzzer.

"You know, if you want, we can turn around and leave, but we both know that's not what you want."

You sighed, turning to look at the girl beside you. Kate Bishop had her hands in the jacket pockets and displayed a fond smile on her face, which you imagined was an attempt to make you feel better.

"I hate it when you're right," you scoffed, but both of you knew your indignation was just a joke, having spent enough time together to read each other's reactions like a book.

This wasn't what you expected when you accepted the offer for a year-long study abroad program at Cambridge, but you also couldn't say you weren't satisfied with how things turned out. You didn't even know you needed this change of scenery, but it made sense after everything you had been through. You needed time away from painful memories.

The British air provided a calmness you hadn't felt in a long time, without fear of seeing familiar faces on the streets or places that would remind you of certain memories or people. Of course, good company also played a significant role.

You could hardly believe it when Kate offered to share an apartment with you near the college. She had already done so much for you, being by your side and supporting you throughout your rehabilitation process after last year's attack. You didn't want her to feel obligated to continue taking care of you.

But Kate barely listened to your concerns, saying that she needed to go to other countries to try to expand her company's contacts and that it would be good to have a roommate to share expenses (even though you were pretty sure Kate had enough money to buy three apartments in central London if she wanted to).

It was one of the best decisions you had ever made, and quickly you and Kate fell into such a comfortable rhythm that it felt like you had always lived together. Your relationship even turned romantic for a while, but it only lasted until you both realized that you were better off as friends, which was agreed upon between the two of you.

"Come on, ring that doorbell already! I'm starving!" Kate lightly pushed you, and you rolled your eyes with affection, feeling a bit less tense with your friend's moral support.

"Starving," you laughed and actually pressed the doorbell, taking a few steps back to wait for the moment the door would open. Your hands were trembling, and you felt as though you were about to sweat even though it was quite cold in New York. Of course, you missed your friends, your family, but that wasn't enough to ease your anxiety.

When the door finally opened, you were faced with Mindy Meeks-Martin, with her signature sarcastic smile and her short, curly hair reaching her chin, much longer than the last time you saw her. "Well, well. If it isn't our new European! Do you only speak with an accent now?"

"You're ridiculous." With a smile, you advanced and enveloped Mindy in a long hug that she quickly reciprocated, both feeling the longing emanating through the touch. The contact lasted for a few long seconds until you both untangled yourselves again. "I hope it's not a problem that I brought Kate along..."

"Pfft! Of course not!" Mindy waved her hand, indicating that she didn't mind the newcomer. "It's even better you brought her because I needed to thank her in person for taking care of you." She looked at Kate with a playful smile. "I think we all know our y/n is too kind to be alone in a distant country. She would try to help a stranger on the street and get kidnapped for sure."

"Hey!"

"Wow, have you heard about the time she took the wrong subway, and then..."

"Okay! Enough about my misfortune! Can we go in?" You interrupted Kate, feeling your cheeks flush a bit. Despite being slightly embarrassed, you were still happy that two important people in your life had the potential to get along, and that was all you could ask for.

Mindy made room, and finally, you entered the apartment. It was new, considering the twin and Anika had recently moved in together, and it was sparsely furnished but beautiful and comfortable enough to feel like a home. You and Kate approached, she with her hands on your back as a silent support, and you greeted your friends with enthusiasm and a longing to catch up.

Chad looked stronger than ever, and he seemed excited about both college and his part-time job as an assistant at a gym. Apparently, he got a discount for training and using the equipment and was clearly taking full advantage of it. He and Kate engaged in a conversation about diets, weights, and workouts that you honestly couldn't follow, but you were satisfied to know that they had gotten along well enough to plan to train together someday.

Anika was happy and radiant, making you laugh as she always did. She wore a cropped top, revealing the huge scar forming a line in the center of her stomach, something she seemed to wear with pride. You never expected this reaction from her; on the contrary, you had imagined that she would want to distance herself from the group, out of fear or trauma. Still, it was reassuring to see that she had stayed for Mindy. They were the kind of couple you hoped would last forever.

Sam seemed somewhat lighter since the last time you saw her, as if a huge weight had lifted off her shoulders. She was smiling, albeit not very widely, and welcomed you with a warm hug that almost made you cry with relief. Part of you always wondered if Sam was glad with your departure because of... well... your conflicts with her sister, but she seemed so happy with your presence that it was almost embarrassing that you had that thought in the first place.

And then, she came. A pair of bright brown eyes that haunted your sleep without permission. It was unfair how she looked as beautiful as the last time you saw her, as if time worked differently for her, and only for her. Your breath caught in your throat, and your heart seemed to beat so fast it was about to explode.

How could it be possible that your entire system changed just by her presence? How was it possible that, with a glance, she could change your heartbeat and make your head spin like a carousel? Maybe she didn't even know she was doing it, but you couldn't comprehend why, even after so many years, your body reacted so instinctively around her.

It was almost humiliating to realize that your efforts seemed to have been in vain. You had gone to another country, met new people, explored new horizons, even had a girlfriend for a brief period. During this year, you had thought so little about Tara that you almost thought you could leave her in the past, that you had overcome your feelings, so pure but so conflicting. All of this, all this effort to come back and realize that you seemed to still be stuck in the same place, like the same foolish girl who would do anything for Tara Carpenter against your better judgment.

You could still hear her screams on that last night you had together when you thought you were going to die, and your biggest concern was that Tara had to leave that room alive. You still remembered the conversation you had before, Tara begging for your forgiveness and saying she loved you multiple times.

Those were memories that left a hole in your chest. You knew Tara had her problems, but you always lost so much when she distanced herself.

She raised her hand in an awkward greeting, and you think you gave a half-smile in response. It was too much. You were still feeling too much, and it drove you crazy. Still, you pretended everything was okay for a few moments, just not to create an uncomfortable atmosphere at the party. You talked to the others, sharing a bit of your experience in England, but your mind always unconsciously turned to Tara, analyzing her reactions and trying to read her thoughts.

Tara was quiet, maybe even quieter than you had ever seen her. You couldn't read her expressions very well, straining to see her only from the corner of your eye, but you could feel her attentive gaze on you, as if nothing in the world was as interesting as you.

Finally, you stopped talking for a while and found an excuse to leave and try to restore some of your sanity. The door to the balcony was open, and even though the view was nothing but New York's industrial buildings, the cold wind on your face helped alleviate some of the nervousness you were feeling.

A gentle touch reached your shoulder, and it was familiar enough for you to recognize the owner. Kate's image appeared by your side as she leaned on the railing, looking directly at your face in deep thought. "So?"

"I thought I had gotten over this. This is ridiculous." You responded with your head down, feeling ashamed to continue in this cycle of liking Tara Carpenter.

Kate shook her head and held your shoulder again, silently asking for your attention. "You can't control these things, you know." A second of silence passed, the faint sounds of the city serving as a soundtrack to your emotional confusion. "If it helps, she spent the whole time looking at you. She seemed... I don't know, regretful, maybe? I don't know her as well as you do."

"I don't even know if I still know her." It was a true confession. Even after everything, even the attacks and the message Tara sent you when you were leaving the country, you still weren't sure if she had the capacity to return to what she was before everything went wrong. You were afraid, and honestly, who could blame you?

While you were away, sometimes you checked your friends' Instagram, just to see what they were up to. Multiple times, the posts contained photos with Tara, and she seemed happy, maybe even lighter. You even wondered if the two of you were just destined to be apart, like a more brutal version of Romeo and Juliet.

"You're not obligated to anything, but don't you need some sort of closure?" Kate advised. "Just to move on, if that's what you really want."

"What do you mean by that?" You retorted defensively.

The blue-eyed girl smiled and shook her head slightly, as if dealing with an irritated child. "I saw how you looked at her when you arrived. I'm not saying you should do anything, especially because I have my doubts if she could really be good for you, but it's clear that you feel something for her that's bigger than you can control."

"Yeah, and that's pathetic."

"Don't be so hard on yourself. I understand that your situation is complicated." Kate placed her other hand on your shoulder, now holding you face-to-face with her. "But you know you'll have to face this someday, right? Whatever the conclusion may be."

"Yeah, I know." You sighed, but eventually a smile broke through, lighting up your expression. "When did you become so wise, Bishop? Last time I saw you, you were trying to put aluminum in the microwave."

"Shut up." She grumbled while also having a smile on her face and pulled you into a hug that you didn't even know you needed. That was Kate, a warm person who always gave her best to the people she loved. You couldn't be more grateful to still have her in your life, even though your relationship didn't work out. 

The affectionate moment almost made you forget your conflict. Almost.

Until the reason for all your doubts appeared standing in front of the door, staring directly at you.

_

Tara regretted going after you.

She should have expected, especially since you came to the party with Kate, especially because you spent this whole year living with her. But that didn't mean it hurt any less to see you embraced with her, looking so comfortable that you wouldn't need anything else in this world.

Especially if it was someone known for hurting you and breaking your heart repeatedly.

She stood there, rooted to the ground like an idiot, until you two separated and noticed her presence. When your eyes met, she looked like a deer in the headlights and immediately started stepping back, embarrassed to have been caught like that.

Tara was already planning how to hide from you for the rest of the party when Kate stopped her. "Hey! No need to leave."

The Latina girl halted her route and looked suspiciously at both of you. You didn't seem to understand the situation, just like her, but Kate seemed sure of what she was doing because she continued. "You two need to talk once and for all. No imminent death or text messages, just eye to eye."

"Kate." You called her, grabbing her arm as a form of protest. Tara couldn't help but wince when she noticed how just how much you were against the idea of being alone with her. Not that she could blame you for it.

"Thank me later." That was all the other girl responded, and with a short nod towards Tara, she returned to the living room, leaving two tormented souls by themselves on the balcony.

Tara took a few small steps forward, analyzing what your reaction would be to the proximity. You seemed to be doing your best to ignore her, looking into the distance as if there were something interesting in graffiti-covered billboards and dimly lit lamp posts. She leaned on the railing, trying at least to have a view of your face. "Sorry if I interrupted your intimate moment; I didn't mean to."

You released air through your nose, but Tara couldn't tell if it was a laugh. "You talk as if Kate and I were dating."

"And aren't you?" The younger Carpenter replied, trying to contain some of the excitement she wanted to show. That had been one of the best news she had received in a long time. 

"No, not for a while. I thought you saw it on my Instagram; I unblocked you." You finally looked at her, and Tara could see that you were analyzing her, as if she were a puzzle to be solved.

"Yeah, I stopped checking a while ago. Thought maybe it would bother you."

"And it wouldn't bother me for you to say you love me and not visit me in the hospital once after almost dying in front of you? It wouldn't bother me that the only news I had from you after that was that message before I boarded the plane, since you didn't even bother to show up at the airport?"

Tara felt the anger in your voice, and she accepted each of your frustrations as a penance. God, she would probably accept a punch from you if that would make you feel better. "I had promised myself that I would only get close to you again when I was better, okay? When I sought help and there was no risk of being an idiot with you again. I didn't lie when I said I love you, and it's because I love you that I knew it was better to stay away until I could be a version of myself that would be better for you."

A minute of pure silence passed, and Tara almost thought the conversation would end there until you spoke again. "And did you? Get better, I mean."

She sighed and crossed her arms as if that made her less vulnerable. "I think so. I don't feel as much uncontrolled anger as before; I also don't feel the need to take out my frustrations in drinks or parties. It's been a while since I argued with Sam, and I think that's good for both of us. And my therapist is nice, even though he's old enough to not know what Twitter is." Tara laughed, even though she was full of anxiety bubbling inside her. "But he advised me to write, and that has helped me a lot."

You looked at her with curiosity. "Write? About what?"

"About everything." Tara shrugged, almost as if she were relaxed. "My day-to-day life, college, my friends... you. Writing makes what I feel not stay trapped inside me, so I have no reason to explode. Everyone wins with this, and I must say that my essay grades even increased after that."

A short laugh escaped your lips, and the sound made Tara minimally satisfied with herself. "You write about me?"

"Yeah, actually, most of my journals have something about you. Memories of our childhood or what I feel for you." Tara admitted, feeling her own face blush with embarassment. You didn't seem to notice, or just didn't care, because you continued to look at her very carefully. "But most of it is about things I regret. Things I said, things I did... I'm really sorry."

"I want to believe that. I mean, I believe you, I know you're not lying, but..." You placed your hands on your head and closed your eyes, your elbows resting on the railing. It seemed like you were trying to block your own thoughts. "It's all so complex, and I feel so much... pain."

"I understand. I don't expect you to forgive me, and I'm willing to spend the rest of my life apologizing if necessary." Cautiously, Tara took a few steps towards you. "But if you want me to stay away, just say the words, and I'll go."

You sighed with evident exhaustion. "Of course not, Tara."

She took a few more steps, and now her arm almost touched yours. "I know I have no right to ask this, but... do you still love me? Or do you think you could love me again someday?"

"Of course, I still love you, Tara! Don't you see that's the problem?" You moved away from the railing, raising your voice as the conversation stressed you. "I shouldn't still love you! I shouldn't still want you around! What does that say about me?"

Tara waited a few seconds until you calmed down, keeping the distance between you to avoid making you more irritated. When your breathing started to slow, she continued in a weak voice. "I hurt the person I loved most in this world. What does that say about me?"

You didn't say anything in response. She spoke again. "Why don't we make a deal?"

"A deal? About what?" You replied with sarcasm dripping from your voice.

"Let me prove that I've changed, that I've improved, that I deserve a place in your life again. We can start slowly; I won't force anything and will respect any boundaries you want." The girl pleaded, almost clasping her hands and kneeling at your feet. "And if I do anything, anything at all, that makes you uncomfortable and hurts you, I'll leave you alone forever."

"What's the point of that?"

"To stop this doubt that I know we both have. Stop us from wondering about the 'what ifs' and really put to the test if I've changed. That's what you want, isn't it? To know if there's any chance the old Tara can come back? Well, that's all I want too."

You stared at her, clear doubt and apprehension in your eyes as you thought about the presented arguments. Tara's foot tapped rapidly on the floor, demonstrating her nervousness.

A few seconds passed until you spoke again. "What does this mean for us?"

Tara's expression softened as she understood your caution. It was understandable, your fear. "I don't know, but we can find out together. Do we have a deal?"

A few more seconds, and then, a nod.

"Deal."

[scribblesofagoonerr]

— travel sickness | cookie monster saga

pairings: steph catley x reader

summary: reader experiences her first flight and unforuntately, the travel sickness that comes with it.

"Look, Mama. Look!" You excitedly point out the window, wriggling around in your seat which makes it incredibely difficult to buckle you into your seat, ahead of the plane taking off, "I can see everyone else gettin' on the plane!"

Your mama, Steph, chuckled at your own brimming excitement over seeing other people get on the plane, "I can see that sweetie, but sit still a minute, so I can buckle you in, okay?" She told you, gently.

"I'm excited, Mama!" You still continued to giggle uncontrolably, but allow your Mama to safely buckle you into your seat as you try and look out of the window, "We see the 'roos soon?" You questioned, excitedly.

"We will soon enough when we're in Australia," Steph laughed, settling back in her seat once she made sure you were content with your iPad set up to watch the latest episodes of Bluey, "Are you excited to see your aunties? I know they're all lookin' forward to seeing you," She wondered.

"Yeah, I want to see Kyra and Charli!" You squealed in excitement, you couldn't wait to see the two of them, and of course the rest of the Matildas' that you had previously met.

"Of course you want to see them pair," Steph rolled her eyes in amusement and shook her head, "I'm sure that they'll be looking forward to seeing you as well. Are you ready for the plane to take off soon?" She questioned.

"Yeah! Will it be bumpy though, Mama?" You asked, worriedly as your not sure what to expect on your first time flying.

"It will be when we take off, but it won't last that long," Steph told you honestly, "And don't worry, I'll hold your hand the whole time," She added, gently taking hold of your hand.

"Promise?" You questioned, wearily.

"When have I ever broke a promise to you," Steph joked as she brushed the hair out of your eyes, "I promise that Mama will be here the whole time," She told you.

"Mama, I feel scared!" You quivered in fear as you felt scared when you feel the sudden turbulence of the plane taking off the runway. 

"Hey, its' okay, sweetie. Remember what I said? Mamas' right here," Steph replied, pulling you into her arms the best she can do with the restriction of the seatbelt as she ran her hand gently through your hair.

"M... Mama," You continued to whimper when you feel the plane begin to pick up the speed.

"It's alright, I'm here. Just keep holding on Mama's hand, okay?" Steph told you, trying to keep you calm even though she could see the clear panic in your eyes.

"I... I'm scared! Wan' off!" You cried out, thrashing around in her arms as you feel the plane tilting in a different direction, "I don' like it, Mama! I don' like it!" You cried even harder.

Steph's heart ached seeing you distressed when she couldn't do much to help, "I know sweetie, I know. It won't be longer," She reassured you, feeling more than grateful when you were up high enough in the sky and the seatbelt sun finally disappeared, "Come here sweetie," She was quick to pull you onto her lap and rock you to calm you down.

You buried your face in your Mamas' chest as your sobs slowly subsided, "M... Mama, that were scary!" You sniffled with your voice muffled against her shirt.

"I know sweetie," Steph replied, kissing the top of your head, "Look, can you see the clouds now?" She changed the topic, motioning to out of the plane window to try and take your mind of your initial fear.

Your hesistantly lifted your head and peered out of the window, "Whoa, clouds-- They look like fluffy marsh 'ellows!" You exlciamed, shifting of your Mamas' lap to press your face up against the glass and stare at them in amazement.

"They do, don't they?" Steph chuckled, grateful that your attention has been turned away from your fear of turbulence.

Fortunately for your Mama, the flight to Singapore wasn't completely terrible and you were able to settle in your seat, occupied with much promised cookies & several episodes of Bluey to keep you entertained.

However, the same can't be said for the connected flight to Australia, with the tears spilling down your cheeks in fear once more when the flight took off the ground once again, but it was only intesified with a feeling of nausea shaking your body as well.

"Mama, I... I don' feel good," You whimpered, clutching a hold of your stomach while your face paled and your eyes widened in discomfort.

Steph turned to look at you in concern, "It's alright, sweetie. Lets' try and take in some deep breaths, hm?" She suggested, trying to keep you calm and hope that you don't get sick, "Can you follow what Mamas' doing? Just copy me, okay?" She told you, gently.

You nodded weakily and attempt to follow her advice, but the movement of the plane made it impossible for you to feel better, "Mama... It's bumpy, I... I don' like it!" You cried out, the fear of the plane partnered with the nausea overwhelming you.

Without any further warning for your Mama, you can't hold back the nausea any longer before you end up being sick, "M... Mama," You whimpered, upset about it.

"Oh sweetie," Steph gasped in shock and was quick to grab the nearest sick bag before she held it out in front of you in case you needed it again, "It's okay, just let it all out. Yeah? You're okay," She reassured you.

"Mama," You repeated quietly, the tears streamed down your face as you feel upset about it.

"You're okay, its' alright. Things like this happen," Steph told you, keeping the bag out in front of you as her other hand rubbed your back comfortingly as she looked to find the nearest member of staff on the plane, "Hi, would it possible to get some water, please?" She questioned, kindly.

"Of course," A nearby member of staff agreed and went to get the water as needed.

"It's okay sweetie, the nice ladys' just gone to grab us a bottle of water and then we'll get you cleaned up afterwards," Steph told you gently, continuing to rub your back in comfort.

"I feel icky, Mama," You trembled in fear, not liking the feeling of sick being on you at all.

"Here's your water," The member of cabin crew brought the water back and handed it over to Steph before asking if there was anything else that she could help you with.

"Thank you. Would you mind pointing me in the direction of the bathroom?" Steph wondered, wanting to get you cleaned up quickly as possible.

"Of course, its' right over there," The lady motioned in the direction of where the bathroom before Steph thanked her and she made her way in the other opposite way of the plane.

"Come on sweetie, lets' go and get you changed out of them clothes, hm?" Steph lifted you into her arms and carried you to the bathroom, making feeling grateful that she thought ahead to pack a spare pair of clothes for you just in case, "I know you feel icky right now, but it won't last too long and you'll feel better soon," She reassured you, gently.

"Don' like it Mama," You whined in protest, although your Mama was quick to help your face and change your clothes, placing the old clothes in a plastic bag and putting them in the bottom of the backpack to be washed when she next had the chance.

"There we go, is that better?" Steph questioned, carrying you back to the seats where she cracked open the bottle of water and poured it into the sippy cup that she'd also brought along in the backpack, "Take some small sips, sweetie," She encouraged, hopeful that the water may help.

"Better, Mama," You let a yawn slip out of your mouth as the overall exhaustion takes over your small body, "I'm tired now, Mama. How much longer until we 'dere?" You mumbled, snuggling your face against your Mamas' chest.

"Not for a while yet," Steph chuckled, wrapping your blanket around you to keep you cosy as you lounge against her chest, "Why don't you have a little nap? By the time that you wake up, we'll be in Australia," She suggested.

"Otay then, Mama, and we can see Kyra too? And Charli?" Your eyelids were heavy with exhaustion, but you are still excited to see the two of them.

"Yes, we will see them in a few hours," Steph answered amusedly, brushing a strand of hair out of your eyes, "Close your eyes and try sleep for a bit. I'll wake you up when we're there,"

You nodded tiredly, not having much energy to speak as your eyelids' begin to flutter shut, "Kay' Mama, night night," You murmered, allowing sleep take over your body.

"Night night sweetie. Have a good nap," Steph whispered, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head as she leaned back in her seat while she kept a protective arm around you while you slept in her arms.

© scribblesofagoonerr

[littlexdeaths]

the car trouble saga continues…

older brother’s best friend eddie x fem reader

you can find parts one-three on the masterlist below!

it’s a recipe for disaster masterlist.

you will your breathing to slow as you walk alongside eddie to your front door. letting your fingertips brush as you walk, and it feels like you’re in a dream.

you had expected him to laugh off your offer, but he agreed almost too eagerly. was it just wishful thinking on your part?

or did he want this too?

you’re completely lost in your thoughts as you unlock the front door with shaky hands. while he seems as casual as ever, eddie is just as nervous as you are— he’s just much better at hiding it.

“so uh, where’s sid at anyway?” he asks softly as he kicks off his reeboks by the front door.

while eddie had spent the greater part of his teenage years in this house, he’s never seen it so quiet. it’s unusual. but not as unusual as being alone with his best friend’s little sister.

“working, or he’s with heather.” you shrug.

heather halloway, your brother’s better half.

“and your parents?”

while it embarrassed the hell out of you that you were still 20 years old and living with your folks, you really couldn’t afford to move out on your own yet.

“gone for the weekend, celebrating their wedding anniversary.” you hum, looking back at him over your shoulder.

eddie swallows thickly, and it finally dawns on him just how alone you two really are.

he follows you into the kitchen, flicking the overhead light on when you head towards the fridge.

“are you hungry? or thirsty? i think i might have some leftover—” your rambling is cut short when you turn and he’s suddenly right beside you.

he’s close. so fucking close that you can feel the heat radiating from his chest. eddie takes a step forward, backing you against the kitchen island. he rests one hand on the counter by your hip, and the other reaches up to cup your cheek. there’s a look of determination in his eyes as his tilts his head towards you.

and then you feel his lips brush against yours.

you’re in shock, body completely frozen as he presses his lips more firmly against yours. but when he feels how stiff you are, he stops immediately. a look of embarrassment crosses over his features when he takes a step back.

“oh shit, fuck. i read this whole thing wrong. i’m so sorry. god, please don’t say anything to sid, he’ll kill me—”

now you’re the one cutting off his worried rambling with your lips, gripping his t-shirt in your fists. eddie recovers quickly, immediately pulling you closer by your belt loops. his lips are softer than you expected, and they mold against yours almost too perfectly.

you can still taste the last cigarette on his tongue, and the sweat from his upper lip as you kiss him harder. it’s the most intoxicating combination and you just want more, more, more.

and more he gives you.

eddie’s grip on your hips tightens and suddenly he’s lifting you up onto the counter. he fits snugly between your open thighs, ringed fingers slipping up and underneath the hem of your blouse. you don’t know where he ends and you begin, but you can’t find it within yourself to care.

not when he’s kissing you like his life depends on it.

but it all comes crashing down in an instant when the front door swings open, and your brothers voice rings out into the empty house.

“mouse? you home?”

[getinthecar-elizabeth]

Summary: Comforting Kylian after losing the Euro semi-finals to Spain.

Pairing: Kylian Mbappé x wife!reader

Warnings: None

You wanted so badly to watch the semi-finals against Spain in person but you were prepping for the move to Madrid so you flew back to Paris. You didn't want Kylian to stress about the move so you were handling a lot of the logistics alongside his mother.

You watched the match at home. Things were going well in the first half with an early goal for France but the table quickly turned when Spain scored two goals. It continued like that until the end and France lost to Spain.

You felt terrible and you knew Kylian did too. You video-called him when you knew he'd be in his room. He was in bed when he answered your call.

"Mon amour," he said. He put one hand behind his head.

"Mon bébé," you said. You didn't ask how he was doing. The look on his face told you all you needed to know.

You stared at each other in silence for a long time.

"Come home Kylian," you said.

"Chérie...," he swiped his palm over his face.

"No, Kylian, please come home. You need to rest. You've been through enough, and I'm not just talking about this tournament. Please my love, just come home." You sat up on the bed.

Kylian sighed deeply, "Okay."

"Good. I'll be waiting for you, okay?"

"Oui, chérie."

"I love you," you smiled.

"Je t'aime aussi," he returned a sad smile.

"Get some sleep bébé," you told him.

You said your goodbyes and hung up.

*** Back home***

You waited for Kylian at the airport. When he showed up he had the same sad disappointed look. You opened your arms wide and he walked into your embrace. His arms wrapped around your lower back and he buried his face in your neck, breathing in your sweet smell. He missed you.

Your right hand brushed up and down the back of his head and you felt him melt into your arms. "It's alright my love, let it all go."

He pulled back and you held his face and brought him in for a kiss.

"Let's go home." You grabbed his hand and led him to the car.

You both sat at the back as the driver took you home.

When you got home you led him to the couch. You sat him down and straddled him. He placed his hands on your waist and looked into your eyes. You held his face and rubbed your thumbs on his cheeks.

"I know losing hurts," you started, "it's like heartbreak or losing a loved one, no matter how many times it happens, it still hurts every time. But luckily, it doesn't happen too often right?"

"But I let everybody down," he sighed.

"You were not playing alone on the pitch, you can't take all the blame. Yeah sure, when things are bad everybody expects you to come through, but you're not Superman. And you were injured for goodness sake. If it was up to me, I would have had you on bedrest for the rest of the tournament. But you said: "It's my nose that's broken not my legs. I can still kick a ball,'" You imitated him.

He smiled. It was small but it was there.

"I was not my best, non?"

"No. The whole team was not playing their best. I don't know what was wrong but I know you will figure it out. For now, just rest."  You hugged him to your chest.

With the whole PSG saga and him leaving for Madrid, and breaking his nose in the Euro tournament, your husband had been through a lot and you just wanted him to detach. There was too much pressure on him both physically and mentally. You wanted him to relax and recuperate before you left for Spain, and you were going to make sure of it.

To the world, he was a goal-scoring machine, but to you he was human and you could see the weight he carried, the toll it took on him. Everyone blamed him when things went wrong. But he had been doing this for a while and you knew he would bounce back. You were going to be the support and pick me up he needed in this trying time.

"Kante was amazing though," you said.

Kylian chuckled, "Ah, oui, il était super (yes, he was great)."

[aajjks]

Bed, with your name on it! (M)

from the bunny koo saga!

anon request: headcanon of bunny!koo as a boyfriend? like y/n finally agreed to get into a relationship with him (if you don't mind, headcanon of what he's like in bed too?

warnings: smut, kissing, extreme yandere behaviour, mentions of oral sex (f receiving), marking, noona kink, scent kink, unhealthy possessiveness, manipulation, WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT!!!!! mentions of baby trapping, breeding kink.

disclaimer. This is purely fictional & does not represent the real bts or jeon jungkook irl, this is extremely toxic so please do not romanticise this behaviour at all, I don’t condone this behaviour and viewer discretion is advised!

Yandere hybrid bunny jungkook as your boyfriend? I pity you.

You don’t know how you agreed to become his girlfriend in the first place. Maybe it was his begging eyes or the way he loved you so much.

He is overwhelmingly loving, sweet and caring. Maybe in a normal sense? It’s the perfect recipe for the perfect boyfriend? But in your case? It’s the ultimate nightmare.

Well, they do say that too much sweetness can be deadly,

He is the best, in every aspect, jungkook is obsessed with you, his dream girl, his noona.

He is loyal, an amazing lover, he is so dedicated to loving you, but you’d think it’s the insecurities that push him to try so hard.

He is so insecure, scared about loosing you, Jungkook trembles at the thought of loosing you, it’s hard to calm him down or reassure him.

He’s needy, dangerously so. 

You love him, you really do but Jungkook is simply obsessed with you, that’s the problem.

You can’t breathe without him breathing down your neck, he’s super affectionate, he will shower you in a 1000 kisses and will demand you do the same.

He is a very horny person, you look at him? He’s hard.

It’s hard for him to control himself, Jungkook is weak, and helpless. You are too gorgeous for him, he could look at you forever and he wouldn’t blink one time,

He hates himself for being so horny all the times, he’s closing his eyes? He’s fucking you. It’s all he thinks about, even in his dreams, he’s disgusting and lewd. Jungkook wants to be good for you and please you.

He really wants to please you so you can never even think of leaving him. He just wants to be yours.

So that’s why he’s always kissing your neck or playing with your chest because it calms him down, the fear bubbling inside him threatens to burst but as soon as he makes contact with your soft supple skin? He’s melting inside.

His legs feel so shaky whenever he’s eating you out, he’s careful, so gentle, and he feels so good pleasuring so much that it makes your mind go blank.

“Noona you taste s-so sweet! Could eat you out forever, I could die between your legs!”

It drives him insane, he wants to imprint himself into you, he can’t help it, he’s possessive. He will mark you, his teeth sink into your skin so easily as he nibbles hard enough to leave a red mark, he’s so proud of his marks all over your body.

He will make you mark him as well.

“Mark me noona, please! They can’t take me away from you!”

He’s very rough, but gentle at the same time, he’ll pound into you so hard that will mage you see the whole galaxy, how does he find your it spot so easily?

He’s obsessed with your body, your scent. He will inhale you 24/7 like a dog, he wants to smell like you but he wants you to smell like him.

He is a long kisser, he will kiss you at every minute he can. He’s a good kisser, incredibly good, he knows how to take your breath away, literally.

He loves it when your nails scratch his back so hard, your nails fic so deep into his flesh that it bleeds, he wants you to ruin him, make him bleed and cry out in ecstasy.

“Feels s-so good noona, j-jus’like that, fuck!”

Intimacy with him is so important, he worships you and your body, he makes you feel so loved, so incredibly special.

“My noona is the prettiest, your arms, your legs, your face… everything about is so perfect noona? Let me love you please.”

Jungkook wants to get you pregnant that’s why he is so good at convincing you to ditch your birth control so he can begin his process.

He often fantasises about you becoming pregnant with his child, you’d look even more radiant and irresistible, your glowing face, your swollen stomach, your swollen legs and arms.

God, he could die to see it becoming a reality, he’ll be so good to you,

Just like he is always, your good boy. Your good and only boyfriend.

[deconstructthesoup]

I think the reason that Dimension 20 really scratches all those itches in my brain is that it really shows what you can do with D&D---and TTRPGs as a whole.

Fantasy High, by itself, is an incredibly compelling concept. What would D&D look like in a semi-modern setting? What would a high school that's all about teaching teens how to be adventurers look like? And the way it's done is beyond inventive, especially if you look at all the encounters in the first season---we've got a literal food fight, a high-speed road chase with tiefling greasers, a nightclub brawl with zombies, vampires, and werewolves, a skating match with a bunch of dwarven middle schoolers and a concrete golem, a high-stakes game of football (ish) with undead jocks that give off major teen slasher vibes, a fight done in an arcade where characters can get trapped in the consoles, and the final battle is done at prom. PROM! How cool is that?

And then we get to the Unsleeping City, which takes the urban fantasy elements that Fantasy High already had and elevates it. The way the D&D lore and magic is interpreted in a modern New York setting is excellent, as is the whole take on the "American Dream," magic literally coming from dreams, ideas, and the imagination. I know that I need to actually finish the UC saga, but from what I've seen and experienced, it is truly fantastic.

And the same energy carries through to the other seasons---my personal favorite outside of Fantasy High being A Court of Fey and Flowers, just because I'm a sucker for any Fey Realm content and I've been raised on Jane Austen---where the genre mashups shine through in the best way possible. I'll admit, I haven't seen A Crown of Candy, purely because I know how heartbreaking and devastating it is and I don't think I can physically handle it, but the concept of Candyland Game of Thrones is so beautifully bizarre that I totally get why people love it so much. Escape from the Bloodkeep hitting that workplace comedy vibe that we love to see in villains. Misfits & Magic being a love letter to the "magical boarding school" genre while also calling out all the weird contradictions inherent in it. A Starstruck Odyssey literally being an homage to Brennan's mom and exactly the kind of madcap and unhinged energy I need from my sci-fi. Neverafter perfectly encapsulating the true horror of fairy tales. Mentopolis hitting my noir-loving heart and personifying hyperfixation in the best way possible.

I'm not even kidding when I say that, if it weren't for Dimension 20... I probably wouldn't have even started my own campaign. I'd had snippets and ideas ever since officially getting into D&D and joining a game with some old friends (and getting back in touch with them in the process), but after I saw the Mentopolis trailer, I realized just how much variety TTRGPs had to offer. I could do a time-blending, history-meets-future campaign. I could go out-of-the-box. I could have endless amounts of options available to my friends and still tell the story that I wanted to tell. And when I sat down and watched Fantasy High---and when I got that Dropout subscription so I could consume whatever I wanted---it felt like the show was actually giving me advice. It's fantastic.

Also it helps that the episodes are usually only roughly a couple hours instead of being, like, an entire afternoon long. And that each season is 20 episodes, tops. No offense to Critical Role, but the sheer amount of content literally makes it impossible for me to get into it.

[firesnap]

What's interesting about November 16th is that, from terms of a fictional character that I love, celebrating the day that he collapsed in is own spiral and offed himself feels strange. Like it was the loud shrilling piece of an orchestral piece and then silence afterwards -- you can't look away, the silence feels heavy and consuming afterwards, it gave the whole saga an ending that it deserved, and you have to respect it, but it was still his lowest point.

But.

The reason why I can't help it and have to be extra nerdy on November 16th is because it's a celebration of cc!Wilbur Soot pulling off a story that, in hindsight, he was lucky to do. We saw how bad that server got with organization and plots and people being everywhere. We know that a huge part of him getting that story out the way he did was because people had nothing else to do. But. Man. It was still impressive. He took an entire server that had minimal barebones improv bits and RP and told a whole story with different arcs and juggled POVs and locations. He set up a character that wasn't even his as the POV he knew the hugest chunk of the audience was watching and left story bits just for them. He made his own streams and appearances into these sort of force of nature plot and character hours that made every other character have to react and plan around them.

All with a crew of people with such varying RP experience that you can't even account for it.

Like, of course it was the conclusion to I think the best story that server ever did so I'm biased. I know I'm biased. But in terms of organization, delivery and structure I don't know how you could disagree that this was Wilbur's (and the server's) shining moment.