#I didn’t think we’d ever get a sequel!

[ryanmarshallryan]

Just Another Day at the Beach (Another Vore Story)

Felt like making a sequel to one of my favorite stories I've posted, "How Far I'll Go - A Day at the Beach." Made it quickly, but had a fun time. Happy Vore Day! Enjoy!

Sean went to the beach to watch the sunset. The little bar of sand was still fairly crowded with folks who had the same idea as him. He sat behind a little family, and just to the right of a surprisingly rotund man, who was lying down asleep on his back on a beach towel so big it must have been custom made. As he watched the red sky turn to twilight violet and blue, he noticed the family cleaning up and getting ready to go. There was a great big blue cooler next to them that they appeared to have forgotten about, so Sean called over to them as they were walking up the beach.

“Hey! I think you forgot your cooler!” Sean hollered.

“It’s mine,” said the big bellied man a ways over to his left. Sean thought the man was asleep and was surprised to hear him. 

“Oh! Sorry about that. It was just closer to their towels, so I thought -”

“I’ve been here all day. Beach was empty when I arrived. People came and settled all around my towel but getting up to move my cooler closer was just too much effort.”

“All day? And you haven’t touched your cooler? You must be starving!” Sean said, eyeing that big round gut slowly rising and falling with each of the big man’s breaths. “Do you want me to pull it closer to you?”

The big man made the slightest motion of his eyes towards Sean, “If you’re offering,”

Sean got up and went to pull the big cooler by the handle a bit closer to the big man. He was caught off guard by how heavy the cooler was. “Woah! This has got to be a hundred pounds! What’s in this thing?”

“Food, mostly,” the big man said, lazily.

After a few moments of struggle, Sean succeeded in getting the cooler into motion and pulling it close to the big man, though Sean’s feet staggered on the big man’s towel, and he tripped backwards. Before he could twist around and throw his hands forward to break his fall, he collided with the man’s belly and bounced over the top of it like he was doing a trick in a bouncy house. 

“Oof! Sorry about that,” Sean exclaimed.

“You all right?” the big man asked, looking ever so casual and unconcerned. 

“Fine. How are you doing? Didn’t mean to collide with your gut that way”

“It’s all right. But if you’re looking to get close with this belly, you’re going about it the wrong way,” the big man sighed, gently moving his index finger upward to point at his face, without even lifting his arm, “the entrance is up here.”

Sean scraped the sand off of his knees, and looked at the big man’s face. The big man opened his mouth in a big yawn.

“Maybe your cooler wouldn’t weigh so much if you ate some of the food in there.”

“I would, but I’m so content to just lay here. Unmoving… and calm.”

“What, do you want me to feed some of it to you?” Sean said as he walked around the big man to open the cooler.

“Only if you wanted to,”

Sean looked down to see a dozen footlong sandwiches, nestled into one side next to a couple containers of fruit punch, a few gallon bags of pasta salad, twenty or so six-inch long churros, an ensemble of fruit kabobs, a tupperware filled with at least fifty homemade arepas, and some half-melted ice packs. “Who are you trying to feed here? You’ve got like a month's worth of groceries in here!”

“You think I can’t down all of that?”

Sean looked from the cooler to the man’s belly, “I think we’d be here all night if you did.”

The big man chuckled softly, and Sean watched his belly jiggle.

“I tell you what, why don’t you unwrap one of those sandwiches and feed it to me. After that, we’ll see if your opinions change.”

Sean smirked, turned back to the cooler, “Do you have any silverware? It’d be easier to cut the sandwich if I had a knife.”

“No. I’ll eat it whole.”

“Whole? Bud, this is a footlong?”

“And?”

Sean was bemused, but did as the big man wanted, unwrapping a sandwich, taking a seat on the edge of the big man’s towel and gently placing one end of the sandwich into the big man’s waiting maw. The big man casually engulfed the sandwich and Sean felt it slip quickly through his fingers and get sucked down into the big man’s belly. Sean’s eyes opened wide as he looked from the big belly to the man’s face. “How?! That sandwich has been sitting all day. It must have been dry as hell! Ain’t your throat all scratched up?”

“Actually it was fairly soggy, but ah well. Food is food.” After a moment the big man turned his eyes over to Sean who was transfixed by the big belly before him, “Is that it?”

Sean came back to reality, and nodded in admiration, unwrapping another sandwich, and watched it slide into the big man’s digestive abyss. And again and again, the act was done. Sean nibbled on an arepa himself, while dropping them one by one into the big man’s maw and watching them slide down so easily. Sean shook his head in admitted disbelief. He put his ear up to the big man’s belly and heard the raucous symphony of digestive juices getting to work on the already massive meal churning away in the big man’s gut.

“How did you get so big?” Sean asked as he poured some pasta salad into the man’s maw and watched it disappear without a trace down the man’s throat.

“Oh, you know, be lazy, eat big,” the big man said after a slow drawn out breath, while Sean turned to grab some churros, “Number one rule, never say no to willing food.”

“Like free food?”

“I’ll let you think on it,” he said with a great big yawn that stretched his chest and pulled his belly up into the air even more than it had protruded before.

“Is this your usual day at the beach? Waiting for some cute guy to feel bad for you and your hunger, and feed you all this food?”

“Hmm… not all the time… but I will admit guys have been eager to fill this gut before.”

“I’m honestly dumbfounded, I have never before seen anyone eat this much and still have room for more. And I’ve been to a buffet with my competitive eater friend as he broke some day long fast! I mean you’ve still got half of this cooler to go!” Sean said, pulling fruit off the kabobs and dropping them into the big man’s mouth.

The big man swallowed and said, “This cooler is nothing, I’ve eaten four times as much as that thing can hold.”

“Ooh, I’m calling bluff on that one, your stomach would explode!” Sean said, tilting a container of fruit punch into the big man’s mouth and listening to the great big gulps, and watching the lumps in the big man’s throat travel down and out of sight into the uncountable layers of fat. “How you haven’t exploded yet, I may never know. And how can you eat so much of something and not get sick of the same old flavor?”

“Well, avoid palette fatigue by bringing some variety to eat. And if you’ve got a lot of one kind of food, just swallow the whole lot in one go, and you won’t have that flavor on your tongue as long.”

“Swallow the whole lot? So you’re telling me you could swallow the last five footlong sandwiches in one go?” Sean said in amusement, then amended, “You know what, I bet you could.”

“You’re starting to get me,” the big man said, as his gut groaned and gurgled. Five unwrapped sandwiches later, Sean watched as the intense mass of food slid easily into the big man’s throat. The big man’s neck seemed to bulge easily, and his chest puffed out making way for the food to find a comfortable home inside the ballooning gut. Sean rubbed the big man’s gut, having to sit up for his eyeline to be higher than the belly was tall. Sean gently shook the big man’s stomach and marveled at the size, the rotundness, and at this moment, the loudness with which it was rumbling!

“A foodie like you must have the best opinions on food. What’s the best meal you’ve ever had?” Sean asked.

The big man thought for a moment, enjoying the feeling of the food churning in his gut, and the feel of the soft hands of a cute guy rubbing the outside of his belly. “My favorite meal… happened not too far from here. On this very beach maybe a kilometer down the sandbank.”

“Soggy cooler sandwiches are part of your favorite meal ever? Wow we are very different -”

“- I wasn’t finished… I once had a guy offer to feed me leftovers from his cooler. He didn’t think I could eat it all, so I bet him I could eat all of it and him too.”

“Him too? Oh my, you are a greedy big guy, aren’t you,” Sean joked, poking the big man’s gut.

“Hey, he offered. And as I said, never turn down willing food.”

“Wait, so you’re telling me you actually ate a guy?”

“Oh yeah, he was the best part,” the big man smiled contemplatively, “Never had someone so excited to become food, practically dove right down my throat and into my gut; it was like an internal massage.” The big man paused for a moment and all that could be heard were the crashing of the waves in the rising moonlight and the gurgling of his belly. “I continue to eat big to remember that little guy, make sure this big belly stays bigger and better just how he wanted it to.”

“Well then, it appears I have discovered the elusive land shark, just waiting for a meal to walk into his midst,” Sean joked, while feeding the last of the churros to the big man, and rubbing his gut more. Sean turned to the cooler and saw nothing was left but tupperware containers and freezer bags.

“No more food?”

“Nothing else in the cooler,” Sean scratched the big man’s belly, stood up, threw his leg over the side of it and pretended to sit on it like a seat, “everything made it into this great big gut of yours!” Sean fingered the big man’s belly button and realized all five of his fingers could nestle easily inside of it, “The rabbit hole goes deep!”

“Well, thanks for feeding me that food. I was wasting away over here,” the big man said, raising his arm for the first time the whole evening and giving his belly a hearty slap, causing ripples in his belly fat. There was a pause as they shared a smile and some eye contact.

“It’s getting late, I should probably head home, but it was nice to meet you, big guy,” Sean said, dismounting the big man’s belly, and turning his gaze away, “But hey if I see you and your cooler around, maybe we’ll do this again sometime.”

The big man sighed, “Happy to make your acquaintance. Hope you enjoyed the sunset,”

“Enjoyed more than that,” Sean said. He noticed the big man glance from his eyes down on his body for a moment. Sean then realized that his swim shorts were a little tighter than they were when he put them on. Perhaps he liked straddling that big man’s belly more than he thought.

They waved goodbye, and Sean started walking back up the sandy beach, thinking back on the night and feeling his heart beat faster as his excitement swelled in his brain and body.

The big man laid back for a few moments, and counted off in his head, “Three… two… one and three quarters…”

“So did you actually swallow that guy whole? Like one big gulp?” Sean asked, suddenly back at the big man’s side.

The big man, lazily opened his eyes and turned his head to meet Sean’s eyes, “One big gulp,” he said, nodding slightly.

“And then what… you digested him? A whole human body?”

The big man paused and sighed slowly, “You’ve been listening to my gut churn all day. What do you think it does with food?”

“And he enjoyed that?”

“For quite a while. I think he fell asleep at some point and… well, became part of my belly fat. Simple as that.”

“That’s crazy,” Sean said, turning to go again.

“Nothing crazy about the miracle of digestion. Simple science.”

Sean turned back again, and shoved his face suddenly into the big man’s belly. He listened to the churning and felt his heart beat through the thick layers of fat. He straightened up and took a deep breath and looked down at the big man’s face.

“Yes?” the big man sighed lazily.

“You probably ate like a hundred pounds already, there’s no way you could eat me, too.”

“I never said anything about eating you,” the big man said.

“But you couldn’t eat me - if you wanted - be for real,” Sean prodded.

The big man was tired of this foreplay, “I already know the answer to that. Do you want to find out?” The big man opened his mouth as if you yawn, but let it hang open in suspense.

Sean let out a little laugh, “No, I’m just joking… No,” he said, poking the big belly. “Who am I kidding, yes, I do, I want to go in there.” 

The big man closed his eyes lazily for a moment, but raised his eyebrows. Sean straddled the big belly once again, leaned forward to peer into the man’s face. The big man’s eyes fluttered open and gave a slight nod. Sean gripped the man’s belly for support, then tilted his head down to meet the big man’s open maw. He felt his hot breath on his facial hair tingle. Sean took a deep breath then felt his face engulfed by a warm, wet tongue, that pulled him invitingly forward, exploring his neck, then his nipples and chest. His head and squeezed tightly into the big man’s esophagus, and Sean felt his arms begin to pin down to his side and crush his chest a little bit. He felt his legs fall backward over the man’s big belly, and his torso tilted down at an angle from the big man’s belly to mouth as it was sucked forward deeper and deeper into the big man’s body. Sean’s hard on scraped against the big man’s belly until it was suspended in midair over the big man’s chest for a moment before being engulfed by the big man’s mouth and squeezed affectionately. Sean’s own belly squirmed with pleasure as the big scratchy tongue of the big man tickled his abdomen. Sean straightened out his feet in elation and his muscles seized, as he felt his head squeeze through a sphincter into the big man’s stomach. He still held his breath as his face was surrounded by a thick soup of digesting cooler food. 

The big man gently raised a hand to his gut and rubbed it slowly, feeling it stretch and gurgle like it had scarcely done since that day long ago at this very beach, when the other had slid down into his belly. He tasted Sean’s skin and noted its salt flavor, from sweat and ocean water combined, and he felt his body yearn for a drink, enticing him to swallow faster and more hungrily. He felt Sean squirm his torso inside his throat, and pull himself deeper into his belly. He lazily opened his eyes to watch Sean’s legs flip about in the air, brushing against his belly and flinging some sand into the air. He felt a soft pressure in the middle of his chest, and realized that Sean was pulling his arms and hands down further into his stomach. Sean pushed against the big man’s insides with his hands, not to prevent himself from sinking deeper inside, but to pull his torso and legs into the big man’s stomach even faster. The big man felt the pressure in his throat ease and his stomach relaxed to make more room as Sean’s legs slipped down his throat. He tasted the scratchy sand clinging to Sean’s hairy calves, and swallowed hard to pull the rest of Sean in quickly.

Sean felt his toes pass from the cool night air into the hot, salivating throat of the big man, and took a deep breath as his face surfaced into an air pocket at the top of the big man’s stomach. He squirmed as the last of his legs passed smoothly through the big man’s throat and into the soup of so many meals churning at once. Once his entire body was encased by stomach walls and digestive soup, Sean curled his legs underneath him and rested his body against the mass of fat surrounding him. Both the big man and Sean took deep breaths and gained their composure. Sean felt the hot liquid around him and imagined he was in the most exclusive hot tub in the world. Fortunately the immense supper that had preceded his own body becoming food masked the scent of digestive juices, so he enjoyed the unique fruit punch with a hint of sweat aroma. He felt the big man’s stomach kneading against his legs and chest, and above his head. His enclosure seemed to shrink a little bit, like the stomach was giving him a strange hug, willing him to give himself over and become belly fat.

After a long pause, the big man drew breath and spoke, “You still with us there, bud?”

“Yeah! Don’t think I’ll ever not be,” Sean joked.

“How are you feeling, then?”

“Like a piece of meat! But in a good way…”

The big man shrugged with his eyes, “In a way you kind of are… Well, relax, eat a churro, and enjoy the ride.”

“I already did! Can’t believe you actually did it! You weren’t kidding.”

“I never do… I never do.”

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can we get a sequel to the story of reader liking Pavitr, but Pavitr and Gayatri are happily together? Like Hobie or Gwen visit Pavitr and the reader meets them and they form a bond? romantic or platonic, reader just needs a buddy.

Thank you for everyone who wanted a part 2! Also this is kinda a long one so…I still hope you enjoy. 🦦

@sh-tposter2021 @thebiggestsimpoutthere @ii01vp

Part 1

It had been several weeks since you learnt of Pavitr and Gayatri’s relationship, and it’s been just as long since you’ve distanced yourself from Pavitr. While his absence was greatly felt and while there were times where you felt like being a hypocrite and run back to him, you had to remind yourself of why you were doing this in the first place; for the betterment of your own health and to remind yourself of who you were before ever meeting Pavitr because once upon a time there were chapters of your life that didn’t involve him.

You had to frequently remind yourself that you’ll be fine without Pavitr as he was seemingly fine without you now he had the prettiest girl in Mumbattan hanging off of his arm to fawn over, and all without having to take into account of how you felt about the public displays of affection that’d pierce your heart over. And over. And over again.

And yet while you’ve lead yourself to believe that Pavitr has seamlessly moved on without you, what you didn’t know was that Pavitr had been wanting you to meet his other friends, Hobie and Gwen, for a really long time now and even went as far as to set up the whole thing; only for it to come crushing down on him days later when you walked away from him with tears in your eyes and a forced smile. So when the day of your supposed get together came, Pavitr genuinely didn’t know what to tell Hobie and Gwen when he saw them. He didn’t want to send them away, that would be considered rude and disrespectful of the time that they had both set aside to be here, yet he didn’t want them to stay if you weren’t going to be there.

Fortunately and unfortunately for Pavitr, Gwen and Hobie could tell that during the period between their last visit to Mumbattan and now, something had to have happened for Pavitr’s demeanour to drastically change. ‘So where’s this y/n you’ve been talking our ear of about?’ Hobie asked, looking about the room as though you were going to pop out at them.

‘They’re not coming,’ Pavitr solemnly told them, ‘I’d like to think we’re still friends but it’s been so long since I’ve last seen them, that now…now I’m not so sure. I don’t want to loose my best fiend but I’m pretty certain they don’t want to talk to me.’ Pavitr then looked between his friends almost helplessly as he fiddles with the friendship bracelet that you made him out of habit. ‘All I wanna know is what I’ve done and how I can fix it.’ Gwen stepped forward and pressed a comforting hand on her friend’s shoulder. ‘I’m sure they’re not mad at you Pav but I’m assuming they just wanted a little space to themselves.’ She told him but it didn’t seem to have helped at all.

‘We can go look for them and get the answer out of them that way?’ Hobbie said but before Pavitr could answer, he was reminded that he had a date with Gayatri later. The thought of his beautiful girlfriend made all his daily worries seep away from his mind as though she was the cleansing he required, there wasn’t a day where Pavitr didn’t count himself lucky in being able to date the most beautiful, amazing, most funniest girl; and he never fails to tells her every day how happy he was to be with her and be able to have the honour of calling her his. ‘Oh I can’t, I’ve got a date with my girlfriend Gayatri soon.’ Pavitr told Hobie.

‘Then how about me and Hobie go talk to them on your behalf?’ Gwen pitched.

‘But we don’t know where they’ll be right now.’ Hobie countered. ‘We’d waste the day away trying to look for them like we’re a bunch of headless chickens.’

‘We might not be on speaking terms but I do know where they’d like to be whenever they want to be left alone.’ Pavitr pipped up before telling the pair of the exact location before they parted ways; Hobie and Gwen to look for you whilst Pavitr went on his date with Gayatri.

Following Pavitr’s instructions, it didn’t take Hobie and Gwen long to find you sat on your lonesome upon a barren rooftop aside from a few weeds and bunches of moss that were growing up and through the cracks within the concrete. One look upon your worn out face told the pair that whatever happened between you and Pavitr took it’s toll on you a lot harder then it did Pavitr; not that they were saying that he wasn’t suffering but he had Gayatri, whereas you probably only had Pavitr to fall back on in times like this but now you probably had nobody. Both Hobie and Gwen were very familiar with the feeling of having nobody in your corner, so it was fairly easy for them to recognise the signs.

‘Is that them?’ Gwen asked Hobie, watching you as you looked out over the liveliness that filled the streets below with the vaguest look upon your face. Hobie shrugs, ‘must be, otherwise Pav wouldn’t have told us to come here if that weren’t the case.’

‘They look-‘

‘Lonely, yeah I agree.’ Hobie finished Gwen’s thought before he started moving towards you when Gwen called out to him. ‘What’re you doing?’ She asks and he looks back at her and said, ‘being a descent human being.’ Before continuing on his way towards you;only to be joined by Gwen not a moment later.

You weren’t fully aware of their presence until you felt Hobie seat himself at your left as Gwen seated herself at your right, but even even then you didn’t have it within you to remove yourself, the company of strangers felt nice to your aching soul because after all humans are social creatures that thrived off of having company. ‘Hey.’ Gwen said, catching your attention first. ‘Hi, I’m sorry but I don’t believe I’ve seen either of you here before.’ You told her, not wanting to come off as rude. ‘You’re right but we’re just paying our friend Pavitr a visit but he’s on a date right now and told us to come hang with you.’ Hobie answered and upon hearing Pavitr’s name, you tensed; Something both Hobie and Gwen both took notice.

‘If you’re here to get me into talking to him you can think again,’ you told them rather sternly, ‘I ain’t getting my heart broken twice.’ You added softer this time as you rested your head atop of your arms that were atop of your knees that you had tucked tight against your chest. ‘What did you mean by getting your heart broken twice?’ Gwen asked, looking over at Hobie who was already looking at her. You chuckled humourlessly as you felt tears once again well up in your eyes, you genuinely thought you were past crying over him but it seemed as though the wound your heart sustained was still bleeding. ‘I had a crush on him, Pavitr,’ you began, ‘but it was obvious that he liked Gayatri more and I don’t blame him, she’s gorgeous, funny, cool, sociable, smart and sweet. It just got to the point where being with him while he was still openly pinning after her was physically hurting me and I didn’t want to complicate things all because I can’t regulate my feelings.’ You finished, feeling slightly better to have finally let it out rather then inside like you had.

So this was the thing that happened between you and their friend. You liked him to the point where you selflessly removed yourself so that your feelings didn’t jeopardise his dream relationship with Gayatri but in the process, you cut yourself off from the only support you ever had in your life and now you were paying the price by suffering through all your emotions on your own. ‘I’m sorry, neither of you should have to be on the receiving end of my grievances.’ You said after a couple minutes of silence, but that soon came to an abrupt halt when Hobie slugged his arm over your shoulder and brought you into his side as Gwen reached out to hold your hand within her own. ‘Don’t ever say sorry for things that ain’t under your control,’ Hobie started, squeezing your shoulder, ‘and besides we’re the ones who asked about it in the first place. So don’t ever feel as though you have to apologise for everything, alright?’ You hummed in response.

‘Hobie’s right, I’m sorry that I made you brought this up.’ Gwen told you, just about to let go of your hand, but you were quick to tighten your hold in a silent plea for her to not go as you shot her a weak smile. ‘It’s not your fault,’ you told her, ‘it was bound to come up and if anything I’m glad you did because had you not I was beginning to get scared that it would come out at the wrong place at the wrong time. So instead I should be thanking you, both of you and I haven’t gotten either of your names yet.’

‘Oh right, well I’m Gwen Stacy,’ Gwen introduced herself before gesturing towards the lad who still had you coddled into his side, ‘and this is my friend Hobie Brown.’

‘Hi.’ You said tearfully as a smile beamed across your face.

‘Hiya yourself.’ Hobie replied as he wiped away some of your tears. ‘Despite crying you’re heart out, you still find it within you to smile. Now that’s a power I ain’t ever seen before and I find it admirable because it tells me that not only are you selfless but strong too.’ He adds and you couldn’t help but feel more tears arise to the surface, causing you to avert you gaze. ‘I’m sorry.’ You said weakly as Gwen felt her heart break for you as Hobie held onto you tighter whilst softly shushing you. ‘Please don’t ever apologise for having emotions.’ Gwen told you as an idea popped into her head as she adds on, ‘would you like to getaway with us? Do something to take your mind off of Pavitr?’ You looked at her before looking at Hobie who, in his mind, had already taken you under his wing and was on board with whatever Gwen had in mind.

‘Only if it’s alright with you guys, I don’t want to intrude on anythin-‘ before you could finish your sentence, Hobie had already begun to stand up before then proceeding to dragging you up along with him, whilst also managing in keeping you under his arm. ‘It’s too late, you’re apart of us now y/n, there is no such thing as intruding in anything when you’re with us.’ Hobie states as Gwen caught up with you two with a smile on her face, revealing her gap tooth as she nudged your side. ‘Your stuck with us now, how terrible is that?’ She joked and you couldn’t help but smile back at her, feeling deep inside that everything was going to be okay now that you had Hobie and Gwen. ‘Yeah, what a terrible fate I’ve been doomed to.’ You joked equally.

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Call It What You Want (Superstar Chapter 2)

'Cause my baby's fit like a daydream

Walkin' with his head down, I'm the one he's walkin' to

So call it what you want, yeah, call it what you want to 

 Sequel to Superstar where the Reader and Roy Kent have their first date.

Roy Kent x Reader

5.7k words

Warnings: language (because Roy Kent), adults drinking adult drinks

Note: We’re in a parallel universe where Roy & Keeley never date and Keeley is in a healthy relationship with Jamie. Also, this came out a bit longer than I expected but dang it was fun to write!

The tension came to a head during lunch that Friday, our office door closed as we both sat at my desk, eating falafel out of the foil containers Roy had smuggled in past Ted and Beard. As I took a bite, I snuck a glance at Roy, who was gazing at the orange sticky note he’d stuck above my computer the day before:

~

It had been a week since Roy Kent had discovered the shrine to himself in my childhood bedroom. The following days had been sprinkled with autographs left on any papers that didn’t look too important, teasing pleas for no pictures during work hours, and one particularly mocking offer to save his beard trimmings the next time he shaved. But it was also filled with lingering stares in the hall, chocolate muffins left on my desk each morning, lunches shared in our tiny office, and the occasional smile and wink on the pitch when no one else was looking. A few times, Roy even brushed his fingers against mine when we squeezed by each other in doorways. With each small touch or moment of longing eye contact, I felt myself wondering how long it would take for one of us to break.

To my biggest fan

XOXO Roy Kent

“When’s your mum’s birthday?”

God, would I ever get used to his out of nowhere questions? “Why, d’you want to crash her birthday dinner too?”

A snort flew out of his nose as he turned his attention back to his lunch. “No. Just wanted to make sure you’re not busy tonight before I ask you out.”

Look up the signs of a heart attack when you get home, you might be having one. “Oh, really?” I tried to keep my breathing steady. “You think I’m the kind of girl who has no plans on a Friday night?”

Roy rolled his eyes and stuffed another bit of falafel into his mouth. “I think,” he said between bites, “you’re the kind of girl who’s gonna be really fucking annoying on our date tonight.” He paused to meet my gaze. “Unless you’ve already got plans with David Beckham? Or Lionel Messi?”

Another one of his recurring jokes that week was asking about my interest in other football players. I narrowed my eyes. “Unfortunately Becks was busy tonight,” I played along. “So, I guess I’m all yours.”

“I like the sound of that.”

A heat filled the air as Roy used his foot to roll my chair towards him, opening his knees slightly so I could come close to him. My knees hit the inside of his thighs and our noses practically touched; the back of my neck prickled. This was the closest contact we’d had since our kiss upstairs at my parents’ house. His eyes searched mine, thick eyebrows raised. My heart hammered as I leaned forward-

“Roy? Hey Roy?”

My chair was swiftly kicked back into place before Ted opened the office door, his head bent over his phone. We both quickly turned our attention back to our lunches, as if eating falafel took a lot of effort. By the time Ted looked up, Roy and I looked like we’d just been eating in silence- which was actually completely believable.

Ted’s face lit up when he saw me. “Oh, there you are. Was wondering where you’d gotten to.” He turned his attention to Roy, then paused when he saw the food in our hands. “Aw, you’re already eating.” He snapped his fingers. “I was gonna invite y’all go get some fish ‘n’ chips with me ‘n’ Beard.” He shrugged. “Well, enjoy your…” He studied the bowls a moment. “Meat? Whatever it is, looks tasty.” With an oblivious wave he turned on his heel and left, calling out for Coach Beard to follow him.

After a moment of listening to the sound of their receding footprints, followed by blessed silence, Roy finally looked back at me. “Well, he fucking ruined that moment. So, I’ll get you at seven?”

“Yeah.” I cleared my throat. “I’ll text you my address.”

“No need.” Roy grinned. “Don’t forget, you’re an easy stalking target.”

I stuck my tongue out at him, amazed at how comfortable I had grown with Roy “he’s here, he’s there, he’s every fucking where” Kent over the past week. “I turned off my Snapchat location, thanks to you. So be nice or else no address.”

He raised an eyebrow at me. “Fine. Then you can just meet me at the restaurant, and we can miss out on the whole ‘you open the door and my jaw drops when I see you’ moment.”

We narrowed our eyes at each other for a moment before breaking out into matching grins.

“Pick you up at seven,” he repeated.

~

From the moment I got home from work until the moment I heard a knock on my door, my hands shook and my heart hammered. I was incredibly grateful that Roy had used the word “date” in our conversation that afternoon; if he hadn’t, I probably would have spent hours agonizing over what the evening ahead meant. Even with the confirmation that this was indeed a date, I was a mess as I agonized over the perfect outfit and fought with my hair, desperate to look special compared with what Roy saw each day at work. When the sound of knocking reached my ears at 6:59, the tremble in my hands spread to my whole body.

Relax. You know he likes you. He wouldn’t have kissed you and asked you out and tried to kiss you again if he didn’t.

An involuntary gulp escaped when I opened the door and saw Roy standing in front of me. He looked really good in his fitted black slacks and black button-down shirt. He looked even better when he smiled at me, his brown eyes traveling down my frame slowly.

“Fuck,” he whispered, eyebrows raised. “You look great. Really fucking great.” He held his hand out to me, his eyes sparkling. “Are you ready then?”

We walked out to his car, neither of us saying a word. When we got to the car, he opened the door and helped me in before climbing in on his side. I shifted in my seat and cleared my throat.

“So, what’s the plan, Kent?”

“Figured we’d go sit in our office and eat takeaway,” he answered as he started the car. “Y’know, same shit we do every day.”

“Romantic,” I snarked.

Keeping one hand on the wheel, he took my hand, interlocking our fingers. “Fine, nix that plan then. How about drinks and then a late dinner? Just no fucking work talk please.”

I stared at our hands, wondering if he could feel my pounding pulse through my fingertips. “Sounds great,” I agreed, giving his hand a squeeze.

It was a somewhat quiet drive, but a comfortable one. I’d turned on the radio to some pop station, and Roy drummed out the beat with his fingers, tapping the back of my hand rhythmically. With his attention on the road, I allowed myself the opportunity to unabashedly stare at him. He was still Roy Kent: grizzled, dark, something of a brooding aura surrounding him. But he looked different that he normally did in the office, more like he had that evening at my parents’ house. His shoulders were relaxed against the driver’s seat, and his mouth was curved ever-so-slightly upwards, a shadow of a smile. As if he could feel the heat of my gaze, his eyes shifted off the road and towards me, causing his mouth to curve even further upwards.

“Admiring something?” he asked, clearly amused.

A bit embarrassed to be caught staring, I turned my eyes back to the road. “Just… taking in the sights.”

“The sights,” he repeated, nodding his head. “I’d say to take a picture since it’ll last longer, but I think you’ve got enough fucking pictures hanging at your mum’s house, wouldn’t you agree?”

My embarrassment deepened. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

Roy gave my hand a squeeze. “Nope. Only because I like seeing you blush so much.”

We finally arrived at the pub, with me refusing to look at Roy’s smug face for the rest of the car ride. He quickly got out of the car and jogged to my side, opening my door, and holding my hand to help me down.

“D’you really need such a massive car?” I teased as his hand settled in the small of my back.

A playful huff came out of Roy’s mouth. “Oi, don’t make fun of a man’s car. Otherwise, you’ll be walking home.”

“Aww, but how will you walk me to my door and kiss me at the end of the night?” I asked with a pretend pout, crossing my arms to give the full bratty effect.

Roy gave a hearty chuckle as we entered the dark pub. “You’re a presumptuous thing, you think you’re getting a kiss on the first date?”

I rolled my eyes as Roy guided me to a secluded corner booth, letting me slide in before following me into the seat. “Oh, I’m sorry, can you only kiss a girl when you’re surrounded pictures by yourself? Because I stopped carrying your photo in my wallet ages ago. Might still have a couple saved on my mobile though, would you like me to check?”

Roy stared at me hard for a moment, his dark eyes practically drilling holes into my brain. “You talk way too fucking much, anyone ever tell you that?”

Before I could come up with some clever response, he leaned forward and pressed his lips against mine. I could only squeak weakly in response as my eyes fluttered closed. This kiss was a bit rougher than the one we’d shared a week ago, with my lips parting to mirror Roy’s own slightly open mouth. It ended entirely too soon, with Roy smirking at me.

“That ought to shut you up for a fucking minute,” he chuckled as an older woman in an apron approached, a knowing smile on her face.

“How’re you Roy?” the woman asked casually, although her eyes were on me.

Roy grunted in response, suddenly reverting to his usual monosyllabic self. “Fine. Usual, please.”

The woman hummed and raised her eyebrows at me. “And you sweetheart?”

I quickly ordered my drink, offering up a couple of pleases and thank yous. With drink orders out of the way, I finally let myself look around the pub. It was dimly lit, with a couple televisions above the bar. There was a mostly older crowd, with most other customers having at least a decade on my parents. There were darts on a far wall and a foosball table near another wall. A jukebox in one corner played a Vann Morrison song that I vaguely recognized. The place was a far cry from the loud, crowded, sweaty clubs my mates usually tried to drag me to. If I had to pick between the two, I’d take this pub any day of the week- especially with Roy Kent by my side.

When I turned my attention back to Roy, he was already staring at me, his mouth in a straight line for the first time all night. “Is this alright?” he asked bluntly. “You weren’t expecting champagne and caviar, were you?”

Behind the hard expression on his face, I could see anxiety in his eyes. My mind wandered to the women I’d seen him with in magazines and online… models, influencers, a couple B-list actresses, none sticking around for more than a couple months. I’d even read one blog post about a woman who stole his watch before ending the relationship. It dawned on me that most of the women he dated would probably not be okay with a place like this. Despite the almost-scowl on Roy’s face, I felt myself melt at the realization that he was nervous about what I thought of the place.

“I think,” I said after a moment, “that this place is great.” I laid my hand on his, feeling him relax instantly beneath my touch. “You must come here a lot if you have a usual?”

“Couple of times a month,” he admitted, his facial expression softening. “The old geezers know who I am, but they leave me alone for the most part, sometimes give me shit about Richmond when the team fucks up. Never have to worry about them posting pictures of me on Twitter or some shit. And the barkeep, Rose, she doesn’t always tally up all my beers correctly and undercharges me all the fuckin’ time.” His smile returned. “So at Christmas I like to clear a tab or two, to make up for the free shit I get.” He nodded to himself. “It’s nice to just come here and have a beer, not have to worry about being Roy Kent, y’know?” He squinted at me for a moment. “Alright, now you kiss me, because I’m talking way too fucking much.”

I laughed as the older woman- Rose- returned with our drinks. She smiled at me as she set down my glass. “He must like you,” she mused, her eyes darting to Roy. “Never brings his dates here. ’less you count that pretty-boy soccer player. Went on that bloody reality show. The one they sing that stupid shark song about?”

“Jamie Tartt?” I offered, eyebrows raised. I turned to Roy, whose eyes were practically behind his head. “Do I have competition? Because Jamie Tartt is definitely hotter than me.”

Roy dramatically threw his head back and let out a massive, growling sigh as Rose walked away, her chuckles echoing behind her. “Don’t ever call Tartt hot, I swear I’ll cut my ears off.”

“Relax, van Gogh,” I scoffed. “I won’t get jealous of Jamie if you don’t.”

“Hmmf.” Roy eyed me carefully, taking a sip of his beer. “Who’s hotter, me or Tartt?” he challenged. The tiny upturn at the corner of his mouth assured me that he was teasing.

“Definitely Jamie,” I deadpanned, taking a sip from my own glass. “I’m only here because he and Cristiano Ronaldo didn’t call me back.”

Roy shook his head and smiled, sliding his hand out from under mine and placing his on top. “Just so you know,” he murmured, leaning in close. “Ronaldo’s a fuckin’ prick.”

Before I could laugh, he pressed his lips to mine, mirroring the kiss from earlier, but gentler, slower now, full of affection. My eyes fluttered closed as I kissed him back, the little voice in my head unable to form a coherent sentence.

Roy Kent kissing me it’s Roy Kent he’s here he’s there he’s kissing me Roy Kent

~

“Fuck.” Roy gazed at his phone. “We were supposed to be at the restaurant a fucking hour ago.” He grimaced as his eyes met mine. “Had a reservation and everything.”

My fingers traced the rim of the glass in front of me as I shook my head. “Roy, it’s fine,” I laughed.

We had spent the last couple of hours- and rounds of drinks- cuddled in our booth, cracking jokes and sharing stories. Roy told me about his sister and his little niece and reluctantly explained his workout routine with Jamie Tartt, while I shared stories about my ridiculous brothers and gave a detailed ranking of Jane Austen’s leading men. The way his arm wrapped around the back of the booth and his hand grazed my shoulder made missing the reservation worth it.

Roy wrinkled his nose. “I should feed you,” he argued. “’d be a shit date if I didn’t.” He glanced at his phone again. “D’you like pizza?”

Twenty minutes later, we were sitting across from each other, sodas in front of us, Roy’s pensive expression tinted red by the neon glow advertising Fresh Pizza.

“Can I tell you somethin’?”

I nodded, sipping my Coke through a straw. “Hmm?”

“This is the most fun I’ve ever had on a date,” he murmured. “And the first time I feel like I’m with someone who’s interested in being with me, not just being seen out some fucking footballer.” He gave a small nod. “So, thanks. Really, thanks.”

Heat rose in my cheeks as his eyes bore into mine. “Honestly, Roy,” I breathed. “Sharing an office with you is the best part of my workday.”

A grin flashed on his face. “Oi, we said no work talk.”

“Oh, shove off,” I mumbled, giving him a soft kick under the table as a young man in a red polo shirt brought us our pizza. I grabbed a slice and began to nibble on it as the teen employee did a double take at Roy before going back behind the counter. “Take a compliment, Kent.”

“Compliment,” he repeated gruffly, grabbing his own slice. “Is that something I’ll have to get used to? Being complimented?”

I tilted my head and swallowed a bite. “What d’you mean?”

He shrugged and took a sip of his Coke. “Gotta know what dating you involves. Spoiler alert, after tomorrow’s game I’m going to ask you if you’d like to go out again sometime.” His eyes darted away. “Hope that’s alright,” he grumbled, that nervous look in his behind his expression again.

I gave another kick under the table, much gentler this time. “You better ask me out again,” I teased. “Because this is the best date I’ve had in a long time.”

“You must’ve been on some fucking shit dates,” he joked, his eyes meeting mine. “Guess I’ve got to make up for that.”

For a moment, we just sat there, smiling at each other under the buzz of the neon light, slices of pizza in our hands. If two months ago someone had told me I would be on a date with Roy Kent, sipping drinks in a small pub, eating pizza in a hole-in-the-wall shop, I would have never believed it. But there I was, unable to look away from the brown eyes I’d spent years dreaming about, making him laugh and smile. And honestly, having the best time I’d had in a while.

The sudden preoccupied look on Roy’s face brought me out of my dreamy bubble. “Oi, there is something we should talk about.” The air suddenly felt heavy.

“Hmm?” Good, stay cool, don’t act nervous.

He took a deep breath, exhaling with a tiny growl. “Don’t take this the wrong way- I feel like a fucking prick saying this out loud-” He groaned, shrugging in defeat. “Would you be okay with, I dunno, not telling anyone about this-” He gestured between us. “-just for a bit?” A grimace now completely covered his bearded face. “It’s not like I’m embarrassed, or like I want to date anyone else-”

“That’s a relief,” I teased. My cheeks turned warm seeing him so flustered; it was endearing. “I thought you were completely ashamed to be seen with me and wanted to see if you had a shot with Jamie Tartt.”

That smile finally returned. “Come on, I’m being fucking serious.” He reached across the table and grasped my free hand. “Look, I really like being with you. I feel less pissed off at work when you’re around. And I want to see you outside of our fucking office. But you’ve seen the muppets we work with. They’ll never leave us the fuck alone once they find out we’re seeing each other. And I’d like to be in, I dunno, a little fucking bubble or something for a bit. Just while we’re getting to know each other and seeing where this goes.” His thumb stroked my hand. “Is that okay?”

The earnestness in his eyes nearly stopped my heart. “Of course,” I assured him, nudging his foot with mine. “I like the idea of being in a bubble with you.”

~

It was nearly midnight when Roy walked me up to my flat, his arm wrapped around my waist. After pizza we had gone walking around aimlessly, neither of us quite willing to say goodnight to the other. But my gentle reminder to Roy that Richmond had a game the next day was enough for him to sigh dramatically and agree to call it a night.

We paused in front of my door, turning to face each other as I fiddled with my keys nervously. Despite all the hand holding and flirting and shared kisses, I still felt a flutter in my stomach when I saw the fondness in his eyes as he gazed down at me. I couldn’t remember the last time I saw such warmth aimed in my direction; the fact that it was Roy Kent was just a bonus.

“Think I could give you a ride to work tomorrow?” he asked softly, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear.

I grinned up at him. “What happened to keeping things quiet at work?”

He shrugged, his hand still lingering beside my face. “Do I sound like a fucking prat if I say I just can’t wait to see you again?”

“Just a little,” I teased, leaning my cheek into the palm of his hand, not caring that he could feel the warmth of my face. “But I like it. Pick me up at 10?”

“How about 9? I’ll buy you tea and a muffin.”

I laughed and pressed myself a smidge closer to him. “Bribery works wonders on me. I’m in.”

A small kiss landed on my forehead. “I love that you’re easily bought.” Another kiss on my cheek. “Guess I should let you head inside before some nosy fucking neighbor sees us.”

“We’d be trending on Twitter within the hour. Roy Kent and Random seen outside flat the night before Richmond game.”

“The fucking press’d definitely blame you if we lost tomorrow.” A kiss on my other cheek. “So, we better say goodnight.”

I nodded, not bothering to hide my smile. “Guess we should.”

His mouth found mine for the millionth time that night, assuring me that this would not be the last time he’d be walking me home. A wide smile filled his face when he finally pulled away. “Good night then.”

“Goodnight, Roy,” I answered, planting one last peck on his lips.

~

Roy’s car now felt familiar as we rode to the Dog Track. I leaned my chair into a comfortable position and fiddled with the radio until I found a station playing an hour of 90s hits. I ripped off a bit of the giant chocolate muffin that sat on my lap and tossed it into my mouth, reveling in the brief domestic bliss before we had to act professionally in front of everyone.

“Gimme a bite,” Roy mumbled, eyes on the road. I ripped of another piece and popped it into his open mouth. “Thanks,” was his muffled reply as we pulled into the still empty parking lot. “And thanks for riding here with me,” he muttered, clearing his throat. “It was nice.”

A smile crept across my face. “Thanks for offering,” I answered. “We should probably head on in, I’ve got some things to do in the office before everyone comes in.”

The halls were eerily quiet, only a few cleaning crew milling about, offering nods and soft “good mornings”. I flipped on the lights in the changing room and coaching offices, quickly setting to work as Roy leaned on Beard’s desk, watching me with that thoughtful look on his face.

I started my Game Day routine: leaving our report on the opposing team neatly on Ted’s desk, right next to the playbook that I pulled off his bookshelf, updating the league standings on the whiteboard next to Beard’s desk, noting the possible rank changes based on game outcomes, setting up the coffee maker to their specifications so all they had to do was hit the Start button when they walked into the office. Between tasks I paused for the newest addition to my routine: stealing kisses from Roy, taking full advantage of the empty building.

He followed me into our office so I could organize my things; Game Day had quickly become my favorite part of my job. During games, I would stand by the coaches with my tablet, keeping track of different statistics: goals, passes, saves, anything and everything the coaches could analyze later to improve their plans. Ted kept repeating something about me “putting the Excel in excellent” when I first presented my detailed spreadsheet to the coaches, so I knew this was valuable data to them. It was the part of my job I took most seriously.

And I loved that it allowed me to be on the sidelines with Roy all game long.

“Are you going to be able to focus out there today?” Roy teased softly, wrapping his arms around my waist from behind me.

“Are you?” I shot back, leaning into him as I tapped away on my tablet, setting up my new spreadsheet. “I’m working, all you’ve been doing is staring at me.”

He laughed and pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “Trust me, as soon as those pricks show up, I’ll be my usual grumpy self.”

As if on cue, the sound of Coach Lasso’s voice echoed from down the hall. Roy immediately released me and threw himself into his chair, planting his feet on his desk and pulling out his cell phone; to anyone who just happened in, it looked as though he had been completely ignoring my existence, rather than holding me close. I shook my head and grinned to myself as Ted and Beard entered their office.

“Mornin’!” Ted called, poking his head through our shared door. “Look at you early birds. Y’all are just a couple of peas in a pod.” He pointed at me, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “Thanks again for figuring out the Keurig. You’re a k-cup K-Pop star.”

I smiled and nodded, still unsure about what to do when the man complimented me. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Roy smirking behind his phone.

Ted noticed too. “You’re looking downright chipper this morning, Roy. Anything special you wanna share with the class?”

Roy’s smirk faded, his eyes still on his phone. “No.”

“No worries, I’m just happy you’re happy.” Ted was completely unphased; the guy was truly remarkable. He turned back to me. “Say, could I bother you to run some papers up to Rebecca’s office? Get some steps in before we head to the field.”

“Sure,” I agreed, setting down my tablet. “And it’s ‘pitch’, Coach.”

Ted nodded. “Right, right. ‘Pitch’.”

After a few more Lasso-isms, I was on my up to Rebecca’s office, carrying a folder filled with papers. I had shot Roy a wink before I left our office and was awarded the smallest of smiles, which was enough to make me practically skip down the hall, past the players making their way to the changing room. I smiled and waved at each of them, feeling excited to have a small role in this special team.

“Come in,” Rebecca called when I knocked on her door. She and Keeley Jones were sitting on her couch, Keeley adorable as ever in pigtails and a fluffy sweater, Rebecca the picture of class in her dress and heels. The women smiled and waved me in.

“Hey!” Keeley called, jumping up to give me a small hug. “How’re you doing? I tried to call you last night, but you didn’t pick up.” Within two days of me starting work at Richmond, Keeley had decided that we were meant to be friends, an offer I was more than happy to accept. She pouted at me playfully. “Were you out getting some?”

My ears burned. “Yeah, right,” I scoffed. “My phone’s been acting up lately, sorry about that.” I reached around to hand Rebecca the folder. “From Ted,” I told her, trying desperately to avoid the topic Keeley had brought up.

Rebecca opened the folder and glanced at it. “Shit, I should look at this,” she muttered to herself. She nodded towards Keeley. “Why don’t you head to our seats to watch warm up? Just don’t wolf-whistle at the boys too much, hmm? Save some for the game.”

Keeley gave a salute to Rebecca and linked her arm with mine. “Shall we?”

We strolled down the hall, Keeley talking a mile a minute about the party she had tried to invite me to the night before. “There were lots of real fit guys there,” she gushed, knocking her hip into mine. “Some of them were even worth talking to. Come on, what’s your type? I need to know what to look out for.”

I cleared my throat. “I don’t really have a-”

“Oi. You forgot this.”

Roy appeared out of nowhere, holding up my tablet, its case covered in Richmond stickers I’d bought the day I had gotten this job. My cheeks were warm as I accepted it, careful not to touch his hand. I could feel Keeley eyeing me curiously.

“Thanks,” I murmured, avoiding Roy’s eyes; I knew that any contact would tempt me to kiss the man.

He seemed to understand completely. “Keeley,” he greeted, giving a short nod to the blonde. He nodded to me now. “See you out there.” He turned and walked towards the doors that led to the pitch.

Once he turned the corner and was out of view, Keeley squealed and grabbed me by the shoulders. “Fuck, you should ask out Roy!”

My eyes widened. “What?”

She nodded, her pigtails bouncing. “Come on. He’s fit, he has a good job, and if anyone ever messed with you, they’d never find the body.” She wiggled my shoulders, waggling her eyebrows. “And the man looks good shirtless,” she added.

As if there wasn’t a shirtless picture of him tapped inside the closet of my old bedroom. I made a quick mental note to take it down and hide it- maybe burn it- before the next time he came over. Surely, he’d be coming over to my parents’ place again sometime? Maybe not anytime soon, but eventually, right?

Whoa there, relax. Don’t get so ahead of yourself.

“Come off it, Keels,” I scoffed. “I’m not asking out Roy Kent.” Well, you’re not lying. He asked you out, after all. “We work together. We share an office for God’s sake. And besides, he’s Roy fucking Kent.” I laughed and shook my head, trying to be really convincing. “In case you didn’t notice, I’m not his usual type.”

A smile spread across Keeley’s face. “Well, all I know is that last time he and Jamie were working out, he told Jamie he was sick of dating just to date. He’s sick of models and shit. He told Jamie he wanted something real.” She shrugged. “I dunno. You seem like the kind of girl who could be something real.”

I did my best to hide the pleasure on my face as Keeley confirmed what Roy had told me last night. Instead, I cleared my throat and turned my attention to my tablet. “Well, good for Roy. But I should be going, I’ve got to get to the pitch.”

“Yeah, gotta go stand next to Roy for the next few hours.” Keeley winked at me. “Don’t think I don’t notice the blush on your face whenever he’s around. You’re not as clever as you think. I’ll get you two together eventually.”

Little does she know, the little voice in my head chucked. “Sure, Keeley,” I humored. “I’ll see you later.” I planted a kiss on her cheek, reminding myself to try to match the affection she brought to a friendship, and waved as I walked away in the direction Roy had disappeared in.

I should have been more surprised when I turned a corner and found him leaning against the wall, scrolling on his phone. He smirked when he saw me.

“Did you wait to me?” I asked, not bothering to hide the smile on my face.

He shrugged, tucking his phone into his pocket. “Maybe.”

“Very sweet of you,” I hummed, shoving his shoulder with mine as he fell into step beside me. “But you should probably be a little bit less obvious at work. Keeley was just telling me about her new goal.”

“And what would that be?”

“To play matchmaker for us,” I answered casually. “Which means our chemistry is obvious.”

Roy let out a scoff of a laugh just before we reached the pitch entrance. “Let her try. I’d kind of love to see what kind of scheme she cooks up.” He sobered up as we walked onto the green, where the Greyhounds were beginning their warmup. From the stands closet to the pitch, I could already hear Keeley whooping and hollering. She’d definitely have something to say about seeing me and Roy walking to the dugout together, but I’d come up with my excuses later.

I took my position between Ted and Beard, showing them the stats from our previous match and reminding them about the adjustments they’d discussed based on it. Ted said something about me being just like Q from James Bond, a reference I actually understood. I smiled at the praise and took a seat, not needing to do much now until the match started. Instead, I took advantage of the cover around the dugout to brazenly stare at Roy, grinning to myself every time he yelled “Whistle!” at the top of his lungs.

As if he could feel my gaze, he turned his head subtly, a half smirk on his face when our eyes met. He shook his head at me and pulled out his phone. A moment later, my own mobile vibrated. I glanced at the glowing screen.

You’re going to make hiding this really fucking difficult, aren’t you?

Of course. Making your life harder is half the fun.

My phone vibrated again. Fine. Whatever. Grab a bite after the game?

My grin widened as I began to type back.

Only if I can get an autograph.

Roy turned his head again, that upturn of his mouth barely visible. I relaxed into my seat, tapping away at my tablet. For the first time in my life, I could hardly wait for a Richmond game to be over.

[marknee]

bts fanfics i think shakespeare and queen elizabeth i would’ve gossiped about.

chapter ii. ✷ chapter iv.

KEYS ON SEVERITY OF SHAKESPEARE’S STATE:

( ✮ ) — you can’t lie, shakespeare’s got a mouth on him.

( ♬ ) — they’ve ordered everyone out the room. peering through the window as we speak.

( ✎ ) — someone tell him to put that poor teacup down.

( ♛ ) — her majesty royally gasped. she’s clutching her pearls, bless her.

THE SHAKESPEARE SERIES.

WARNING: keep in mind, some of these authors are very strict on the rule that no minors should read their work if they’re underage, and i will honour that. but, at the end of the day, i am not your parent. so, there’s that. but heed my warning wisely. any smut or 18+ content is highlighted in bold.

NOTE: we’re on part three already? damn, times flies. if you’re new here, welcome to the shakespeare series where i write essays about fics that would absolutely annihilate shakespeare — hence the name. if you haven’t read the past two chapters, you can access them in the masterlist above! let’s get into it.

⠀

⠀

( ♛ ) MATILDA — by @babystrcandy

!! yoongi x reader | 141.8k !!

brothers best friend au, angst, fluff, eventual smut.

my therapist would absolutely adore this fanfic. maybe i should recommend it to her. or just send her the link. she’d be thrilled.

this series is dedicated to anyone who felt like the second choice, the one always forgotten about, the so-called disappointment, the people pleaser, the perfectionist, the one whose family has let them down over and over again.

reading this, alike reading anything else, transports you to another world. however, the difference between this one and all others, is this makes you feel safe. secure. a safe place. a sanctuary you never realised even existed, where you feel accepted and loved. it takes the idea of home and really drills it in.

if you find yourself relating to this story, like i did, i want to you to know i see you and i truly hope one day you find everything you were deprived of growing up. you deserve peace. you deserve love.

while you’re at it, go give this author some love for seeing us, listening to us, and validating our experiences. and for writing such a beautiful story.

⠀

( ♬ ) DILF JK — by @venusiangguk

!! jungkook x reader | 85.5k !!

strangers to lovers, dad!jk, friends with benefits, smut (18+), fluff.

if some army’s weren’t such delulu’s and so consumed by the imaginary idea that they’ll one day marry a bts member and live happily ever after, this is the type of shit we’d actually get. but no, we’re forever plagued by fiction because of a few overly obsessed wankers.

rant aside, dilf!jk is a concept. one that needs to be studied and researched for my own personal needs. because i thought dilf!namjoon was dangerous (and he most certainly is), but dilf!jk is a whole other… thing? being? story? i’ll leave that to the researchers.

personally, i love when authors mould fiction and reality into one body. they blend the two concepts together to create something beautiful, and this was duly noted within the topic of the age gap. deciding on something real for the benefit of both parties in a fictional story is so fucking applaudable. or perhaps i’m just an angsty fucker, sorry.

most definitely worth all the tissues and all the cheek aching. talking from experience.

i mean, it’s got ‘dilf’ in the title, is that not enough? it’s what made me click, anyways. i’m a dilf lover through and through.

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( ♬ ) A SERPENT’S FLOWER — by @jimlingss & @dovechim

!! jimin x reader | 34.2k !!

fluff, smut (18+), lil angst, hogwarts!au.

realistically, you knew at some point in this series there would be a harry potter!au thrown in somewhere, didn’t you? i mean, come on now. and i’m so happy this is the first one.

this two-parter and it’s sequel both are both due the respect they deserve. the perfect opposites attract trope? enemies to lovers? with a quick-witted slytherin reader and an even wittier hufflepuff park jimin? fuck me, don’t mind if i do.

i never say a fanfic has everything. but this fanfic has everything. character, romance, humour, angst, wit, the list goes on. it’s a fanfic buffet: it’s got it all, and you just help yourself.

and i realise some people don’t read the sequels to fanfics (i know), but i beg of you. read the sequel too. if anything, i think the sequel was my favourite bit. and i know some people don’t like the pregnancy trope, but i’m telling you there definitely is a time and place for it. and this is the time! and the place! trust me.

did i cry at the end of this fic? i can’t remember. but the probability is higher than i’d like it to be.

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( ✮ ) ZERO GRAVITY — by @luxekook

!! namjoon x hoseok x reader | 11k !!

space!au, poly!au, angst, smut (18+), crack, fluff.

if someone doesn’t drop me on a spaceship with two of the hottest men on the planet in the next fortnight, i’m suing. don’t know who that’ll be yet, but some poor sod will have his hands full, that’s for certain.

i love space!au fics with my whole heart and ass. honestly, every time one comes up on my page, i have to save it. it’s a reflex at this point, they’re just too good. you know what is also too good? the built up tension within this fic. jaw-dropping.

i’m not giving out any spoilers, but the author really said, bonk— here is the nastiest smut you’ve ever read in your life. take it, or get fucked. and of course, i took it. but nothing really prepares you for that atmosphere change. not even the sex club was remotely ready. and it’s a sex club.

not going to lie, before writing this essay, i actually went back and read it again, just to make sure i was in the right mind the first time i read it. and yep, sure was. it’s just shocking how insane this fic is.

btw, anyone fancy a visit to throbbing disco sticks? i need a word with the person who came up with the name. and perhaps a kiss too.

⠀

( ✎ ) NO CHOICE (NEXT TO YOU) — by @gukyi

!! yoongi x reader | 13k !!

college!au, frat boy!au, neighbour!au, enemies to lovers.

miscommunication. my lover in fanfics, my worst enemy in real life. hence why i love this fic so much. because it’s not real life. (unfortunately).

we’ve all done that thing where we’ve accidentally eavesdropped onto something we shouldn’t of and one thing leads to another and boom, you find yourself misreading the whole situation. and you’re lying if you say you haven’t.

well, that’s this fic for you. times a thousand. honestly, enemies to lovers fics never do me wrong. they’re always a joy to read — the thrill and the very, very prominent sexual tension keeps you excited, waiting on the edge of your seat to see how everything plans out.

my point? this fic never bores you out. read it a thousand times and it still feels like the first. and not a lot of fanfics have that power, i’ll tell you that. a few, yes. but not a lot.

don’t take reading this for the first time for granted. wish i had that privilege. jealous.

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( ✎ ) THE PRINCE’S CINDERELLA SYNDROME — by @jimilter

!! jimin x reader | 39.4k !!

cursed!jimin, supernatural!au, strangers to lovers!au angst, smut, fluff.

this fic altered my brain chemistry permanently. there’s no going back. i’m officially ruined, you guys. i don’t even know who i was before i read this. it was just- bang, clean slate.

to begin with, i thought ‘this bitch saw him twice and her knees buckled. what the fuck.’ but then i realised that bitch is me, and the so-called him is referring to thee park jimin, so really. i got it. who wouldn’t absolutely power move it after seeing such a sight? i might just jog a little. sprint on a good day.

i would happily write a five thousand word essay for you on how fucking good this plot slash idea was, and an additional ten thousand on how sad, but i don’t think my fingers— nor my mental state would be able to go through that. not again. please.

but as i mentioned in the last fic above, do not take reading this for the first time for granted. however, only because you will lose all rationality.

shakespeare most definitely plagiarised this fic. he wrote it down and her majesty knows. that’s why he looked so proud of himself at tea. the sneaky fucker. just he wait until i tell @jimilter.

sobbing. again. or is this the fourth time?

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( ✎ ) ALWAYS IN MY DREAMS — by @kookskingdom

!! namjoon x reader | 15.4k !!

soulmates!au, fluff, angst, minor character death.

i mean, i already sleep too fucking much. only being able to meet my soulmate through my dreams would just make me comatose. you’d never hear from me. ever.

and yes, you saw the tag. it’s another soulmate!au because everyone knows how much nini loves her hopeless romance. but! who doesn’t. they’re too good to scroll past. so when i finally read this, i knew it was going in the series.

the unknown certainty between the pair of when their next encounter would be with each other, causing them to cherish every single second, that. that’s what i want please. someone who drinks up my existence knowing we will soon part from each other. i cannot.

i love, love, love the concept of soulmates, fate, destiny, whatever. the whole shabang. i bathe in it. so, of course, this fic was a big hit with me. and if that too is your thing, and you love the idea of two souls being intwined inside and out, this is your golden ticket.

@kookskingdom is mentioned in this chapter twice. but can you blame me? you find a ticket to the chocolate factory, of course you’re going to hold onto it as tightly as possible.

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( ✮ ) VOICEMAIL — by @joonary

!! seokjin x reader | 7k !!

fluff, humour, friends to lovers, college podcast!au.

you know those dramas where both the two main characters are so completely smitten with each other to the point you’re practically screaming at your screen for them to “just kiss already!” but won’t because they’re hopelessly oblivious, even though everyone is telling them how in love they both are? yeah, that’s this fic. in a nutshell.

though in their defence, i feel i would definitely do the same. but still, does it stop me from getting frustrated with them? no. i was absolutely raging.

this cute story was so, so sweet i was practically clutching the phone for an emergency appointment to the dentist. my teeth were rotting with all the added sugar, like hello? my teeth? but just like chocolate is, it’s addicting. and you can’t stop yourself.

perhaps i’m just a sucker for friends to lovers fics, but this one particularly caught my attention. it’s 5k of pure infuriation, and 2k of fluff.

but so worth the impatience.

⠀

( ♬ ) FALL IN HATRED — by @jimlingss

!! seokjin x reader | 20k !!

divorce!au, angst, fluff, smut (18+), marriage!au.

first bullet point is just the thought of fuck me, ‘cause where do i start with this?

separation — in some ways — is the easy way out. you just get up and leave. walk out, whatever. boom, just like that. but the emotional repercussions are what make it so distressing. making that daunting decision to leave something— someone in our past, may be one of the hardest things we humans ever have to do.

this fic goes through the rough battle of what it means to be committed to a person. the battles of finally giving up on someone you once thought the world of. and honestly? that may be my worst fear. for someone to love me so deeply, and then lose that over time to see me as nothing more than an inconvenience of their past.

never been through divorce. hopefully you, nor i, will ever have to. but after reading this, i don’t think we have to experience it.

this amazing, yet painfully angsty fic does it for us. and a fucking incredible ending.

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( ♛ ) THE ROAD TO RADIANT — by @kookskingdom

!! jungkook x reader | 25.9k !!

gamer!au, streamer!au, fluff, angst, smut, rivals to friends to lovers!au.

this got a crown on the shakespeare state chart purely for the fact i have never played valorant in my life, and single-handedly managed to impress my friends — who are obsessed with said game — about my newfound knowledge of gaming, purely from this fic alone. felt like a fucking genius.

i was going to add this to part four, but i genuinely had to swap some fics around to put this baby in. i found space for her, so she’s here. and deservedly so. why wait?

this fic does a very good job of highlighting the deep misogyny and sexism that runs within the gaming community towards women. like, can women not be good at gaming too? do people really believe gaming is purely a man thing? is this really the society we live in? yikes.

and if you do happen to read this fic and reach that argument scene with jungkook, please let me know. i want you to know i, too, was absolutely fuming. phones were thrown. naughty words were said. angry voice messages to said best friend were recorded.

final special mention for the smut scene. had me sweating like a sinner in church. lord have mercy.

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( ♬ ) BRASS AND STRINGS — by @jimlingss

!! namjoon x reader | 113.7k !!

slice of life!au, fluff, slow burn, college!au, music!au.

take a shot every time this author is mentioned within this series. you’ll end up blackout pissed. it’s a shame they left this platform, but i hope they’re doing well. their fics have really left an impact on me. and i’ll forever be grateful.

ah, yes. the cheesy clichéd trope of the mean girl and the nerd. a mix of two completely different personalities and flavours that supposedly fit together like two broken pieces of a puzzle. the very foundation of a 2000’s romcom. an iconic pairing that has been hammered into us by the media since day one.

it’s the opposites attract that lured me in initially, but it’s the character development throughout the story that nestled itself into my heart, and got me to stay. this fic holds dear to me still.

i have gatekept this fic long enough, and i am trusting you to bear it with love and extreme care. like you’re holding a small, fragile baby in your arms. do not let me down. please.

one more thing, don’t share this with shakespeare. every time he’s brought it up, i’ve told him it was a really weird dream and he’s only just started to believe me. yes, i feel shit about it, but it has to be done. the man’s a menace.

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( ✮ ) TANGLED WEBS — by @ughseoks

!! jungkook x reader | 14.1k !!

spiderman!au, soulmate!au (yup), angst, fluff.

if any of you say a word about the second tag, i will fight. i will never stop recommending them. me and the soulmates!au are soulmates. irony at its finest.

i genuinely wish spidey!jk was a real adaptation. because even though andrew is my favourite spiderman, i fear there is a large difference between the pair that separates them. andrew can play peter parker. jungkook can (re: could) play peter parker. but could andrew play jungkook? no.

in this fic, the whole characterisation of both jungkook as spiderman and the soulmate!reader is so well written. you can perfectly picture jungkook being that awkward high school boy by day, and secret superhero vigilante by night. i mean, fuck me. how is he not knackered all the time?

mixing in that final zest of soulmates!au everyone (re: me) loves, you’ve got yourself a hell of a plot line.

romeo and juliet were not soulmates, shakespeare. they were children. why aren’t you taking notes? stop talking to the queen. she’s tired of all your bullshit. and so are we.

© marknee, 2023. all rights reserved.

⠀

[queen-of-mandalore]

The more I think about the clones’ storyline in TBB, the more I see the similarities to Finn’s story in the Sequels and how much of a missed opportunity that was.

Like Cody questioning if the empire was really making the galaxy better, Finn realises that what the First Order was doing was wrong. Like with Crosshair, holding another trooper as they die makes him realise enough is enough and he has to get out.

Finn doesn’t even have a name, he’s just a number. How often in Clone Wars is the fact that the clones are more than just numbers brought up? Plus how the empire only sees them as numbers. The way Finn chooses a name just like the clones all chose their own because they wanted to be more than just their numbers, because despite everything they are still people.

But then in the sequels they just forget that Finn was ever a stormtrooper at all - he just becomes another rebel side character despite him having the most interesting backstory to any of the new characters. I wish we’d gotten Finn’s guilt of leaving the other stormtroopers behind, perhaps coming across troopers he was close with, Finn refusing to kill them because he knows they’ve been brainwashed like he had been - give me Finn using stun bolts because he doesn’t want to hurt them just like the freed clones do in TBB. I want to see Finn grapple with finding who he is, where his thoughts start and his brainwashing ends - I’m thinking about Rex’s conversation with Cut about if he truly believes in what he’s doing or if it’s just want he’s been programmed to believe. Give me complex conversations with Poe - Poe arguing that Finn can’t save the other stormtroopers and he’s being naive to think he can change their minds, Finn refusing to accept that. Finn giving rousing speeches to the stormtroopers that make them think twice - just like Fives’ speech in Umbara. Stormtroopers hearing about Finn’s defection and suddenly realising for the first time they have a choice.

Finn should have taken on the role Rex did in TBB, fighting to get other stormtroopers out of the First Order. We should have seen other stormtroopers questioning their loyalty to the First Order, maybe some still choosing to stay. We should have got moments like the one between Rex and Wolffe in TBB, with Finn trying to talk his former brothers in arms into doing the right thing. Finn should have led a full on mutiny.

But no, all nuance about the stormtroopers was ignored and they became canon fodder like always. Finn was sidelined and got no storyline or character arc of his own. When you see what they did with the clones across TCW and TBB, it really makes you realise just what we could have had if they hadn’t squandered Finn’s potential and had the guts to do something with some nuance - maybe the ‘bad guys’ aren’t all pure evil, maybe these faceless soldiers the resistance murder on mass are actual people who could have been saved? Maybe it didn’t have to be so black and white, good guys vs bad, but no that would be too complex and interesting.

[exitpursuedbyavulcan]

Enclosed

When he's far away at sea, Tom finds himself infinitely grateful that you found work at a photography studio.

Author's Note: This fic, two days late? Noooooo.... Also! I've inadvertently made all the Tommy B smuff fics connected, so this can either be read alone or as a sequel to "After the War"

Pairing: Tom Bennett x Reader (2nd person)

Warnings: masturbation (m), lingerie, references to oral sex (f receiving) and p in v sex

This work is a part of my 12 Days of Smuff event! Read the rest here.

My Masterlist

Enclosed

Prompt: Letters & Lingerie

Tom lay in his bunk with a cocky smile on his lips. He cast his eyes around the rest of the room, finding only one or two other sailors, both asleep and far enough away that they wouldn’t be able to hear him.

This ritual was well worth skipping his mid-day meal.

He weighed the envelopes in his hands for a moment. It felt heavier than it usually did – that boded well for him. After taking a moment to inhale the perfume you had lovingly sprayed on the envelope, Tom dug into your letter.

Tom, my strapping husband,

You said in your last letter that your life in His Majesty’s Nave was ‘fucking boring.’ Shall I tell you how exciting my life back home is?

My uncle has changed the studio’s opening to eleven in the morning so he can get some sleep after staying up all night as an air raid warden. Which means I must find a way to fill that time, assuming I am not also sleeping as I often do after spending a night crammed into a shelter with every screaming and crying child in the whole goddamn neighborhood.

But when I am not sleeping, I often find myself doing the chores that Mum no longer has the energy to do. I swear, if I didn’t do the shopping and cooking, we’d all be eating nothing but bread. Since dad left, she just hasn’t been the same. I think him leaving again reminds her of the last war. He went missing for seven months, seven! I can’t imagine how awful it must have been for her.

Don’t you ever put me through that, Tom Bennett. Not even for a week. I swear I’d come to France myself to drag you back here by your ear.

Now that’s out of the way, I do have something somewhat exciting to tell you. My uncle’s been letting me use the camera a lot more than before he signed up to be a warden. I even got to do a family’s christening portrait all on my own! He wants me to be able to handle the studio on my own, should he ever get called up (not that we’re even slightly concerned about that, considering his age). Or – oh no. That’s not really why he’s doing it, is it? He wants me to be able to run it in case one day he doesn’t come back after the sirens go off, doesn’t he? I’m going to try not to think about that.

I brought it up because he’s allowed me to start using the portable camera rather than the big one in the studio. This way, I won’t always have to be nervous that he will walk in on me when I take pictures for you.

Speaking of, I think you’ll like what I enclosed today. I borrowed Mum’s, just as you asked.

Your adoring wife,

Tom stared at those two wonderful words. Husband. Wife.

He wished he’d been able to give you the ceremony you deserved. Not simply standing in the register office with all your parents looking on with half-hearted smiles before being rushed out almost immediately so the next couple could come in. You deserved so much more than that, roses and a band and a grand hall and all that shit. Once he was home, for good, he’d give it to you. All of it. Most of all, a big honeymoon. Not the one night in a shabby local hotel your parents, your uncle, and even his sister Lois had helped pitch in to get you. Only for him to have to leave again the next day.

The fact that he was leaving you as his wife instead of just as his best girl made it somehow so much harder.

But this helped.

He started by writing his reply to the actual content of your letter. If he started with the pictures, he knew he wouldn’t give a shit about whatever you’d written by the end.

My sweet darling wife,

I am so very sorry that you have things to do all day. Whenever I feel bad about sitting at the prow and staring at the endless ocean, I will remind myself that you are enduring such tortures as shopping and taking undoubtedly lovely family portraits. It will remind me that I should be eternally grateful that the king himself has sent me on the world’s most boring cruise.

Joking aside, I am very sorry you’re stressed. Give your mum my love and tell your uncle that I’m counting on him to look after you while I’m gone, and thank him for his good work (with the warden thing, not the photography). Please take care of yourself. I know you’re willing to stretch yourself thin for the people you love, but I love you too, and I’ll be pissed if I come home to a wife too exhausted to even fuck me.

I actually might not be bored for a few days. They’re sending us to do a job, even if I will be stuck in a rowboat for a day, maybe more. Ah well, at least I won’t be the one rowing, at least.

I’m very happy about you getting more responsibility at the studio. Of course, most of that is for selfish reasons, but I’m still proud of you, love. Can’t wait to see what you’ve enclosed. Oh and before I forget, I’d like to request something… red in your next letter.

Your proud husband,

Tom Bennett

He never wrote as much as you did, but he knew you didn’t mind. You didn’t want any details about the horrible, upsetting things he’d seen, it would only worry you too much. Besides, you knew what he really loved about your letters.

After taking another deep breath, Tom set the paper aside and finally allowed himself to look at your pictures.

“Oh, you gorgeous, gorgeous girl…”

The pearl necklace you wore was a little off-center, but Tom hardly noticed it. He was solely focused on what you were wearing—a full corset, in some kind of shiny, light-colored fabric. The top of it only held half of your perfect tits inside, allowing him to admire their smooth curves. What he wouldn’t give to hold them in his hands. Once he got home, he’d do just that for an hour at least.

Over your delightfully cinched waist, you’d worn a sheer petticoat with ruffles at the bottom – exactly like one you might have worn under your wedding dress, if you’d been able to wear one. He’d get you that, too. Even if only to go to your uncle’s studio to take pictures. Tom wouldn’t need to rent a morning coat, as he’d just wear his uniform, so he could spend extra getting you the perfect dress.

Maybe you could even redo the wedding night.

Tom surveyed the room again before lying back and sliding his hand below his waistband. He’d done this so many times that now, he got hard the instant he picked up the envelope, so he was still relatively proud of his restraint, and was sure you would be, too.

He started slowly, imagining slipping the petticoat off you. Imagine how you’d shiver as his finger ever so slightly brushed your skin. The sounds you’d make – sighs and little whimpers. He loved those little whimpers so much.

He let out his own soft sigh as he began to move his hand faster. Once the petticoat was down, he’d kneel in front of you and make quick work of your shoes, then take his sweet time unbuckling and lowering your stocking.

God, how he missed those legs, shapely and soft. He loved touching them, kissing them, laying between them. His hips kicked up as he imagined himself kissing his way up them when he got home, all the way up to that delightful place where your knickers dug into the little dip between your leg and your hips.

It was hard to hold back his moan at the thought.

He’d lower your knickers first, he decided. So he could bury himself in you until he was satisfied. Yours was a taste he craved as badly as he did for decent cigarettes. He sometimes woke from dreams of devouring you, thinking he could still taste you on his tongue.

Only when your legs were shaking would he stand, prowling behind you with his hands on your waist. He’d kiss your neck as he untied your corset. Or unhooked? He didn’t know, but he hoped it was untie – it was sexier.

The pearls would stay on the whole time as he kissed you, touched you, fucked you. He’d put them between your teeth to help you soften your cries and moans, then watch them fall back on your chest when you came. You always came with your mouth wide open as you screamed his name.

That memory of your voice and the way your nails would dig into his skin is what drove him over the edge, spilling himself into his hand.

Tom lay there, reliving his imaginings, until a bell rang, signaling it was time to get in the rowboats. He made sure to wipe his hand on the mattress of one of the rich cunts who mocked him and the other working-class boys before leaving, his own letter in hand.

He stopped by the room where they kept their post on his way to the rowboats, quickly folding his paper to stuff it into an envelope. A smile crept over his features as he addressed it to ‘Mrs. Tom Bennett,’ before filling out the rest. He was glad that you were living in your parent’s house, but he couldn’t wait until he could get a place just for the two of you.

Lastly, he wrote the date in the corner of the envelope, as you always liked to know when he received yours, so you could be sure to include all the relevant gossip he’d missed.

26 May, 1940

[tidalskii]

It was announced yesterday that LittleBigPlanet 3’s game servers would be closing indefinitely, putting an end to the remaining online support the original LBP trilogy still had. I’ve managed to collect my thoughts and pay my tributes to the series before I part ways with it.

This game series means the world to me, and I am extremely proud and honored to have been apart of it’s community. I started playing the games in 2010 with the demo for LittleBigPlanet on PS3 and… I wasn’t impressed. I got stuck before I even played the game! I had a second controller turned on somewhere so 6 y/o me was presented with the “Select Profile” screen.

Having no clue why none of the buttons on my controller were working, I think I just turned it off and didn’t play it for months. Idk what got me to play it again, but I’m glad I did because I fell in LOVE with the game. Everything about how it controlled just… clicked with me. I thought it was genius, the sheer amount of expressiveness you could display; tilting the controller to move your head or your hips, using the D-Pad to change your facial expression, moving each individual arm with both sticks and the limb buttons on the back, it was all so intuitive and fun to do. Although, once me and my cousin learned how to slap each other in-game, it was over for my parents’ ears lol, we’d be screaming and yelling at each other. Sure enough that Christmas, I got the full game, specifically the special kind with some of the DLC pre-installed. That’s where the REAL fun began. Nearly every night after school I’d bring a couple of friends over and we’d try to play through as many levels as we could in one-sitting. The Metal Gear Solid DLC levels I often died immediately in and I would wait for an older kid I knew to get to a checkpoint and revive me. Regardless of how bad I was at the game, it was so much fun, especially now that we were able to experience the create mode. My mom actually started playing it, too. I don’t have any pictures of it sadly but she made a really expansive house with separate rooms and secret passages everywhere, it was really cool. I’d say I spent a good year or so playing the first game, then Christmas 2011 arrived. That’s when I got LittleBigPlanet 2.

LBP2 is my favorite video game of all time, it does what every good sequel should do: expand on what made the first game so amazing without straying too far away from its core appeal. For starters, if you already owned LBP the game will ask you right off the bat if you wish to import all of your collected items, costumes, and levels into LBP2. This absolutely BLEW MY MIND and in a weird way it kind of made playing the first game obsolete. You mean to tell me EVERYTHING I’ve ever made is already here, I can just… continue working on it?! I can still rock the same costumes I had, I can play music from the FIRST game in the SECOND game?!?! That alone made LBP2 so much of a gem in my eyes, it was LITERALLY the first game and MORE. But the fun didn’t end there! It was around this time I got a PSN account, so I was able to experience everyone else’s creations online and… wow. A whole new world just opened up, a whole community to engage and interact with. I met so many amazing people, some of whom are my closest friends to this day, over a decade later. It was through a group of some older kids that I often tagged along with that started getting into anime and comics more. 2011-2014 was a magical time to be on LBP, those years really felt like “The Golden Years” of the online community. Oh yeah and LBP Karting and the portable games existed too, I guess. I played LBPK, I thought it was fun… I still own it, but I’ve barely touched it after all these years. From what I’ve heard PSP and Vita seemed like a lot of fun, I’ve just never played them. Around early-mid 2014, it was announced that there would be a third LBP game for both the PS3 and the newly-released PS4. New characters, 16-LAYERS in create-mode (!!!), and a weird purple lightbulb as the new main-antagonist of the story mode… “Newton”. I remember being so excited for it to release. We were FINALLY getting a THIRD LittleBigPlanet, for a new console, too! We sure did, alright.

To this day, I’m still not sure how to feel about LittleBigPlanet 3, and it feels like the greater community more or less can’t ether. This game… SHOULD be better than the 2nd game, and you know what? Catch me on a good day and I might say that I prefer LBP3 to LBP2. Everything’s there, a new story, cross-compatibility with LBP and LBP2, a fleshed-out create mode, all of it’s there and what we have in the game is phenomenal, however there’s one big, glaring issue that distracts it from being superior to its predecessors… this game is BROKEN. I know people like to throw out that term a lot with somewhat buggy games but oh my god, LBP3 is DANGEROUSLY glitchy and exploitative. By this point, Media Molecule had moved on from the LBP series to continue developing new games, leaving Sumo Digital to oversee LBP3’s development. I feel so bad for Sumo Digital because it’s painfully obvious Sony rushed their time to complete the game for a holiday 2014 release date… and the quality of the final game reflects the time-crunch they must’ve gone through. Joining friends can take you up to a half-hour if you’re unlucky, it’s a gamble if the game will even function properly. Often you’ll be sent back to your pod after the game rapid-fires it’s loading screen (btw serious warning for anyone with epilepsy: DON’T play LittleBigPlanet 3, it does stuff like this all the time), but when the screen fades in, Sackboy doesn’t respawn, soft-locking the game. Fun! I’m not sure if anyone else suffered from this one specific, GAME-BREAKING bug as I’ve never seen anyone else talk about it, but around 2015 or so my game’s gravity just… freaked out, regardless if you were in hover-mode or not, Sackboy would float off to the left of the screen and phase through all of the walls. I tried restarting the game, cleaning off the physical disc the sink, but nothing would fix it, I literally had to reset my game progress. Very fun! Another weird thing I ran into is the inability to place down stickers with the PS Eye Camera Tool. It just stopped working entirely at one point, even in previous games like LBP2. No idea how THAT happened, very strange bug. Despite all this… I powered through, because truthfully I do think the content in LBP3 is superior to the previous games. The music is great, I found myself genuinely invested in the story and it’s characters, the DLC packs introduced in LBP3 were all very fun, and the create mode is a GODSEND compared to the first 2 games. Honestly, that’s one of the 2 reasons why I chose to stick around with LBP3, there is SO MUCH you can do with the tools it provides you. For those of you who don’t know, for the last couple years or so I’ve been building full working models of the Thomas the Tank Engine characters in LBP3, and that’s led to me gaining a humble but amazingly awesome following in the game. I love Thomas, I love LBP, I just wanted to put those two interests together and I’m very happy people seemed to have liked what I made, which is very wholesome and sweet.

I am devastated that the game’s online services are now gone for good, but it was kind of inevitable. LBP3’s lack of quality opened the door for a lot of nasty exploitation and modifications people made to their games. The servers were hacked in 2021, and that led to the termination of the PS3’s servers. It wasn’t hard to deduce that PS4’s servers were running on borrowed-time. Regardless of how unfortunate it’s closure was, this franchise was supported for 16 years. That’s not a bad run at all. I would say I’m surprised it wasn’t closed sooner, but then again… I’m not surprised. The LittleBigPlanet community is so amazing and passionate over these games. When the 2021 server attacks happened we all rallied together online to keep it alive, if just for a little bit longer. Even at its very end, a lot of us had so much more creativity to share with the world. To all those out there listening, I hope you’re able to channel that creativity outlet even further beyond in the future, whenever and wherever that may be. As for me, I’m going to attempt to learn “Dreams”, Media Molecule’s spiritual successor to the LBP games, released on PS4/PS5. From what I’ve seen and played of that game, it scratches that itch LBP left on me. It’s so good.

Rest easy, Sackboy. Thank you for some of the best experiences I could have asked for in a video game. Here’s hoping for a LBP4 one day, old friend. 🌎

[jujumin-translates]

[A3!] ★ Main Story | Act 15 - Painful RE:bake | Episode 6 - A Broken Shell

Taichi: --Well then, I’ve got a challenge that I’ve always wanted to take on!

Taichi: I… wanna try getting a leading role outside of the company.

Taichi: The only reason I was able to stand at position zero with my chest out as the lead role during Mantou Fist was because I had everyone in Autumn Troupe behind me.

Taichi: But for my “individual growth”, I’ve gotta go beyond that.

Taichi: I wanna play the leading role without having all of Autumn Troupe with me. That’s what will lead to my evolution and confidence as the actor, Taichi Nanao.

Taichi: That’s why… I wanna take on that challenge and give the world I once gave up on another shot head-on.

Azami: The world you once gave up on…?

Taichi: I’m gonna try my hand in the film industry, like dramas and movies, ‘cause when I did those as a child actor, I didn’t grow at all!

Sakyo: The film industry, huh…?

Taichi: I got so knocked down by Ten-chan’s overwhelming presence, especially since he was the same age as me, that I gave up on the idea that I could ever be like him…

Taichi: But now that he recognized me as an equal rival, I think there might be something I can do now.

Taichi: I wanna contribute to the troupe by re-challenging the barriers that I failed at back then and become an even better actor than I am now!

Taichi: …That said, I’ve got no clue where to even start.

Banri: If you’re tryin’ to get an audition, why don’t ya talk to Tenma?

Banri: I mean, you’d still hafta be offered the leadin’ role in a production, but the Sumeragi Agency prolly has some contacts.

Banri: That’s how I got an audition for Handsome Detective.

Taichi: Oh yeah, that’s right!

Juza: Handsome Detective, huh… That was quite the masterpiece.

Banri: Shut it.

Taichi: Alright, I’ll try talking to Ten-chan!

Azami: If that’s the kinda thing you’re talkin’ about, I’d kinda like to do something like that too.

Sakyo: That’s something I’ve always wanted to try too.

Omi: …

Taichi: Omi-kun? You okay?

Omi: Yeah-- I just need to find something to challenge like everyone else.

Omi: (I’m concerned about the matter at hand, but… I need to focus on myself.)

Banri: Aight, so that’s it for what we’re--.

Sakyo: Can I make a suggestion?

Sakyo: These individual challenges are good, but this is a sequel performance. If we don’t bring attention to Autumn Troupe, we won’t fill seats and we won’t sell on streaming.

Sakyo: We should make good use of our spare time and do something all together as Autumn Troupe.

Taichi: Like what…?

Juza: Somethin’ like how Spring Troupe did their beginner’s workshop?

Sakyo: Exactly.

Azami: I feel like that was a good opportunity to get people interested in their performance, not just our fans.

Juza: Should Autumn Troupe do that too?

Banri: Nah, a workshop for beginners with this many scary faces? …We’d just scare away the participants.

Azami: Shouldn’t it be somethin’ that take advantage of Autumn Troupe’s strengths?

Juza: Our strengths… Ya mean action?

Taichi: I getcha! We can teach people the basics too!

Sakyo: We should get Yuzo-san to supervise the rehearsal menu then.

Banri: If we’re gonna put together a plan between now and before Autumn Troupe’s performance, and talk to a buncha different people, we better get on it…

Omi: Then I’ll take care of the management stuff once you’re ready for it.

Omi: I’ve done planning and management for these kinds of events for the photography agency before.

Omi: Also, Zen-san mentioned the other day that--.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

*Flashback*

Zen: Just let me know if any of the newborn group wants to use it for action-specific rehearsals or somethin’.

Zen: I’ll lend it to you whenever it’s available. Tell your director about it.

*Flashback end*

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Omi: So I can get right on it and talk to him about it.

Taichi: That’s some great timing!

Sakyo: The first generation always has a soft spot for the newborn group.

Banri: I’m grateful that we’re able to rely on them now.

[ ⇠ Previous Part ] • [ Next Part ⇢ ]

[hms-no-fun]

I hope this ask doesn't come off as rude at all-- and I apologize if it does!-- but as an aspiring writer, I'm honestly really confused by some of the early choices in Godfeels, and I'm curious if I'm just not "getting it". I saw some posts about it pop up in the tag (and they WERE very shitty and rude about it :/), but I'd love to hear your explanation/take on June's big character change immediately post-realization, and especially the... "Trickster Arc", I guess it could be called? The former I get to some extent, but I'm really curious about the choice to do all THAT so early in the story with the trickster candy.

Seriously love your work, your narration is honestly a big inspiration to me in terms of how meta it gets and how close it gets to communicating directly with both the main character AND the audience!

no rudeness detected at all! this is a great question, in fact it’s one i’ve been kinda hoping someone would ask because i’ve been thinking about this stuff a lot these last few months. but i get the sense that you’re at least a little new here, so uh, yeah, hello, when people ask me interesting questions i tend to answer at great length. so strap in for that after the break lmao. also as a note, there will be some spoilers for all of godfeels here but please don’t let that scare you away, they’re all contextless and, if anything, might honestly make the rest of the story *more* enjoyable as a result.

as far as "getting it" goes, i've talked at length about the how & why of the violence in godfeels in multiple places so i'll try to avoid rehashing that too much here. but one thing i want to emphasize right off the bat is that i never intended godfeels to be an ongoing thing. you talk about the trickster arc happening “so early in the story” but when i wrote godfeels 1 i didn’t plan on writing more. i didn’t even plan on making john trans! my idea of what the sum total of godfeels 2 would be when i started writing it wound up being completely different from the finished work. i didn’t plan to make this thing so long. i didn’t plan for june to accidentally on purpose kill her friends while drunk and then retcon it. i didn’t plan on turning the whole thing into a space opera. it all just happened to me, man. i kept writing because i kept finding more interesting things to say. and it’s important to specify that when i started gf1 i hadn’t written fiction in years. i think if you jumped ahead to godfeels 3 part 1 chapter 8, no matter how you feel about the content we’d at least be able to agree that in the years since 2019 i’ve become a much much better writer. if you want more insight into how my process has evolved, i’ve written so so so much about it, too much maybe even, in the #sarahposts tag.

anyway, now i want to talk about june's "big character change." the extent to which her trickster arc makes sense or feels in character seems to vary wildly from person to person. what always bugs me about "ooc" as a criticism is that godfeels starts six years and change after the end of homestuck. let's remember that the protagonists of homestuck were sixteen when the comic ended. now i want you to ask yourself if you as you were at 16 would think that you as you are now was "in character." or vice versa! probably not, right? it doesn’t even have to have been six years. i was STILL sixteen when i started to get embarrassed of who i was at sixteen!

that should be all i need to say, but it isn’t. and it doesn't really get to the core of the issue anyway. i am not nor have i ever been interested in writing "a sequel to homestuck,” even though it has kind of just become that anyway. godfeels has always been about the meaty existential drama you can tease out through the complicated character dynamics of these fucked up traumatized gods. godfeels has always been my way of analyzing the themes and ideas of homestuck, the existential ramifications of the mechanics of SBURB and the classpects and retcon (let’s remember that i wrote godfeels around the same time that i took over hosting duties on the perfectly generic podcast). godfeels has also always been about me and my trauma. i even used to joke that june was my self-insert character, though i've seen that line repeated unironically by enough people who haven't read godfeels that i've stopped saying it. because it's not true! june is very, very different from me... i just happen to see my life reflected in her eyes.

to immediately rehash what i said i wouldn't, june eg8ert arose out of my frustration with most versions of the june egbert headcanon particularly in the summer of 2019. let's call her "hairclips june." hairclips june is always smiling, usually with smiling friends, she's wearing hairclips and has nonzero tit and is A Woman Now. as i said in my video, while i don't begrudge anyone their comfort food, this simply was not my experience with coming out as a trans woman. and of all the characters, i’d always identified most with john. also i thought, you know, these kids are SERIOUSLY messed up, every single one of them has died multiple times, they've seen things and done things no one should ever have to. and retcon! god, what a mindfuck retcon is.

those are the primal ingredients of godfeels. what if june came out and everyone wasn't chill about it? some folks say that's out of character and, idk, i guess that's arguably true. but i had friends who were very vocal trans allies who’d been in queer relationships who still stopped talking to me after i came out. let me tell you i spent a lot of time fucked up in the head over how "out of character" that was for them, to the extent that i blamed myself for their reaction because surely they couldn't be so out of character. to which one might respond, well, why do this as a homestuck fic then? why not just do my own original thing instead?

and i guess the answer is that i didn't want to and i still don't, really. it's not just about the characters for me. i like the rules of the homestuck universe. i find it interesting how it mechanically reflects being a fictional narrative. and, you know, maybe it's easier for me to process violent intrusive thoughts through a character who is capable of acting on those thoughts and then immediately undoing them consequence-free. retcon is, in fact, sort of the perfect mechanism for exploring violent intrusive thoughts because it lets us play out the fantasy without lasting diegetic harm, such that we can just focus on the existential and moral questions of the phenomenon itself. and like, yeah, that’s not everyone’s cup of tea. but isn’t it still just as valid a topic to explore in fiction as anything else?

like em or not, people have intrusive thoughts. people have violent impulses. sometimes they even act on them. the unpleasantness of a phenomenon shouldn’t dictate whether it is acceptable to depict in fiction-- if anything, we ought to take our instinctive desire to look away as an urgent invitation to look closer instead. as i’ve been wont to say for years and years now, “problematic” implies a problem to be solved. that which is human is inherently complicated. to pretend it’s all good or bad excises humanity from the equation, or at least flattens the range of acceptable humanity. all of which is my extremely soapboxy way of saying (as i’ve said a million times by now), yes, godfeels june is problematic. that is in fact what godfeels is about.

there's an extent to which i think this can be blamed on how rooted we are IN june's perspective in gf1 and 2. i don't think people really appreciate the fact that godfeels 1 is john threatening to commit suicide and almost going through with it. that's the context in which her friends react poorly to her coming out; i mean, she's literally sleeping on rose's couch because everyone's so worried about her! i think that, by being completely within june's perspective for all of these events, we don't really get a good sense of the interpersonal dynamics at play (probably because i didn't even really understand them myself until later). instead we just see people who should know better acting like dicks.

i think whether or not june’s trickster arc is canonically palatable to you depends very much on whether or not you've had a dear friend disappoint you so much that you're no longer on speaking terms.

but if we want to reel this back from the abstract philosophical, maybe it’s enough to say that we just have different interpretations of these characters? they’re not monoliths, you know. different people see different things in different characters. some folks get a lot out of hairclips june and that’s okay. maybe i was a bitch about other people’s headcanons back in 2019 when redditors were calling me and my friends abusive pedophiles for liking vriska, but i gave up that fight when the redditors got what they wanted (to harass a group of queer creators offline and out of their jobs). if someone wants to woobify gamzee, whatever man, go right ahead. that ain’t my cup of tea and i personally don’t think that’s very in character either, but that’s why i don’t read it. it ain’t for me and that’s fine. i like homestuck BECAUSE these characters can mean so many things to so many people. is this variability not precisely the thing that makes the postcanon era so interesting?

i have my idea of who these characters are based on who they were in the comic and i work very hard to keep them in character, but i also don't want them to be trapped in amber. i want them to grow and change and become different people, because homestuck itself is obsessed with inescapable absolute archetypes (ie the ultimate self, or the captchalogue system) and i enjoy troubling that. i enjoy swimming in a sea of weird problematic dilemmas. that’s what’s fun about fiction for me, you can think about and write about all the most difficult and even fucked up things you like, and it definitionally cannot cause real material nonconsensual harm to another human being. and yet we get so tied up in the question of harm anyway! maybe that makes sense when talking about marvel movies, but this is fanfiction we’re talking about. this is HOMESTUCK fanfiction. if i were to go on twitter right now and post “homestuck is good” i’d end the day with at least five comments saying “lol no it’s not.” SOME OF THOSE PEOPLE WILL HAVE HOMESTUCK AVATARS. there are few things as cringe as liking homestuck even among people who like homestuck, so who cares? i like homestuck, i like the epilogues, i like hs2, and i think a pretty gargantuan majority of this fandom are subliterate babies. that’s why i don’t engage with them or make much of an attempt to bridge the gap. i think godfeels and its cool little fandom is all the better for how much work it requires of the reader to “get it” as it were. i wish more people would give it a chance, or at the very least not immediately throw me and a lot of my friends under the bus at every possible opportunity, but what can you do? i just write. people will react how they will react. what matters to me is that it stays true to itself as a work, and that it grows with me and my audience and my collaborators. trying to backpedal or soften the edges would just ruin the whole thing, likely alienate my current readers and inevitably invite even more bad faith readings. no thanks!

some folks stop reading godfeels after june's trickster arc, and i can respect that. if you get to that part of the story and don't like it, chances are you're not gonna like the rest of it! and in that sense, i guess you could say i “chose” to have june’s trickster arc happen so “early on” as a litmus test for the reader. as annoying as it can be feeling like i’m constantly having to address this exact issue, i vastly prefer it to a bunch of people hate-reading something that wasn’t made for them. but again, i didn’t know this was “early on” when i wrote it, because i didn’t plan it to happen. i didn’t intend for june to go on a killing spree, she just did it and i as writer decided, you know what? this is way more interesting than what i had planned. and then dirk became the antagonist because, oops, june coming out fucked up all the schemes he has that play out in the homestuck epilogues. and i guess in THAT sense, the palatability of godfeels depends on whether or not you liked and/or tolerated the homestuck epilogues and homestuck^2. these, too, are not for everyone. but godfeels is not a replacement for them, as some folks like to claim (god bless them). i’m not interested in rewriting homestuck or fixing its sequels. ok well that’s not entirely true, i think the epilogues did jake REAL dirty and that’s become a big focus of mine going forward. but even then, i don’t pretend the epilogues didn’t happen. in fact if you’ve read all of 3.1, you know just how cosmically important they end up being.

but this is, i guess, kind of the crux of the issue for me. june’s trickster arc happens very early on in the story, yes, and that’s deliberately challenging on a lot of levels. june spends a great deal of time being challenged by it herself! but folks who stop there (if they even make it that far) often act like the whole story is grimdark wish-fulfillment violence or me airing out my irrational hatred of Boys (????), and that's just not true. i don’t give a shit about that. we get to june's trickster arc at around the 25,000 word mark, out of the current grand total of over 400,000 words. her violence is functionally the prologue, and she spends the entire rest of this story suffering the consequences of those actions. so if i am frustrated with this line of questioning, a lot of it comes down to the fact that if you just read the rest of the story you’d see that i have in fact had all of the same thoughts you’ve likely had. i know people who think i did dirk dirty in gf2, and i actually kind of agree! which is why dirk comes back and has a difficult, complicated relationship with his past self. people complain about certain characters being ooc, which i can certainly understand because when i started godfeels i really did not have a great grasp on them! but also, if you kept reading godfeels you’d know that the tension of whether or not someone is cosmically “in character” is a huge running theme of this story. june’s friends react poorly to her coming out in part because it seems out of character for her! hell, phenomenologically how *could* june be in character after coming out when she barely even knows who she is yet? her whole thing in gf1 is that she doesn’t know who she is anymore! just realizing that you’re trans changes you, changes how you see the world, how you relate to other people. or it did for me, anyway. risk, dare, X, angel dirk, and silverbark are all sorts of caught up in this question. and if you’ve gotten to the end of 3.1 you’ll know about the concept of denexustic radiation:

and that’s just the tip of the metaphysical iceberg. all of which is to say that this is a feature, not a bug. so it’s always very funny to me when people drop out so early on only to complain about the very same problematics that i’ve spent three years and 400,000 words exploring.

BUT. but. yeah godfeels 1 and 2 are messy. the gf3 prologue is very messy. it’s a serial narrative that has changed shape multiple times over the years, and barring a bit of polish on gf1 around when i started writing gf3 i generally refuse to go back and rewrite things. there’s a lot i would do differently today, but if i had done it differently then the story as it is today would not exist. and i love this story! i might look back on gf2 and feel like it’s rushed and messy, but i know that it was the best i could do at the time. it’s a reflection of who i was as a writer then. i live with the ramifications of that for the same reason i don’t delete the old videos on my channel from before i came out/learned what communism was: because i don’t like to pretend that the present was always present. i’m a different person now, a different writer. i made mistakes, i learned, and i changed. i will continue this process for the rest of my natural life, as will you.

ultimately i guess my answer here is that godfeels is a flawed work written by a flawed person, and the extent to which readers relate to it seems to have a lot to do with how much their flaws overlap with mine. i get lots of people telling me my characters are in character. i get people telling me they’re more in character than some canon! and it’s not that i weigh those comments as more valuable, i just see it as an indication of who my audience is. i’m not writing for people who want more hiveswap, and i’m certainly not writing for people who dismissed hs^2 out of hand. i’m just writing for myself and my friends, and it just so happens that some people seem to get a lot out of it.

i’m gonna close out here by actually finally directly addressing your question with what i think you were ultimately hoping for: some writing advice.

the rules don’t exist. there are things that can make some art better or some art worse but they are not universal. the rules are fake and if you hold every story you touch to those rules, you’re gonna have a bad time. a story is not static and it is never truly yours. you discover it. sometimes you can expand it or alter it in ways but, at least in my experience, doing so more often than not just kills the whole thing-- or at least demands a complete reconceptualization. all of which takes time, and we live in a world where taking time to get in touch with and hone your craft is considered sort of a bad economic decision. but art is what it is and it does what it does and we can either play with it or we can put it in a cage.

what i like about making art is that i am not entirely in control. i have my plans, my schemes, my ideas, but the fun of writing is just putting a bunch of characters in a room together and seeing what they do. quite often they do things i would never expect, that are far truer to their character than i anticipated. my experience has always been that the more you outline a story before you write it, the harder it is to actually write that story. when i know everything that’s gonna happen on a moment to moment level, the whole thing falls dead on the page. but obviously you need to know SOME things! and i’ll say that from the inception of gf3 back in december 2019 to now, very very few of the broad strokes of my plans have changed. if you’ve read all of 3.1 you know there’s a very specific timeline at play in the backstory of a group of characters we’ll be spending a lot of time with in 3.2. there are no questions or mysteries or whatever else i’ve introduced to this story that i did not have at least the sense of an explanation for. but these are simply bullet points that dictate the endpoint of a path and suggest something of the moral/philosophical/emotional arc that needs to occur in order to get there. the real meat of it comes out in the act of writing itself, and that’s what i’m here for. it’s a gamble that doesn’t always pay off, and it does mean that i have almost 80,000 words of material i ended up rewriting or cutting sitting in a doc somewhere, but that’s worth it for me.

if art is to be relevant, it must have the capacity to make an audience uncomfortable. if art is to be essential, it must have the capacity to demand a strong reaction (positive or negative) from everyone who sees it. if art is to be true, it must have the capacity to reflect the disquiet contradictions of simple existence that we desperately wish to ignore in our daily lives. that doesn’t mean everyone has to or should read difficult art, or like it, or make it. but it has always existed and it will always exist, and i think it is essential for writers and critics alike to learn to stop themselves from mistaking a common storytelling method for THE storytelling method. and frankly, most of the art i love most in this world is art that i didn’t particularly like the first time we crossed paths.

and lastly, never forget the inarguable truth that the audience bears quite a lot of responsibility in this equation. you are never, as a writer, inflicting anything on your reader, because your reader can always opt out at any moment they wish. if something doesn’t work, yeah, that’s a problem you can fix. art is a conversation in that way, or at least ought to be. but at the same time, art has no obligation to be perfect, or smooth, or easy to consume. the rules are fake. they exist to be broken. the pursuit of perfection is a dead end. just make shit

okay this one has gone on QUITE long enough lmao i hope there’s something useful in there for you somewhere and uhhhh i hope you enjoy the rest of godfeels if you haven’t already read it!

[asordinaryppl]

A3! Main Story: Part 4 - Act 15: PAINFUL RE:BAKE - Episode 6: Breaking Out Of The Shell

Taichi: – Then, in that case, there’s something I’ve always wanted to try achieving!

Taichi: I… wanna try my hand at a lead role outside our company.

Taichi: I was able to stand proudly as the lead for Mantou Fist because I had all of you supporting me.

Taichi: But if I wanna work on my “individual growth”, I have to aim for something beyond that.

Taichi: I want to play the lead without the Autumn Troupe to support me, so that Taichi Nanao the actor will evolve and gain confidence.

Taichi: And also… I wanna try facing the world I once gave up on head-on again.

Azami: The world you once gave up on…?

Taichi: I didn’t have much luck as a child actor, so I wanna try doing TV dramas and movies one more time!

Sakyo: So, the film industry, huh…

Taichi: I was beaten down by the overwhelming presence of Ten-chan, who’s the same age as me, and gave up on the idea of ever becoming anything like him…

Taichi: But now that Ten-chan recognizes me as his equal and rival, I might be able to do something.

Taichi: I want to try to overcome this wall that’s existed before me for so long, improve as an actor, and contribute to our troupe!

Taichi: … Thaaat might be all talk though, ‘cause I’ve got no idea where to start from.

Banri: If you’re aimin’ for an audition, how ‘bout asking Tenma?

Banri: Generally speakin’, rather than auditioning for ‘em, leading roles in the film industry are offered to actors. The Sumeragi Agency might have some connections, though.

Banri: That’s how I got the offer for Handsome Detective, too.

Taichi: Oh, that’s true!

Juza: Handsome Detective… That was damn good.

Banri: Shaddup.

Taichi: Alriiighty! I’ll give consulting Ten-chan a try!

Azami: If that’s what we’re doing, I also got something I’d like to try.

Sakyo: I also have something I’ve been thinkin’ of challenging for a while now.

Omi: …

Taichi: Omi-kun? Are you okay?

Omi: Yeah– I need to find something to challenge myself with, like you all.

Omi: (I can't stop thinking about that that incident… I need to focus on myself.)

Banri: Then, with that said, we can split for–

Sakyo: I’ve got a suggestion I want to make.

Sakyo: Taking on challenges separately is all well and good, but we have the sequel to think about too. If we want people to come watch us perform live and on stream, we’ll have to raise our popularity as a group.

Sakyo: It’d be good for us to find something we can do as a whole, as the Autumn Troupe, in our spare time.

Taichi: Like what…?

Juza: Something like the Spring Troupe’s beginners workshop?

Sakyo: Yeah.

Azami: Lots of people participated in that, not only fans, but also people from all different walks of life. I’m sure it was a good opportunity for them to gain an interest in theater.

Juza: Should we do that too?

Banri: Nah, havin’ a bunch of rough-looking guys hold a beginners’ workshop would be crazy… We’d scare the participants off.

Azami: It’d probably be better if it had something to do with one of the Autumn Troupe’s strong suits.

Juza: Strong suits… Action?

Taichi: I see! That way, we’ll also be able to teach the basics! Sounds good!

Sakyo: We can get Yuzo-san to supervise the training menu.

Banri: We’ll need to speed things up if we’re goin’ to put a plan together and settle on it before our performance…

Omi: How about leaving the management details to me, then?

Omi: I did some planning and event management back when I worked for the photography studio.

Omi: And a while ago, Zen-san told me...

-

[Flashback starts]

Zen: If you guys want to use the space for any action-oriented practice, all you gotta do is let me know.

Zen: I’ll lend it to you whenever it’s available. Let your Director know too.

[Flashback ends]

-

Omi: So I can contact him as soon as possible.

Taichi: What good timing!

Sakyo: He’s as soft on us new guys as always.

Banri: I’ll leave that up to you, then.

previous episode | masterpost | next episode

[talesfromthesnogbox]

BNBG (Brand New Babygirl)

Summary: Alex buys Henry lingerie, Henry decides to recreate the Intimate Words video for him in turn. Sequel to I Want Your Video, but can be read as a standalone!

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 5,187

AO3 Link

I Want Your Video AO3 Link Tumblr Link

----------

Henry was thinking of doing something stupid.

Well… not stupid so to speak, but something… uncharacteristic for him. Not that this was the first time he’d ever do anything wildly out of character.

You see, a few months ago, Henry did something for his friend Pez, stepped way out of his comfort zone, and ended up getting himself way more popular online than he already was, possibly a new kink, and a boyfriend. 

The boyfriend in question was Alex Claremont-Diaz, a lawyer that worked for Henry’s publisher, and quite possibly the most perfect man on the face of the planet. Smart, kind, considerate, gorgeous, talented with his fingers… and tongue… Henry really couldn’t have asked for anyone better.

Shortly after getting together, they’d decided to move Alex into Henry’s brownstone. Neither had ever lived with a partner before, but both of them loved it. There was an adjustment period of course, sharing a space with someone after living alone for years meant their routines had been totally thrown off, but the adjustment was worth it.

One thing Henry was never prepared for though was how much Alex spoiled him.

It wasn’t out of the ordinary for Alex to show up to Henry’s floor of their office building with a bouquet of fresh flowers, or his favourite tea, or lunch when his meetings ran long (his second book was this close to releasing). An excellent cook, Alex would come home and start lavish dinners when he could, taking the time and having the patience to teach Henry a thing or two in the kitchen (that didn’t involve either man’s pair of lips and a lack of clothing). Henry had become quite fond of baking, and in turn would show up on Alex’s floor of their office with a fresh batch of cookies for him and his coworkers.

Little gifts here and there meant Alex was thinking of him, and Henry had accepted them all gratefully. Alex had never been shy to offer his boyfriend a gift, until one day a month before the second book release date.

How to Keep a Heart, the much awaited sequel to Henry’s debut novel was due to release in exactly one month, and Henry was exhausted. The stress, and meetings, and marketing, so much had gone into this book, he wasn’t feeling like himself anymore. 

“I’m sorry love, I know we said we’d have date night tonight.”

Alex shook his head, rubbing comforting circles on Henry’s back. “Baby it’s okay, I’ll cancel the reservation, why don’t we order a pizza or something and throw on a movie.”

The last thing Henry wanted was for his stress to interfere with Alex and their relationship.

“Pride and Prejudice?”

Alex kissed Henry’s cheek and got up to order their pizza. When he came back to the couch, he was holding a small shiny bag, something soft wrapped in tissue held within it.

“I have something for you… it’s—I—I’m not sure it’s the right time to give it to you though.”

Henry smirked, holding out his hands for the bag, but Alex stepped away. “I was going to give it to you tonight to I dunno, help you feel sexy or something, but I don’t know if it’s right to do that when you’re feeling this stressed. And! And I don’t want you to feel pressured to do anything with it or—I just want to preface this by saying I love our sex life.” 

“Alex you’re making me nervous.” 

“Sorry, I know I’m fucking this all up, I just haven’t bought… well I have, but I’ve never dated a man before you so this is kind of new territory.” He shook his head. “Nora once told me that when she’s stressed, she doesn’t feel good about herself, so she buys herself something nice to help that feeling go away. So I thought maybe if I bought you something nice you’ll remember how fucking gorgeous you are, and how much I love you and desire you. It’s dumb, I know, and you probably don’t—”

“Alex.” Henry was smiling. “Alex love, may I please see what’s in the bag? No matter what I’m sure I’ll love it.” 

Reluctantly, Alex handed Henry the bag. 

Henry shot Alex a grateful smile as he dove into the tissue, pulling out a neatly wrapped parcel. Carefully as to not rip the tissue, he pulled at the sticker and lifted the tissue.

“I-it’s really dumb, and we’ve literally never talked about this and maybe you’re not into it… it’s totally okay if you’re not into it, I can return it and we can forget this ever—”

“Oh.” Henry’s face blanched slightly as he held up the item. “It’s… it’s very soft.” His eyes widened as he turned the scrap of fabric in his hands. Alex’s gift was beautiful, and clearly made to fit someone with his anatomy, but Henry had never actually owned any lingerie. The light pink satin matched the colour of one of his favourite shirts. It was simple, entirely satin and elastic save for the strip of baby blue lace at the waistband, the material quite thick and looked well made. Gold beads adorned the strings of the baby pink ribbon tied in a bow right at the front, he almost hated to admit that immediately, he wasn’t opposed to the idea of owning it. Henry understood why Alex gifted him this. The thong was unlike anything he’d owned before, normally he was quite conservative in his underwear choices. 

“I’m sorry baby, I know we should have talked about this together before I went out and… I don’t know what I was thinking—” 

“Alex, love, you’re spiralling.” Henry stopped him, smile on his face. “Is this something you’ve thought about trying with me?”

“I-I mean, yeah. Baby, you’re beautiful, and I want you to feel like you are too. It’s just a little something extra to make you feel as sexy as I know you are.”

“That’s very sweet love, thank you. I don’t know if I’m quite comfortable wearing this yet, but can I think about it?”

Alex nodded enthusiastically. “Take all the time you need, and if you decide you never want to wear it, that’s fine too.”

---

“Lingerie?!”

“Pez! Keep it down, the whole restaurant doesn’t need to know this.” 

Henry had met Pez for lunch the next day for their longstanding weekly catchups, he’d filled his best friend in on the gift he’d received last night.

“Sorry Hazza, was just picturing you wearing it and I think I blacked out for a bit. Do you have a photo? I bet your sexy little arse looks fantastic in satin.” 

“Well I haven’t tried them on or anything.”

Pez tilted his head and assessed Henry. “Yet you’ve mentioned this little unmentionable to me, so you’re considering it, aren’t you.”

“I—” Henry’s cheeks flushed bright red. To reiterate, Henry was thinking of doing something stupid. Or… uncharacteristic. Stepping outside his comfort zone was not Henry’s strong suit.

“You are! I honestly don’t see the problem here babes. It’s just fancy underwear, and he’ll be the only one seeing ‘em anyways. You’ve already experienced la petite mort on youtube that thousands have seen, so what if your boyfriend wants to ogle you in some sexy panties in the privacy of your own home.”

“Yes but Pez, I’m a man. The first man Alex has been with. I… does he miss being with women?”

Pez tsk’d and took Henry’s hand. “Has he mentioned missing being with women?” Henry shook his head. “Well there’s your answer. Henry my love, it’s just fabric, I wouldn’t read into it too much. I own lingerie, many of my male partners have owned lingerie, hell I bet you even Philip owns—”

“I beg you to not finish that sentence.” 

“Point is babes, it doesn’t mean anything other than your hot lawyer boyfriend wanted you to feel sexy. Own it. And if you’re not comfortable going right for the big guns, I can send you some stuff to help you work up to it.”

---

Unfortunately for Henry, his best friend had always been true to his word, and by the end of his work day, there was a shopping bag left for him at the receptionist’s desk. 

There were only a few pieces, nothing over the top whatsoever, in fact a lot of it looked like things Henry wore every day, except instead of the worn cotton he was used to, the boxers and briefs in the bag were soft lacy things. The only outliers were a three pack of thongs from Armani, a brand of underwear he knew and loved already… he’d work up to that.

For the next couple days, Henry dipped into Pez’s bag of tricks, washed and hiding at the back of his underwear drawer. The lace felt much the same, only… breezier, and the more he wore it, the more he understood why Alex thought he would enjoy lingerie. No, nobody would see it, not even Alex, he’d decided… not yet anyways. It was a secret for Henry to know and nobody else to find out. But he felt mischievous knowing he was in the office, in meetings, chatting over coffee in the canteen with his publishers, knowing under his neatly tailored pants he was wearing a pair of black lace briefs that made his ass look like a dream. 

The stress from the upcoming release never went away, but he felt a switch within himself flick on when he caught a glimpse of himself in the morning, freshly showered and nicely cupped in lace. 

Days before his book release, he decided to finally try one of the thongs from Pez’s gift. It was… strange. From the front it looked no different than any other pair of Armani briefs he owned, but from the back… seeing his ass on display sent a shiver of pleasure through him. He threw on a pair of jeans, hyperaware of how the denim felt against the bare skin of his ass for the first time… ever. 

He went through the motions of his morning, brewing an Earl Grey the way he liked it, catching up on the news, and finally, joining his sister for their weekend FaceTime calls.

“It was all quite dramatic. But then I said… Henry, are you even paying attention?”

“S-sorry?”

Bea giggled on the other end of the line. “Baby bro your head is up in space. Is it the book release?” 

“I-I-I…”

“Did something happen with Alex?”

“Bea I’m wearing a thong.” 

She raised her eyebrow. “O-okay, and judging by your face, it’s the first time you’ve worn one?” Henry nodded. “Ah well I suppose it takes some getting used to. I was still in secondary school when I bought my first one, with Amber Smith y’know, dad picked us up and I ran right to my room and hid it from mum. But we’re adults now so no having to hide sexy underwear from nosy parents.” Bea gasped. “Is this a sexy surprise for Alex?”

“Y’know, you’re way too invested in my sex life as my sister.”

“Oh shut up, you’re like my best friend, we can talk to each other about this.”

Henry did love his sister dearly, and she did occasionally have sound advice. 

“I-is it supposed to feel like I’ve got a wedgie all the time?” Bea cackled loudly. “It’s not funny! Do people just walk around like this all day?”

---

After some thorough research, Henry concluded Bea was right, it did just take some getting used to. He found that he liked the way the thong gave him a clean base under his trousers with no visible lines, and he’d forgotten what he was even worried about… it was just underwear. 

The day of his book release had finally come, and Henry was happier than he’d been in months. His publisher had hosted a small party the night before at an indie bookstore where one hundred fans were invited to kick off sales. That morning, he’d posted on all his socials, knowing soon enough readers would be commenting and tagging him in posts with their thoughts. He’d decided to take the rest of the day off to relax and enjoy some free time before he really got to work on his third book, the only thing planned was a dinner with Alex, and the surprise that would follow.

“Dinner was lovely, thank you for treating me.” Henry left a light peck on Alex’s lips. “What do you say about a cozy night in?”

Alex smiled, the smile didn’t reach his eyes, but he didn’t say anything admitting disappointment. “Sounds great baby. Star Wars marathon?”

“Mmmm, you know me too well. I’ll just freshen up, but I’ll meet you in the living room.” 

Henry tore away from his boyfriend, grabbing the scrap of fabric and his vibrator from the Intimate Words shoot. Opening himself up and placing the vibrator took barely any time at all. Henry had been thinking about this all week, eager to finally give his boyfriend a weekend full of pleasure after the craziest months of their lives.

Once the toy was placed, Henry finally slipped on the soft pink thong Alex had gifted him just a month ago. He’d been experimenting, and he was used to seeing himself in pretty things, but this made him look exquisite. The pink satin was shiny and delicate against his skin, full and smooth where it held his partially-aroused dick. The blue lace complimented his alabaster skin, and brought out the colour of his eyes, but he knew Alex wouldn’t be focusing on his eyes tonight. 

Henry felt powerful as he positioned himself on their king bed, draping himself over a pillow, the remote to the vibrator hiding underneath it. From the mirror he’d positioned in front of the bed, just a few feet over from where it usually lived, Henry assessed himself. Nothing had even happened yet and he already looked debauched, his hair a glorious mess, the flush from his cheeks trailing down his chest, his pert nipples pebbled from the mix of the chill of the room with his partial nakedness and the anticipation of what was to come.

He cleared his throat, heart pounding, and called for his boyfriend. “Alex, love, would you mind giving me a hand with something?”

“Coming!” He heard his boyfriend call from down the hall. Oh you will be darling. “What’s up—” Alex entered their bedroom, and his jaw went slack. “Wow.”

“Hi dear, sorry if I startled you, I gave your little gift some more thought, and it turns out you were incredibly correct,” he trailed a hand along the lace at his hips, “I feel very, very sexy.” 

“O-oh my god, I… you… dios mio baby you’re a fucking wet dream come alive.” 

Alex rushed forward but Henry put a hand out. “Ah, one more thing.” He reached under the pillow and tossed the remote to Alex, gesturing to the plush chair in the corner of their bedroom. 

“What’s this?” 

Henry turned to retrieve the manuscript off his bedside table, hearing Alex groan as his ass came into view. He looked over his shoulder, wiggling his ass a little with an arched back, and pulled aside the thong to reveal the vibrator nestled deep inside him, with the L shaped base nestled snugly against his perineum.

“Well, you’ve watched my little video a few times now, I figured it’s a big day, why not recreate it. I know you’ve been dying to read the scene Shaan asked me to cut from the first draft, let me narrate it for you love, if you’d let me?” 

“H-holy fuck baby, really?”

“Tell me where you’d like me, Alex, this is your fantasy.”

Henry giggled as he could practically see the horny ideas float through Alex’s head. “I’m in charge?” 

“Yes love, my pleasure is in your hands. But—”

“I’m in charge but you’re in control. I know baby.” Alex stripped down to his boxers, his length already thickening with arousal. He handed Henry a pillow, and Henry knew already what Alex wanted from him. Bashfully, he swung a leg over the pillow, lowering himself so his own bulge still wrapped in the silky thong hung over the front of the pillow. “Look at you baby, already knowing what I want, like such a good boy.”

A shiver ran through Henry at the praise from Alex. He wiggled a bit on the pillow, the movement securing the vibrator in place, before starting as he did on camera.

“Hello love, my name is Henry Fox, and I’ll be reading from How to Keep a Heart by Henry Fox.” He giggled cheekily, watching Alex’s expression morph from full concentration to a goofy smile. 

Henry dramatically flipped the first page of the manuscript, eyeing Alex flirtatiously as he thumbed through the pages. “You absolute tease, you don’t remember what page it’s on?”

“No love, I didn’t memorize the page number for where the omitted sex scene started. And tease? How am I the tease, you’re the one controlling the plug in my arse. The plug that isn’t vibrating yet I might add.”

“Relax baby, it’ll start once you start reading.”

Henry rolled his eyes, but the smile gracing his features gave him away. “Chapter seven. The coast was clear; James tugged Gabriel past where the guards should have been stationed, and through the heavy door of his private chamber. He wasted no time pushing Gabriel against the door, and finally kissed him senseless. He hadn’t so much as tasted his lover since his father sent them away, and James was aching with need.” Henry shot Alex a look, and rolled his hips pointedly.

“‘You came back for me.’ Gabriel whispered in disbelief against the taller man’s lips. ‘No, you came back for me. Not my father’s jewels.’ ‘James mi amor, how could you ever believe I cared about some stupid shiny rocks more than you? You’re mi tesoro.’ James shuddered as Gabriel’s hands wandered down to his bottom. They’d only made love once, but James was shaking with need. His cock swelled as he ground himself against Gabriel’s thigh, torn between pulling him towards the bed, and wanting to give into his own pleasure right here against the door. His desire to be thoroughly fucked into the mattress won out, and he pulled away, reaching for Gabriel as his knees hit the edge of the bed. ‘I’ve been thinking about you, every night when the castle is quiet and the candles are snuffed out, but my fingers are nothing compared to your cock.’”

As Henry read on, the rest of the room falling away as he distracted himself with his own story, Alex clicked the button on the remote.

“James took Gabriel’s thick length in hand, and oh!” Henry’s head shot up to lock eyes with Alex, who’s deep brown eyes were solid black with need. His jaw went slack, the vibrations not powerful enough to throw him entirely off course, but distracting enough to make him want to stay in this position and ditch the manuscript. 

“Well? Go on baby, you were saying something about Gabriel’s thick length?” Alex took that moment to lower his boxers, his own hardness standing proud between his legs as he took himself in hand. Henry whimpered at the sight, and couldn’t help the roll of his hips against the pillow between his thighs. “So pretty for me baby, but those noises aren’t in your dirty little book, are they?” 

Henry shook his head, and brought the manuscript up to read from again. “James t-took Gabriel’s thick length in hand and swiped his thumb over the h-head, spreading the bead of pre-cum at the tip.” Henry’s abdominals contracted, momentarily taking his breath away as Alex pushed the vibrations to the next level. “‘I-I’ve never…’ James started, looking at Gabriel through th-thick lashes. He’d been wondering what the dark haired man would t-taste like, how it would feel to have him pump his s-seed down his throat, but James settled for a chaste kiss to the underside of Gabriel’s shaft— O-oh my god Alex.” 

His hand moved of its own volition towards his own hardness, and he shuddered as he drew circles over the soft satin of his panties. He reached in, over the waistband, but Alex suddenly stopped the vibrations. “Ah, ah, ah.” 

“Fuck.” Henry whimpered, his groan of frustration almost embarrassingly loud as his head hung forward. 

“No touchy.”

His hips rolled, trying to at least massage his prostate with the bulbous head of the vibrator, but it wasn’t enough. “Alex, please…”

“Begging already are we baby? Good boys don’t touch themselves when their boyfriend is supposed to be in charge.” Alex gave Henry a pointed look as he thumbed the underside of his dick. 

“I’ll be good, I promise. I just need…” 

“You need to stop touching yourself and let your toy do the work for you.”

Henry panted, but nodded all the same, adjusting himself so the head of his cock peeked out the top waistband of the panties. “Didn’t want to get them all messy.” 

A smirk crossed Alex’s face. “Mmmm, we’ll see how clean they stay.”

“James kissed his way up Gabriel’s oh god—” Alex pressed the button on the remote, cycling right to the midway point on the vibrator’s intensity. “F—fuck Alex.” Henry’s voice turned breathy, and his chest heaved as he fought to stay upright atop the pillow. “James kissed his way up Gabriel’s chest, licking into his belly button, stopping right under his strong pecs. He traced the underside with his tongue, teasing the skin around his nipples, smirking as his lover cried out under him.”

“Hey baby,” Henry’s eyes snapped up to meet Alex’s, “d’you wanna try something for me?” Henry nodded frantically. “Can you touch your pretty little tits for me please?”

A punched out moan left Henry’s lips, his hand shook as he dragged it up his torso to cup his flat pec. He threw his head back and ground his hips down into the pillow, whimpering as the vibrations finally hit just the right spot on his prostate. Henry had a past, Bea and Pez loved to joke about his “slut phase” (although Pez knew a lot more about Henry’s sex life than he cared to admit), but surprisingly none of his past lovers had ever given any attention to his chest. His hips stuttered as he gathered the courage to press into unknown territory and thumb over his nipple lightly.

It immediately pebbled under his touch, and a zing of pleasure shot down his spine as he did it again. “Christ”, he whimpered, arching his back into his hand. Precum dribbled from his dick, and he knew without looking it had already stained the pretty blue lace at his hips.

“Fuck sweetheart, look at you. So goddamn beautiful like that.”

“Wish it was your hands, your tongue Alex.” 

“Don’t forget about the other one.” 

Alex’s smirk was wiped off his face as Henry dropped his manuscript and locked eyes with him. He licked the pad of his thumb, keeping eye contact as he dropped his hand to his chest and thumbed the other nipple. His jaw went slack, and he leaned back on his other hand, grinding down on the pillow in earnest. Alex was speechless watching his boyfriend so lost in his own pleasure. He clicked the remote, upping the intensity of the vibrator and snickered as Henry let out a yelp of surprise. 

“Feel good baby?” 

“F-fuck. Incredible. Aahh shit.” He mewled. Henry’s hips thrust upwards and his abdomen contracted as the vibrator hit his sweet spot relentlessly. His thighs trembled and he repositioned himself again further back down the pillow so he could grip the front of it, knuckles going white. “I’m so fucking close Alex.” He sobbed. Alex upped the intensity again. If Henry was counting correctly, the toy was one setting away from full speed. His balls drew up as his already laboured breathing turned ragged, and he chased his pleasure, knowing he looked properly debauched now.

Just as he felt the beginnings of the tingling in his toes, the device stopped again.

“J-jesus christ Alex, fuck.” Henry’s heart pounded in his chest, his vision was blurred through frustrated tears. “Please let me cum.” 

Alex’s smirk was cocky as he stood from his chair, dropping the remote onto it carefully. His own dick was dripping, hard and hot, neglected as he’d instead watched his lover chase the pleasure for both of them. He drew a hand up to Henry’s cheek, wiping the tears away. “Not yet, mi amor.” 

A shudder ran through Henry at Alex’s casual use of Spanish. He knew it did something to him, and using it in the bedroom, when he was so close to finishing, was mean.

“Let me help you, baby.” He guided Henry down off his knees, and onto his stomach further up the bed. “Is this okay?” Henry nodded, whimpering as Alex joined him on the bed and drew his knees up under him. Even though he was still wearing the satin panties, Henry felt exposed. His head rested on his hands, chest on the bed and ass in the air. He moaned as Alex pulled aside his thong, tracing the tip of his finger around the rim of his hole. “Stay there.”

Henry heard Alex move off the bed. It could have been a minute, it could have been an hour, the throbbing of his hard cock was the only thing he could focus on until he heard the familiar snick of a bottle opening. Again, the scrap of fabric between his cheeks moved, and with a light tug, the vibrator was removed from his ass. His hole clenched around nothing, and fluttered as Alex’s fingers gently circled his rim. 

“Alex, don’t need it. Please.”

“Hen I’m a lot bigger than your vibrator. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Don’t care, need you.” He wiggled his ass, trying to find any purchase he could against Alex’s thumb.

Alex nodded and began to slick up his dick with the lube he’d run to grab. Henry shivered in anticipation, gasping quietly when his boyfriend’s cock head finally tapped his hole. Alex eased in slowly, but Henry revelled in the feeling of the stretch. 

“Fuck baby, you’re tight. You’re sure you don’t need my fingers first?”

Henry shook his head. “No, too close. You feel so fucking good, please.” 

Once Alex was fully seated, both men shuddered. As much as Alex didn’t want to hurt Henry, the lack of prep made Henry’s ass tighter than it ever had been any other time they’d fucked. In turn, the fullness had Henry reeling, he held on for dear life, not wanting to cum until he was allowed to.

“Alex… please move.” Alex groaned deep as he gripped the other man’s hips, pulled out almost all the way, then thrust into Henry. It had only been a few moments, but Henry was already so fucked out, quiet gasps were the only sounds leaving his lips.

“Look at yourself baby, how fucking gorgeous you look.” Henry had forgotten about the mirror he strategically placed in view of the end of their bed. With all his strength, he tilted his chin straight, and groaned at the sight of them. Henry’s ass, full cheeks bracketed Alex’s trim waist as the tan man pounded into him, abs tight and glistening with sweat, clear focus gracing his features. 

The tip of Alex’s dick grazed Henry’s prostate, and from there he knew it was nearly over. “F-fuck, there… right there—” a choked out whimper left his throat as Alex relentlessly hit that spot. “I can’t—”

“Can’t what Hen?” Alex stopped all the sudden, panting and rubbing Henry’s back.

“For god’s sake Alex, I was about to cum.” He wiggled his hips, thrusting back as best he could on Alex’s dick. “Please let me cum.” 

Alex laughed. “Alright sweetheart.” He reached under Henry, and carefully pulled the front of the silky panties down, then thrust in again hard, knowing he’d found the right spot by the way Henry mewled. It only took a few more thrusts before Henry’s ass was clenching around Alex’s cock, his orgasm ripping one from Alex.

Henry shook, his toes curled, his hips pushed backwards into Alex erratically, and his fingers knotted in the bedsheets as he came with a shout. A steady stream of tears rolled down his cheeks as he felt Alex’s release fill him.

They both panted as they came down from their highs, Henry whining as Alex slipped out of him and moved him to lay down away from the wet patch he’d created.

“Surprise!” Henry blurted out breathlessly.

“Jesus Hen that was one hell of a surprise.” 

“Thank you again, for the gift. They’re beautiful and you were right, it does make me feel really sexy.”

Alex knocked his forehead against Henry’s, kissing his nose. “Sexy doesn’t even begin to cover how good you look. Selfishly, I’m really happy you decided to try it out.” He leaned in and pressed his lips to Henry’s, lazily kissing as they caught their breaths.

“Well… I kind of worked up to it you see… I have a whole new underwear drawer I’ve been keeping hidden from you, maybe I’ll show you sometime.”

“Oh my god I love you. Does this mean you’re open to me buying you some more pretty little pieces?”

Henry smiled deviously. “I think I’d rather like that.” He pushed Alex onto his back, straddling his hips and pinning his wrists to the bed. “Who knows, maybe I’ll do a whole sexy photoshoot for you,” he kissed Alex’s neck, “send you pictures at inopportune moments,” a peck placed softly to his lips, “maybe a video or two of me playing with myself…” Henry smirked as he felt Alex’s dick twitch beneath him. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes Henry, I’d be very much into that.’”

“Yes Henry, I’d be very much into that.” 

 Henry chuckled and fell back onto his place on the bed. “Did all that live up to your expectations?”

Alex kissed him softly, dragging Henry’s mostly naked body closer. “Exceeded them. By a long shot. I love you so fucking much.”

“I love you too, and it was really fun having you boss me around, but maybe next time I can be the bossy one.”

Alex’s eyes went wide. “Fucking deal, sounds good, send me a g-cal invite and I’ll be there.”

Henry slipped the thong off and tossed it aside before snuggling into Alex more. “Hmmmm I know we should get up and shower but I’m so comfy here.”

Alex chuckled, stroking Henry’s hair lightly. “Give it like ten minutes and you’ll feel disgusting. How about we shower, grab David, and throw on Bake Off?”

“Sounds lovely sweetheart.”

“Talk to me again about that collection of sexy underwear you have now?”

Henry shook his head, smacking Alex’s stomach. “Another surprise for another time, love.”

“Can’t wait.”

[dai-bendu-conlang]

hello! i’ve been doing a project recently where i’m creating a new writing script and i’m just getting to the designing stage (finally after a whole lot of research!).

i was wondering if you could tell me a little about how you designed the dai bendu writing system or any interesting things you decided to do with it?

Okay this is going to be much less impressive and helpful than you think it might be, my apologies xD

So, first of: we tried to create our conlang based on the scraps of Jedi language worldbuilding we were given. So when it came to script, we searched for whether there were any scraps. Lo and behold: the sequel trilogy is useful for once as it gave us the sacred Jedi texts and boom: we had a script.

We copied pretty much ever “letter” of those pages and tried to see how many there were. We’d already decided that we were going for a phonological script, meaning that every letter would correspond to a singular specific sound. And then we looked at the letters we had and adapted them until we liked their look. After all, this is supposed to be a modernized script. And that is pretty much it.

Now, as an addendum: what we didn’t know when we did that is that the sacred jedi texts are even more lackluster in creative world building than we assumed. Here is a pretty good research article on what those pages might all be based on. So technically speaking the design of our script falls somewhere between Ge’ez and Coptic.

I’ll hand it to them, however. This is a step up for the absolute catastrophic fuck up that was using Hebrew for Sith originally. Shout out to Ben Grossblatt for fixing that, I’m sorry Disney never let you do more stuff for Sith.

I think the most interesting thing - and our one phonological exception - is the fact that we created a letter that means “Dai” aka “Force”.

We went for three circles as circles keep showing up in Jedi art and we like the symbolism of a circle connecting all. This also enables some really neat calligraphy, which I think Jedi would enjoy practicing. Also fun fact: if you’re insane enough to for some reason sort how every single sith and Jedi temple we know looks like, you’ll discover that Jedi prefer domes in their building designs.

For you: I’d recommend looking into the environment of your culture. What did they first start writing on? What materials were used? How would that have changed? Did they have contact with other cultures that might have influenced the script? And also, is it writeable? Is this something you can do calligraphy with as easily as take some notes grocery shopping? If your script isn’t practical in every day life, you might wanna change it until it is. I’d recommend practicing writing it yourself.

[satans-helper]

Reaching for Stardust - Part I

Read Looking for Space here.

Listen to the LFS playlist / RFS playlist (all fic playlists get updated even to this day!!)

Word Count: ~3300

Warnings: none

A/N: Y'all...I'm so happy to be here, immersed in this new series. I began writing this back in April after I, seemingly out of thin air, came up with a foundation that seemed solid enough to even attempt writing a sequel to my beloved LFS. Ever since I finished that fic, I thought that one day, I might return for more. I have a very hard time letting any series go and LFS was truly a momentous project in my life--the fact that so many people have read it and continue to read it brings me so much joy, I can't even tell you.

Having been a fan of GVF for about five years now, I do feel a lot of sentimentality and nostalgia surrounding the band, the music and definitely my own fics, too, particularly all my series. I can still remember exactly where I was and what I was doing when I was mapping out certain pieces of them in my mind. I felt a huge rush of nostalgia recently when I revisited my city's planetarium for a star show, which was a huge source of inspiration for LFS, and I realized that it was literally this same month, August, in 2019 that I was just finishing up the first 8 chapters of LFS, not even planning on making it a 30-something part series (LOL!). You'll see, if you read, that some of these feelings find their way into RFS. This isn't because it's a self-insert fic, rather that's inspired by how much this fandom has seen, experienced and grown over the years. I imagine my friends and readers who were back there in the pre-pandemic GVF era can relate to some level of nostalgia. A big theme in RFS is change. I think we all can absolutely relate to that, too. One thing remains the same though--this is a love story, through and through.

This probably seems like major overkill to introduce fan fiction but this is how I feel. Many of my old GVF friends have moved on in some way or another and I've often felt alone the past few years with still being so tethered to this group of beautiful, silly, fascinating boys that spark so much joy and fantasy for all of us. So, as always, thank you so, so much for reading my fics. I really hope you enjoy

P.S. I am cross-posting to wattpad (comments bring me life!)

---

I was getting lost in the pictures of Alaska–deep, shiny blue water, towering, white-capped mountains, a vivid stream of neon green in the Aurora Borealis, lush green forests. Even enormous, graceful whales surfacing, their tails nearly popping out of my screen as I unconsciously leaned in closer, hovering over my desk. I blinked hard as I turned my attention to the next picture that had been emailed over to me–a huge white ship, lined with windows that seemed endless–and huffed, shifting in my squeaky second-hand office chair. I didn’t even have a true desire to go on a cruise or even go to Alaska, but the neverending research into foreign lands nagged at me, reminded me that it felt like a very a long time since I’d been anywhere new. At least not anywhere exciting, really. 

I grabbed my phone and opened the gallery to scroll through the last trip Josh and I had been on. It’d been a long weekend about nine months prior, which reminded me that it wasn’t all that long ago at all but it still felt like ages since returning to the normalcy of day to day life. It had been a gorgeous summer excursion where we’d had a comfortable, clean hotel room, a warm pool and three nights out all to ourselves, and I found myself yearning for that freedom and escapism again. Plus the sunshine and heat. Michigan winters persisted, long and brutal, and we hadn’t broken through into any real spring weather until just the past week, which had at least given Sam a nice birthday. Josh and Jakes’ birthday was coming up fast. I thought it’d be nice to do something for them, with all of us–go somewhere for real again, all four of us, run amok in a hotel or airbnb. Or just have a nice dinner together followed by bar-hopping. Whatever the twins wanted, really. 

The picture I’d secretly snapped of Josh in our hotel room wandering out of the bathroom completely naked save for a towel twirled around his head came up after a dual selfie of us at the pool and I laughed loudly to myself, throwing my hand to my mouth. I’d nearly forgotten about so many of the little moments. It was so easy to forget when time kept slipping by like the wind, each good moment gone in the blink of an eye and each bad moment suspended in the air until something else came along, and the minutes turned to days and the days turned to weeks and months and before I even knew it, years had gone by and it felt like nothing and everything had changed all at once. 

Next I scrolled to a picture of the best breakfast I’d ever had, this amazing brie-stuffed French toast with a warm berry compote and housemade whipped cream, then the picture of Josh’s breakfast, which had been a skillet full of chorizo, bell peppers, eggs and queso that he’d deemed to be “orgasmic.” My stomach clenched in response and I looked at my phone clock, suddenly eager for dinner once again. My hours were almost up with 5 p.m. creeping on me and my mind turned its attention to Josh and I’s relatively new Friday night ritual–binging on Chinese and watching the most obscure, nonsensical horror movie we could find. With that, I swiveled around to stretch my legs in the sun through the window and pulled up the menu on my phone, trading pictures of Alaskan mountains for pictures of fried dumplings and greasy lo mein; a few seconds later, a very appropriate text popped up:

Hey mama, I’m gonna be a little late tonight. Want me to pick up dinner on the way home?

Yes please. What’s your ETA?

8ish? What’s on the menu tonight?

I’m gonna do the orange chicken and an egg roll. Wanna share some crab rangoon?

yes I do. What about dumplings?

obviously! 

;) see you soon 

I’d need something to hold myself over until Josh got home, though I was glad to have this part of our routine to look forward to. Stability was important and even Josh had come to understand that more and more. I turned my attention back to Alaska, mulling over the images and cycling through words in my head that I could bring to the page and entice people with, as if cruises needed more promotional materials and marketing to bring in profit. They were relatively cheap, all-inclusive and easy for people to handle and reminding myself of this made me bitter all over again–why couldn’t my company make one of their perks a free trip for employees once a year? I didn’t know their exact state of finances but I bet it could be done. They just didn’t want to. And the irony was that they didn’t pay most of their employees enough to take extravagant trips of their own.

Whatever. There were other, more important things I told myself, getting up to stretch and find something from the fridge or snack cupboard. In 32 more minutes I could clock out and put these wild places out of my head for a bit–the weather called for a long walk somewhere.

It was the nicest day we’d had so far, which I fully realized once I was driving and headed out to a familiar, easy forest trail Josh and I often did together on the weekends. But we had a busy weekend coming up, actually. We desperately needed to stock up on groceries–my most recent find of an old packet of peanuts as my last snack was testament to that–and then the boys had a show at Waterstreet. Sunday wouldn’t be as fun–my sister was repainting the entire interior of her new house and had somehow roped Josh and I into helping, in part because we were just that nice, according to Josh anyway, and also because she let each of us pick one color for one room each. Josh had chosen a shade of dusky desert red for the den and I’d chosen something called “spring morning,” a pale lilac, for the powder room, which seemed pretty fitting for the time of year she was making these renovations. 

The trail was bustling, which I wasn’t surprised by, and much of my walk was spent nodding and smiling to other people passing by. The break in weather was infectious for all of us in the area–everyone seemed to be in better moods finally, myself included even despite the gripes I had with work and money and everything else. Sometimes it felt like just yesterday that Josh and I were lying on our backs in the deep black night, gazing up at infinite stars and trying to come up with material for that poetry class that had been the catalyst to bring us together. The warm sun above me while I continued down the dirt path also reminded me of days past, of the first hike Josh and I ever had together when we both stripped down to our feelings, laughed, kissed through sweat, and had decided that was it. We’d made a lot of decisions over the years, so many that I felt like I hadn’t even noticed some of them, but I’d never decided to let fog cloud my memories. I hated that it happened regardless. And sometimes I absolutely hated what changes all the decisions had led to. I wanted to go back in time every once in a while to relive those moments and those days and it made my heart ache to know I couldn’t. Josh would assure me that the future would be just as good–and sometimes even better–than what those memories had to offer. 

And he was often right. Life was good, and I reminded myself of that as I narrowly avoided tripping over an obtuse rock sticking out of the dirt, it was just more challenging now. There was no school to fall back on–I hadn’t realized how much of a safety net that had really been at the time–and less free time. There were more financial worries. More pressures in life. But if nothing else, I had the best people in my life possible; if nothing else, Josh and I were rock solid. He didn’t let a week go by without reminding me that we were soulmates and I agreed wholeheartedly–no matter what might happen, we’d have each other. 

After my walk, I thought about running our necessary errands on my own but ultimately decided that’d be a deviation in routine I didn’t want to make. Josh was the best person to go grocery shopping with, being surprisingly focused and deliberate in his choices. He also was the best at picking out produce, somehow always able to discern which fruit was just the right amount of ripe, and he was good at finding the best deals. He was the coupon cutter, which always made me laugh, and I was the one who followed instinct more than the list we mutually made the day before. I would get caught up in being frivolous, more often than not tossing special treats into the cart that I couldn’t excuse beyond something like, “Come on, you like them too” to which Josh would agree with his cheeky little grin. 

And that same grin was on his face later that night when he came home with the bag bursting with Chinese takeout. His voice and the smell of soy sauce and that syrupy orange stuff made me hop up from the couch, excited for all the things, but mostly him.

Josh gave a little groan as he headed into the kitchen, his backpack still over his shoulders while he carried the white plastic bag in his right hand and his keys in his left. “Sorry I’m late,” he said, shuffling and rustling all the way out of my sight. “Stephanie needed extra time–she’s having trouble with the new cameras. And to be fair, they do have a steep learning curve. You remember how much trouble I had with them last week?” 

I followed him in, taking the bag out of his hand so he could zip back out and discard his keys and backpack. “Which one is Stephanie again? The one who’s obsessed with ‘film noir?’” 

Josh chuckled from beyond the walls before appearing again, pink-cheeked and smiling. “Yeah, that’s her. And that’s another thing–I’m gonna have to review how these cameras even film in black and white because for the life of me I can’t remember right now.” 

“Does she have any movie recs?” I asked as I opened a cupboard to get plates. “We gotta figure out what we’re watching tonight.”

“What about Night of the Reaper? You haven’t seen that one yet.”

“Yeah, but you've seen it,” I replied, wagging a pair of chopsticks at him. “That’s like, cheating. We gotta watch something we both haven’t seen.”

“We’ll find something.” Josh moved in close and pressed a quick kiss to my cheek and my heart fluttered–it always did. “What about you? What’d you get up today in my absence?”

“I went to the Hemlock Trail. It was busy,” I told him while we both plated our respective dishes, my stomach growling. “It was nice though. Looks like we’re gonna have good weather for your birthday.”

“That would be ideal but I’m going to be cautiously optimistic. Last year we had snow, remember?”

“Yeah, like a dusting,” I said with a little laugh, purposefully knocking my hip into his. “I’m gonna be blatantly optimistic and say it’ll be good. And we still gotta figure out what you wanna do.”

“We'll figure it out, my love.” Josh led the way to the living room and sank into the couch which we could have probably done with replacing; he set his can of sparkling water on the end table then grabbed the remote. “I’m so excited for these dumplings. I don’t care if it’s cat food.”

“They do kind of taste like cat food, don’t they?” I concurred, settling down on the other side of the couch. I put my plate on the coffee table in front of us and pulled it closer. 

“They smell like cat food, too,” Josh said, picking a dumpling up between his pair of chopsticks. “I don’t mind. They’re fucking delicious.” 

“I really don’t get how you’ve always known how to use chopsticks,” I remarked, opting for a fork instead to pierce my own dumpling while Josh fished through the cushions for the remote as he chewed. “It’s not fair.”

“I’ve tried to teach you, doll.”

“And I haven’t learned, so either you’re a shit teacher or I’m a shit student.”

Josh laughed and swatted my arm with the remote. “Hush! I’ll have you know that my students love me.”

I nodded, chewing. “So I’m a shitty student after all.”

“You are not. There’s a learning curve to chopsticks too, ya know.” Josh took another bite of his dumpling then leaned forward, peering at the TV. “Okay, so–what’re we watching?”

I followed his scrolling through our shared list of choices while I tackled the orange chicken. “What about that one?” I asked when he paused on the title Devil’s Ground. “It looks pretty obscure. 1983, a director I’ve never heard of, looks grainy and weird.”

“It’s been on our list forever,” Josh said, clicking the play button. “Let’s give it a shot.”

The movie really did turn out to be obscure–the protagonist was a teenage girl who finds an old well in the middle of the woods and climbs down into it, for some reason believing that her missing brother would be down there. Josh and I chided about the already well-known fairytale parallels, except in this movie the girl encountered creatures in the world beyond the well even weirder than those in Alice in Wonderland or Labyrinth, and ended up having to get betrothed to some menacing demon, played by a giant puppet, to save her brother. Then she and her brother kill the demon and find their way out of the strange world and back in their world.

Josh laughed loudly as the movie came to an end. “That was ridiculous. One of the best ones we’ve seen so far.”

“Those puppets were something else,” I commented, watching the credits roll and hoping everyone on that production went on to do better things. “The little blue one with teeth was my favorite.”

“Why didn’t they just get a real actor for the demon?” Josh asked, shaking his head. “Good god. It was a travesty but also kind of brilliant. I could show this to my students to demonstrate the use of close-up shots.”

“The close-up on the puppet demon when he was being slaughtered seemed unnecessary.”

Josh got up and stretched, gathering all of our plates and silverware and his chopsticks. “It really was. You want me to do the dishes?”

I turned the TV off and followed him, carrying in our empty drinks. “I thought another part of our Friday night tradition was saving the dishes for the next day and we can argue about it then.” 

“No argument. You get to do them since I got the food,” Josh said as he set the plates into the sink with a clatter, then pinched my side. “Deal?”

I giggled, shrinking away from his ticklish touch. “Deal.”

“Anyway, my darling,” Josh began to say, twirling away from me and to another kitchen cabinet. I watched, amused at how he always struggled to reach far enough up to get the wine glasses. “There’s a full moon tonight. Let’s go see it.”

“What? There is?” I asked, trying to peek at wherever it may have been through the kitchen window, our third-story apartment giving us a halfway decent view of the sky most of the time. That was one of the few perks of this place–we’d moved in last year, sizing up so I could have my “office” and enough space in general for both of us to not be completely on top of one another–though Josh never complained about that–but the building was old and lacking a number of things, namely outdoor space. Our little balcony was all we had anymore. 

Josh trailed out, wine glasses tinkling in one hand while he held the mostly full bottle of red wine in the other, and I followed again, feeling a sense of eagerness for the night sky which I hadn’t felt in, well, about a month. Our life together was full of tradition, I had come to realize in time, and a viewing party of the full moon whenever possible was certainly one of them. I’d just been too wrapped up in Alaskan cruises to remember this one on the calendar. 

The night air was chilly–a tingle ran down my spine and Josh noticed this as I sat down next to him on the cushioned bench we’d garbage-picked right after moving in. He skillfully and quickly poured each of us wine, set the bottle down and wrapped his free arm around my shoulders, pulling me in close. 

“It’s gorgeous,” he declared, his voice as rich as ever but a softness brushed through those words. I always loved whenever he got so starstruck over something that he couldn’t help but be concise. 

“It really is,” I agreed, pulling my gaze away from Josh’s equally–if not more so–gorgeous face to take in the huge globe of bright cool white above us. “I can’t believe I forgot about it. Sometimes I feel like I don’t even know what planet I’m on.”

Josh laughed, light and affectionate. “You’re on planet earth. It’s disappointing sometimes, I know, but if we weren’t here, I’m not sure we’d be able to see the moon and the stars like this.”

I took a drink, already lulled by Josh’s voice and his warm, strong arm around me. He’d always been strong, considerable muscle secure beneath silky tan skin, but he’d gotten stronger still; the muscles had become even more obvious and I sometimes poked fun, and a little bit of envy, at him for being a “hard-body” because, well, he was. I’d learned to memorize the curves and lines of his body throughout the changes, tracing every plain and valley with my fingers whenever I had the chance.“Probably not, no. We’re really lucky after all, aren’t we?” I said, reaching up to stroke his hand over my shoulder. 

“I think we are. Especially if we can see the stars wherever we go.”

“Speaking of–earlier I was thinking about how it’s been a while since we took a trip anywhere.”

“Yeah? Well, where would you want to go?” Josh asked, bringing his wine to his lips. “Not Alaska, I assume.”

“No, not Alaska. But I don’t know, Josh, I feel like we should go somewhere soon.”

Josh took another drink, looking ahead through the darkness that was interrupted by various porch lights from the other apartments rather than up at the jeweled sky. I’d expected enthusiasm–he’d have more free time soon with the semester coming to an end and I still had a lot of vacation days left, making the whole thing easy in theory–but he was uncharacteristically quiet. 

“What?” I prodded, tugging at his wrist. 

“No, nothing,” he assured me, coming alive again with his body squirming beside me, his hand grabbing mine in reciprocity. “I was just thinking about it. We should both think about it some more.”

I returned my attention back to the moon and the stars and a memory overcame me so viscerally it actually hurt–the abandoned barn, the vast field, the endless sky hanging overhead the two of us. “Alright, let’s think about it,” I concluded, wishing that the place we could travel to was back in time. 

Josh sighed and curled around me. “I feel like a dumpling,” he said, lifting a hand to pat his stomach, and I laughed right into the night along with him.

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Tagging no one because my list is so outdated that none of those people are even in the fandom or use tumblr anymore LOL please let me know if you'd like to be tagged in this series!

[oigimi]

. fantasy: act one .

. arthur x reader . 2k words . tw: attempted assault (not from arthur, similar to in-game content) .

this is gonna have a sequel, perhaps. lemme know what you think!

I sighed and looked out the window of my shop. The skies were blue, the wind was still, and the air was a crisp chill, perfectly suitable for autumn. The cold air was attracting a lot more customers to my cafe, which was something I both looked forward to and dreaded. We’d only been open for business for about one year, so gauging how good or bad each season was was still something I was getting a firm grasp on. This season was always fun, though. Everyone’s coffee order was different. Some people wanted caramel syrup and extra foam, some wanted it cold with no ice somehow, and others wanted things we don’t even serve. It was strange, but I always had a customer who ordered his coffee black. Who orders black coffee at a cafe? But he’d always give a charming smile and say something sweet, so I didn’t mind it. Plus, a black coffee is much less work for me.

Around 2:00 PM is when he stepped into my shop that crisp autumn day. He ordered his black coffee as usual, but I heard an unusual yet all too familiar sound.

“Ah, Vic! Quiet please, they’re doing us a service. I’ll add a bit of beef to that order, too. Don’t bother with putting it on a biscuit. How much extra would that be?” he chuckled, looking down. I peered over the counter and gasped. At the man’s feet was a fluffy Cavalier King Charles spaniel, letting out a little bark and wagging his tail as fast as he could.

I couldn’t suppress the smile growing on my face and the giggle that escaped my lips. “Aww, don’t worry about it. I’ll give it for free,” I offered, turning to grab a piece of beef.

“Are you sure about that? It’s really no trouble, I’m not about to con a lovely bird like yourself.”

“No, no. I’m happy to get something for him. You know, in my year running this place no one’s ever brought a dog in.”

“Really? Well, it’s a little small. Or, intimate, I should say. It makes sense why dogs wouldn’t be in here all that much.”

“It’s small now, but I’m gonna grow it. Just you wait.” I fixed him some black coffee and put the beef in a bag. “Here you are. Enjoy! And I hope she enjoys it too.” I smiled again and waved at Vic.

“I’m sure he will. Vic here is a boy,” he corrected, but smiling anyway. “I don’t blame you for getting confused. He fooled me too at first! Ah…” He took a sip of the coffee and sighed. “Perfect. Here. For excellent service and to support your growing business endeavors.” He took some coins out of his wallet and dropped them in a little cup on my counter.

Peering into the cup, I let out a sharp gasp and covered my mouth. How on earth did he get that much…? “A-ah! Thank you, but I can’t accept this! This is a lot of money, sir!”

“Really? I think a beautiful little thing like you should get more, frankly.” He stretched. “Well I’m off. I hope you have a lovely day.” He gave me a wink and turned out the door.

Something changed in me as soon as I saw him disappear into the Parisian streets. The air became… warmer somehow. The sun shined a little bit brighter, and all of a sudden I grinned at every little thing. Someone was out there who cared about my little cafe, the little cafe I’d always hoped for since I was small. The idea satisfied some of my fantasies from that time, if I was being honest. The man was very handsome, with a very distinct, charming smile and shining blue eyes. He moved like someone with staggering confidence, but led his dog like a kind, caring owner. He was everything I’d ever wanted, but I didn’t even know his name. How silly. How… juvenile.

He’d come in every day as of late. He’d always have something new to say, and something to compliment me on. I had to keep my cool, trying to pretend like his words didn’t send my heart into a rhythm no metronome could ever count. He’d proven himself generous and kind, always asking about my day outside of the cafe. I didn’t think to ask about him, I was too nervous. But he was sort of mysterious, and I liked that. He had the face and mannerisms of a man who was perfect for anyone as a partner. Someone you could count on to make your day.

“Maybe he’s got a secret or something…” I mumbled, cleaning up the tables during a closing shift. “Wouldn’t that be something? What if he’s like… A British prince or something? Or a wizard? A wizard would be cool.” Letting these childish fantasies about the man who would frequent my shop, leaving something a little extra (in terms of money and flirtatious exchanges) every day was a perfect time killer. His smile and shape of his lips filled my thoughts, and I began to fill in the blanks myself. What it’d feel like if he wrapped his hand around my waist and pulled me in, pushing my hair behind my ear, leaning in to warm my already burning face with his breath as he kissed my lips. Oh, how soft they looked. I’d’ve done anything to taste them…

“Or what if he’s a vampire or something? Now that would be crazy.” I laughed and closed the door behind me, making sure it was properly locked. “Ah… What a kid I can be.”

About halfway down the path to my house, I began to sense something was off. Sometimes I heard faint footprints, or see a shadow moving behind me. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I slowly sped up my walking until I was in a slight jog. Unfortunately, this tipped off my followers, and I was grabbed and yanked backwards.

Two huge men, dressed in dark clothing, pushed me against a wall, and began to tie me up. I tried to scream for help, in the loudest screech I could muster. I thrashed, I wriggled. I did everything I could, but the brute force against my body was enough to make my strongest efforts as futile as that of an infant. “Just look at them, how much do you think we could get for them?”

“A few thousand at the very least. Soft skin, shining eyes, soft hair… Yeah, this one’s a jackpot for sure. Get them back.”

“NO!” I shrieked, only to be gagged with some sort of cloth. They began to push me into a carriage, until something knocked them down off their feet. Forcing myself to look up, I saw an extremely familiar face, next to a completely unfamiliar one. It was the man from earlier! And… someone else! They locked themselves into a fight with my assailants, throwing punches that bruised entire patches of skin. They kicked, they swung, they dodged like they had superhuman abilities. It was unlike anything I’d ever seen before, and I clung close to the wall I was originally shoved into, praying nothing else would try to touch me while the two men who’d tried to capture me were becoming weaker and weaker.

“That should take care of them. What bastards. Attacking people in the dark,” the unfamiliar man grunted. He had soft-looking brown hair, a very tall build, and a nice brown coat. “Hey, are you okay?” He came over to me and offered his hand, but I just remained where I was, unable to move.

The one I’d come to know looked around, making sure no one dangerous was around anymore. “Give them some space, Theo,” he replied. “That was a truly awful thing they went through…”

Theo backed off and watched me. “Maybe you should walk them home, Arthur. Make sure they get back okay. Is that alright with you? You two seem to know each other or something.”

“Uh…” My gaze shifted to Arthur, who had the most concerned look on his face I’d ever seen. His brows were furrowed upward, eyes wide and glossy. I wiped away tears I had no idea were streaming down my face and rushed forward, sobbing into Arthur’s chest. “Th-thank you! Thank you so much! Th-tha-thank you and your friend both! I’m- I-“ As I bawled, Arthur hugged me and rubbed my back.

“There there, bird…” he whispered. “I’ll make sure you get back home. We’ll go when you’re ready.”

I nodded and looked over at Theo, giving him a quick hug too. “Thank you too.” I got on my toes and pecked his check quickly, to which he just looked downwards and cleared his throat. “It’s nothing. As long as you’re okay,” he grunted, clearly attempting to mask his flustered reaction.

“I think I’m good to go,” I told Arthur, returning to his side. He gave a small smile and linked our arms together.

“Good. Let’s go and get you home.”

As we walked, I couldn’t keep in the tremble in my steps and the slight vibration in my body. I looked around us, trying to verify our safety whenever I felt like I needed to - which was a lot.

“You fight really well,” I mumbled. “It was crazy to watch! I mean, the fast movements and how hard you could punch! It was like… Like you aren’t human or something.”

Arthur laughed and shrugged. “What can I say? You pick up a thing or two in pub brawls.”

“That’s it then? Pub brawls?”

He kept walking, declining to fully answer. “We were actually leaving the pub when we heard you. I’m glad I convinced Theo to go the short way home tonight. I don’t want to imagine what they’d do to you if we weren’t there…” He frowned again but quickly cleared his throat. “Anyway! Where do you live? In this neighborhood?”

“Yeah, actually! How did you know?”

“I could tell by your clothing and makeup. The style of it indicates someone who is by no means rich or poor. And your shop opens at 8 in the morning, giving you enough time to wake up and get ready and leave an hour before 8 to prepare. With all this, you must live around 20 minutes away, and this is the only middle class neighborhood 20 minutes away.”

I stared for a moment, completely unsure how to respond. “You got all that from my clothing?! What- what-?”

“I’m a mystery author, love! As well as an independent part time detective. It’s my business to know these things.”

“You’re good… Wow,” I huffed.

“Not the first time I’ve heard that phrase.” He looked at me, as I tilted my head. “Sorry! Sorry.”

I shook my head. “So you have a partner?”

“Me? No. Not now or recently.”

A glimmer of hope sparked itself in my heart. This was it! My handsome, romantic savior was single on top of everything! There was something inside me that felt ashamed for thinking this way after everything that happened, but it was better than dwelling on it all. I knew I’d spiral otherwise. “I see.”

We arrived at my house, and I led Arthur to my porch. “Thanks for everything. The tips, the frequent business, the conversation, the saving… It means so much to me. You mean so much to me.”

He smiled a warm, earnest smile. Different from the confident ones he sported in my cafe. This smile was comforting in a way I’d never felt before. “Well you’re welcome, dove. We should have a meal sometime. My treat.”

“Really-?! Are you sure? You already do so much!”

“Don’t worry. Once you open a world-class cafe I’ll let you pay. I’m sure that day will come soon. Alright, goodnight. I hope you sleep well. I’m truly sorry about what happened to you.”

I shook my head. “Yeah, it’s… I’m just grateful it ended how it did. You’re amazing, Arthur. Like I said, almost superhuman.”

With another smile, Arthur leaned forward and kissed my forehead. “See you tomorrow.” He poked my nose and turned around.

And as he left, I could’ve sworn I saw a pair of vampire fangs in his mouth.

————————

@drachonia since you wanted me to tag you in this! :3

[idiopath-fic-smile]

having a quiet afternoon in; feeling like doing that "choose a WIP and i'll write a bit of it" meme that's been going around but I only have 2 WIPs so it's really just a binary choice:

"e/R 1970's" (sequel to this)

"the patron saint of all-night diners" (sideways spin-off of this feat. Julie the waitress and the Reagan-hating fry cook falling in love)

(i don't think you're supposed to give that much context to the WIPs but *sunglasses emoji* sometimes you gotta break the rules.)

snippets under the cut. both of them are set in restaurants in the American midwest, which i mention only because it might be distracting otherwise. throw me an ask about one or the other and i'll write three more sentences. i will do this until i get tired.

e/R 1970's

Grantaire frowns down at her menu. “Suppose I’ll have to get used to lentils eventually,” she says, “if it’s bound to become part of the lifestyle. Only, remember when all you had to do to be a lesbian was want to make love to women?”

“And live entirely submerged in fear and shame?” Enjolras replies, without heat. New York’s Stonewall Riot seven years earlier—and the bolder, more confrontational movement that followed it—have changed her. With a suitable outlet for her particular magnificent energy, she is more focused than ever in work, and a little calmer in repose.

“True,” Grantaire replies. “But I worry that any day now, we’ll be issued a box of cats.” She shakes her head theatrically. “You know I can barely keep houseplants alive.”

“Houseplants don’t meow until you remember to water them,” says Enjolras. “And I admit, I have a morbid curiosity for what you’d name a pet.” She raises her eyebrows.

“Skinny Bones, if we fed him the food of our people,” says Grantaire. “Did you see they sell vegetable ice cream?”

Enjolras shrugs serenely. “We’d give him meat,” she says. “Cats are carnivores. And as far as human food goes, the spinach and black olive enchiladas aren’t half bad.”

They’re sharing a table at Viv’s Vegetarian Spot, the best lesbian-owned cafe in all of Boystown and likely all of Chicago. “Best” being perhaps a little generous, in Grantaire’s meatloaf-and-potatoes-loving book.

“You know I admire your devotion to supporting our sisters-in-arms—our sisters-in-amour, let’s say,” Grantaire counters, “but in this one particular case, I’ll never grasp why you—”

Enjolras reaches over and squeezes her hand; their waitress has swooped in, the numerous political pins rattling on her denim jacket like chainmail. “WE HAVE BEEN TOO NICE TOO LONG” reads one. “OUT OF THE CLOSET, INTO THE STREETS” reads another.

“Hi there, I’m Sandy. Can I get you two anything?” she asks.

“I’ll have the enchiladas,” says Enjolras. She hasn’t moved her hand on top of Grantaire’s. And then she beams up at Sandy and adds, deliberately, “And my date will have…”

“The enchiladas also,” Grantaire fills in, swallowing hard as Sandy nods and retreats to fetch them waters like this is the most normal and natural thing in the world. “Alright,” Grantaire says. “I think I can grasp it now.”

the patron saint of all-night diners

The first thing to know about Al’s 24-Hour Eats is that it didn’t start as a haven for the queers and deviants of the greater Indianapolis area.

The second is that the transformation was no accident.

“Julie Williams,” says Lloyd, the night manager.

Julie nods, smiles blandly. She does not adjust her unfashionable brown turtleneck or her equally out-of-date khaki maxi skirt, both chosen with care at Goodwill in an effort to look as staid and buttoned-up and employable as possible.

Lloyd’s eyes scan down her resume. She presses her lips together. Given that he’d kept her waiting in the narrow, dingy outside his office twenty minutes into their scheduled 10 o’clock appointment, it feels like he could’ve at least already read a single sheet of paper. A bead of sweat slides down her spine.

There are six lies on her resume, and seven truths. The lies: previous places of employment, mostly, retroactively fitting her with a past where she has always been known as she. The provided contact numbers belong to sympathetic friends who have been told to answer the phone cautiously over the next couple of days. The truths: her name, first of all, truer now for years than whatever might be printed on her birth certificate. Her list of relevant skills; even in her previous life, she knew her way around a tray of plates, a table full of rowdy drunks.

Also this: Julie Williams is a people person.

This will be important later.

“You ever done this before?” Lloyd says suddenly.

Julie blinks. He’s still holding the paper in his hand. The paper which says that she has a combined fifteen years of experience working as a waitress in dining establishments across the Midwest. This is not strictly true, but that’s not the point.

“Yes, I have,” she says, in her most pleasant voice. “Most recently, six years at Sunrise.”

“Sunrise in…?” Lloyd trails off.

“Lafayette. Up way past Lebanon.”

“Were you any good at it?”

“Very,” says Julie without hesitation.

Lloyd lets out a long sigh. “That’s good, that’s good. Between you and me, we’ve been having a tough time filling the night shift lately. Nobody wants to work anymore. And this part of town going the way it’s been going, we’ve been getting a lot of weirdos applying.” He raises his eyebrows.

“I’m real sorry to hear that,” she says. A second bead of sweat is slipping down to join the first one, right at the start of her asscrack. Charming.

“Yeah.” He pulls himself to his feet and shakes his head. “This place is headed downhill fast. Has been since that seedy little rathole across the street opened.” He must be talking about Hey Sailor, the windowless establishment Julie passed on her way here. Mentally, Julie updates the little dot on her mental map from probably a gar bar to almost certainly a gay bar.

“I should warn you,” he adds, “the crowd gets a little wild at night. Our last waitress quit because she couldn’t hack it. Think you can stand up to the freaks and perverts?”

She can feel her smile go sharp-edged. “I don’t let anyone push me around, sir.”

Provided the patron saint of all-night diners comes through for her and she gets the job, Julie makes a solemn vow to herself just then, regarding said freaks and perverts.

This, too, will be important later.