#also get out of my way you're standing right where i need to deliver this dish

[lovecracker]

hiding for a minute while we get mobbed at work

[wraithdance]

The Five Year Plan | Gaz x Reader

Synopsis: When your fiancé breaks up with you, you start to question your timeline; who needs a man when you can have a baby yourself? Who better to ask for help on creating one than your arch-nemesis Kyle Garrick?

Note: F!Reader, Readers nickname is 'Siggy', there will be no y/n use Content warning: nothing other than a terrible grasp of british-isms

Chapter Four (1/2): There's a Conspiracy Afoot

You are not late to work. You were simply… avoiding calamity.

Calamity in the form of an idiot blond ex and the knee hugger of a woman clinging to him outside your apartment building on a Monday morning.

You're glaring from behind the hedges where you'd darted upon seeing the couple canoodling hand in hand. The degree of happiness they emit is a great assault to one's senses. It would bring a smile to your face if a grand piano were to rain from the sky in cartoon-ish flare, right on-top of their disgusting display.

At the very least you'd love nothing more than to march right over and wallop them with your very cute (albeit dreadfully painful) heels.

But alas, you can't. The doorman stands sentry out front playing candy crush on his brick of a phone. You're already on thin ice with him for that big misunderstanding regarding the amount of packages you have delivered. Especially after that time you impulsively redecorated your living room all at once.

(It's what you get for following that monochrome minimalism trend knowing your fickle nature and propensity for color. And clutter.)

You’re chewing the gloss off your bottom lip when a dark form enshrouds your view between the gaps of the hedges. Your face drops into a flat expression as you take in the combat boots and wide stance of the bane of your existence.

With a guttural groan you straighten and roll your shoulders back with all the dignity you can muster under the circumstance. Kyle raises a brow, his features are obscured by the aviator glasses perched on his nose, but you know there's a teasing look in his eye. You scowl.

“Garrick," you lift your chin with an aggrieved exhale, "lovely to see you again as always.”

Per usual Kyle's smile is open and too bright for the early hours.

"Good morning Siggy, I'll ignore the sarcasm as usual.. but should I ask?"

Your eyes dart from him to the couple who'd finally stopped merging faces to slowly walk down the path to the building. 

You bend your knees and scooch to duck a bit more behind the overgrown greenery with a curse. When Kyle turns his head to look behind him you clear your throat loudly in panic, reclaiming his attention.

"Hm, ask what exactly?" you hope your smile is convincing but you do feel your eye twitch a bit when Madelyn’s high pitched voice sounds out. Kyle of course notices and smirks in a way you hate. 

The man was always so determined to be an irritant, such a shame.

“Why are you hiding behind a bush from Maddie?”

You squint your eyes and laugh in (faux) shock at his accusation. 

“Garrick, do not besmirch my good name in such a way, I hide from no one.” 

He scoffs and shifts his weight from one side to the other.  You want to call him conceited for taking off his glasses so you can properly take in his look of disbelief, but you are properly distracted. 

His brown eyes are very… well brown. 

Also almond shaped with lashes a man should have no business having. He chooses to squint them to give you a flat look that does nothing to dampen the obvious mirth. He reaches over to pluck a leaf from your hair and dodges your flapping hands with ease.

“Then what are you doing behind a bush instead of heading to work?”

That gets your hackles raised in defense, you did not have time for his judgmental tone or his Nosy Nancy proclivities! Especially with calamity on the horizon and less than a sneeze away.

“Garrick, I am continuously concerned about your knowledge of my schedule,” you wag a finger in his direction in reproach, he doesn’t bother to look at it. “Besides, I’m just… admiring the quality of this gorgeous plant- oh, Bollocks!”

You crouch so suddenly that your knees vehemently protest with a humiliating crack. You’re willing to ignore the pain in order to not be seen by a skipping Madelyn as she hops ahead of Hugo towards your hiding spot.

For the love of all things holy and baked, you couldn’t deal with either of them right now. No matter how much you long to pummel them, the stakes were higher with Kyle lounging about to witness. 

“Oh, Hi Kyle!” 

You’re muttering curses under your breath and pleading with a curious Kyle with your eyes. It is by some act of goodwill on Garrick’s part that he turns to face a jovial Madelyn who comes to a stop before him. He slides to the left to further hide you behind his solid form and you have half a mind to kiss him. 

(The other half of your brain of course calls you an imbecile but you choose to ignore such negativity.)

“Oh, you’re in your uniform, I’m glad I caught you before you left!” Madelyn says in a chipper voice. 

Frowning you realize you hadn’t taken in Kyle’s dark khakis and the windbreaker stamped with British Special Services on the sleeve. If you crane your neck further you can see the duffel bag at his side but you’re scared you’ll topple over in your heels and oust yourself. 

“Hi Maddie,” Kyle says politely, “Yeah I was just headed out. Stopped to take in this nice… bush.”

You make a note to kick him in the shin for his clear teasing when this is all over. It disgusts you that Maddie ooh’s and aw’s in genuine fascination.

“Yes, it is a nice hedge isn’t it? I’ve always thought so myself! Actually, I was just telling Hugo about how lovely the greenery daddy put down for the property was. Oh! Speaking of, Hugo darling!”

It takes all of your control not to reach out and strangle the bushels of pathetic plants in front of you in abject rage as you hear Hugo stride near.

Your knees are starting to burn painfully from the effort of kneeling for so long. You shift your weight, attempting to alleviate some of the strain but you freeze when your forehead jostles the bush slightly. 

Kyle gives you a look in his periphery and you take the moment to widen your eyes in what you hope translates: ‘Get rid of them now, PLEASE!’ He makes no sign of understanding frantic telepathy though, as he turns to greet the approaching Frenchmen. 

“Poppet, this is Kyle, the one I told you about! He’s Siggy’s neighbor and has the best assortment of tea in the building!” 

Nastily you wonder how many cups of tea the tart has had with her neighbors to make such a declaration.

Hugo hums and you watch Kyle outstretch his hand for a handshake. You know Hugo has given him one of his limp, disinterested wags by the way Kyle’s arm flops back to his side and the corner of his eyes tighten. 

“So you’re neighbors with Siggy?” Your stomach drops at Hugo’s tone and you watch Kyle stiffen imperceptibly, “That’s… unexpected. I’m sorry, I give you my well wishes.”

Now what the bloody hell did that mean?!

You’re summoning hellfire from your veins and about to totter up on creaky knees that were sure to be dust by now, to hurl an insult when Kyle’s clipped tone stops you.

“Didn’t ask for your apologies, mate.”

You’ve never heard sickeningly playful Kyle so obviously peeved before. You watch him cock his head in what you can only call an arrogant sneer that makes your traitorous core flutter.

“Who are you and what’s your relationship with Siggy that you’re giving out well wishes?”

You can practically see the lies rolling about in Hugo’s empty head when he sputters out some nonsensical tale about knowing you in passing and being friends that enrages you. Before you or Kyle knows it you’re popping up from your hiding spot and pushing Kyle aside. 

At least you attempt to but the man is as solid as a brick wall and doesn’t stumble for a moment under the pressure of your insistent hands.

(He does eventually give you the dignity of scooching over a smidge to allow you to stand at his left, which you suppose is generous of him.)

At the sight of you Madelyn lets out an unbecoming squeak and clutches at a stricken Hugo. You place your hands on your wide hips and enjoy the terror your very presence strikes in the two half wits before you. 

“Siggy? Have you been there the whole time?” Madelyn hides behind Hugo’s arm at your sneer. 

“No Madelyn, I just spirited here on my broom upon hearing lies!” 

Madelyn’s lip quivers as she hides her smaller form completely behind Hugo who finally gets his senses back.

“What were you doing behind the bush?” He is brave enough to pretend he isn’t struggling to meet your eyes, “And why aren’t you at work?” 

“Never mind that!” You give him your nastiest glare. “What were you saying just now, hm? You were explaining who we are to each other. Go on then!”

Hugo opens his mouth as if to speak but you cut him off and answer your own question. 

“Hugo here was my fiance,“ turning to Kyle you look him in his eye with a plastered smile stretching your lips. “at least he was as of three days ago before he let me know he and Madelyn here are expecting a bouncing bundle of joy!”

Kyle’s brow furrows as he looks from you and the now inflamed face of Hugo. 

“That’s really messed up-” he doesn’t have a chance to finish when Madelyn lets out a massive sob that cuts him off. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry Siggy! I ruined everything!” Madelyn clamps a hand over her mouth as fat tears befall her doe eyes. You open your mouth to tell her where to shove her apology but before you can she’s running off at speeds that may even rival Usain Bolt’s best timing.

Hugo shoots you a look of pure derision.

“Wonderful, look what you’ve done Siggy, very mature of you as always.”

You roll your eyes so hard you make yourself a bit dizzy. “Oh fuck off! You’re a lying, cheating, weasel and I don’t care if she cries. She deserves it!”

Hugo steps forward like he wants to challenge you but thinks better of it when Kyle shifts to stand in front of you. 

“Think you’ve done enough, mate. You should go check on your… Maddie.”

Hugo’s cheek twitches a bit but he has the sense to only shoot you another put out look and follow the wails into the building.  

“Well that was unpleasant.” With a huff you straighten your back avoiding Kyle’s heated gaze.

“Ha, friends! As if I would ever befriend someone so unbelievably-”

Kyle cuts you off with a hand on your shoulder. “Why didn’t you tell me the other night?”

With a glare you shrug off the offending limb and level him with a warning look.

“Because it wasn’t and still isn’t your business, Garrick, because we are also not friends. I’ve never come to you about my relationship woes and I’m not going to start now!”

Kyle doesn’t seem to like that at all. 

He presses forward and you’re scrambling backwards which only corners you against the hedge. He scrutinizes you for something in your expression, brown orbs flitting between your irises and across the bridge of your nose.

Your mouth parts in a small gasp when his stare trails to your lips, the soft swoosh of air brings his relentless focus back to your eyes. A safe place for his attention to be, you think. You don’t like the stirring in your loins that his attention fosters.

“We are friends.” he says finally after a silent beat. 

You sneer at him, opening your mouth to say something caustic about his comprehension skills but it dies in your throat at the steely look he spears you with. You’ve never seen the look before from him. It’s one of that relays he will not allow you to broach objections to his statement. 

You close your mouth with an audible click of your teeth.

“We are friends and I would have never comforted Madelyn had I known she did something to hurt you. Especially something like that.”

Your heart doesn’t know whether it wants to clamber up your throat to hurl itself out of your mouth to its death or just stop completely in your chest. Kyle’s expression is open and soft as you search for signs of a lie in his face. Finding none, your breathing is a bit waspish and your tear ducts are doing this odd itchy thing that confuses you.

It’s peculiar to you that your sworn enemy would choose to protect your feelings in such a way in comparison to maintaining niceties with another. It’s something that’s never happened to you before even with those you love.

You don’t want to examine why that makes you feel so utterly lonely and confused.

“Um, yes…” you clear your throat and avoid looking at him “thanks for that I suppose.” 

He gives you one of his bright smiles that he passes out like candy. “No need for thanks Siggy. That’s what friends are for.” 

You ignore him and hike your purse farther up your arm. “Yes well, I’m officially in line to be sacked if I don’t make it to work in the next ten minutes, so I have to go.”

Kyle shifts his duffel bag from one hand to the other to look at the watch on his wrist before letting out a considering hum. “I’m just headed in for drills and some paperwork, I’ll give you a lift.” 

That causes you to jerk back. First of all, you didn’t even know he had a car and secondly, you’re not sure if you can handle being in close quarters with him for any amount of time. 

“I don’t-” Kyle waves off the beginning of your protest and slips an arm between one of yours. “Really love, it’s fine. You’ll never make it if you take the train now.”

He’s right of course, but still. 

“Garrick, really it’s fine. I can call a car and pop over to the station, there’s really no need.”

He’s nodding his head listening and thwarting your excuses all the while shepherding you to the carport attached to the building. He stops in front of the sleekest and cleanest car you’ve ever seen and you can’t help but squawk.

“Sweet blueberries! This isn’t your car is it?”

He shoots you a nettlesome look as he makes a show of clicking the locks on the door. You give him an unimpressed look up and down in return. 

“A bit showy for a man of your career don’t you think?”

Kyle lets out a bark of laughter. “I’m not a priest Siggy, I’m allowed to have my toys too you know.” 

Your lips are pursed, not allowing yourself to snark that you both have a different definition of ‘toys’.

With the practiced grace of someone far too obsessed with the optics of being a lady, you slide into the car's interior as Kyle holds open the door. 

You think you hear him mumble a something flippant about having the Queen of England in his presence but he closes the door behind you before you can question it. He stops at the boot of the car to place his duffel bag before sliding into the driver’s seat. 

Bergamot and the citrusy scent of his after shave fills the space and your eyes flutter shut.

“Okay?”

You snap your eyes open and give him a scratchy ‘yes, lovely’ that you hope is convincing. 

During the drive you’re careful about keeping your gaze out the car's windscreen or the tinted window on your side as Kyle drives. You do happen to take a peek from behind lowered lashes at the way he handles the wheel with one hand. He’s steady and efficient in maneuvering in and out of London’s morning traffic. 

When he catches you peeking at him he shoots you a grin that you roll your eyes to. 

The exterior of your office building is foreboding and it takes a bit of effort not to groan seeing your boss’s parking spot occupied by her vehicle. Kyle raises a brow in concern as he stops at the curb in front of the lobby. 

“Well thank you for the ride Garrick. I need to make my grand entrance now and hope for the best.”

“It’s not a problem.” He looks like he wants to say something further and you give him a look to continue with your hand on the door.

“If you ever need another ride you can just knock on my door when I’m in-”

“Nope!” you cut him off and prop open the door in a hurry.

Turning you squat slightly to look at his narrowed eyes. “Thanks for the offer but one time is enough. Have fun doing… whatever it is you do, Garrick. Good day!”

You don’t wait for a reply and close the door, obscuring his disgustingly heart stopping look of confusion. Sweet blueberries the man would not trick you into lowering your guards!

Without a glance back you make quick strides into your 8 hour prison. The pair of security guards out front give you a knowing look that you stick your tongue at. No time for judgment; you had a high risk mission to complete. 

Carefully you stomp-sneak up the stairwell closest to the office you share with your co-worker Estelle.

Estelle’s bespectacled gaze widens at the sight of you standing outside the threshold, separated only by the glass door. She’s mouthing something frantically to you and jerking your head in a way that makes you concerned that she’s coming down with something. 

“Stellie darling," you say as you open the door "why do you look like you’re having a spasm? What’s-”

Your body flinches back violently at the sight of your boss perusing your assortment of figurines on your shelf with her hands clasped around her back. 

Oh bloody hell!

Estelle gives you a ‘I tried to warn you’ look with her face that you actively ignore. Always the professional bullshitter you plaster on a wide smile, inching towards your desk to drop your purse atop it.

“Good morning, Mrs. Montclair! I don’t think we have a meeting scheduled today, so to what do I owe the ple-”

“You’re late.” She turns to you with a thinly raised brow. You want to sink into your So Kate shoes at the withering look but you steel your back.

“Uh yes ma’am, I had a bit of trouble with getting to the train station-”

She looks startled. “Was there another Piccadilly situation?”

You share a look with Estelle.

It was no secret Aimee Montclair had developed a phobia of terrorism after the Piccadilly attacks a few years prior. Any mere mention of possible organized violence sent her in a tizzy of anxiety. 

Estelle shakes her head at you but eventually the dark skinned woman rolls her eyes, knowing exactly what unsavory thing you’re about to do. 

You furrow your brow and look at your feet, mustering up a tremor in your voice.

“No thank goodness! There was just a bit of a fray this morning, it was so frightening! Ever since those awful attacks I’ve been wrought with worry and I completely lost track of time looking for alternate transportation.”

Aimee nods her head in understanding.

Her weathered hands fuss with the chain on her neck in anxiety, as you assume she’s in the midst of working herself up. After a moment her artic blue eyes snap to you and she lets out a huff. 

“Yes well, don’t make tardiness a habit.” She looks from you to Estelle as she strides to the door past you, “Set aside time with me before lunch to discuss… well you know. Also, send the Morrigan contract to my assistant, I expect it within the hour.”

Without waiting for a reply she leaves in a whirlwind of silks and coiffed gray hair. 

Estelle throws the top of her pen at you. “You are such a dirty liar you know that right?”

You give her a sarcastic curtsy and make your way to your desk. 

“I do what I must to get results, Stellie. Besides, pause your judgment. I have to tell you about the circus of a morning I’ve had.” 

Estelle mumbles something under her breath about being chaotic evil but concedes. 

When you recount your tales of horror and the unexpected save by the awful man that is your neighbor she gasps.

“He said you were friends?”

You frown. “That’s not important, refocus please! Let’s discuss the Hugo situation.” 

She sucks her teeth and huffs, turning back to the game of solitaire hidden behind her open emails. “Let’s wait until lunch to discuss it with the girls.”

That perks you up. This was indeed a moment perfect for a little hen session over treats at Le Misa’s. “Good thinking Estelle, I’ll reserve a table and you text the girls. They’re going to want to hear this.”

A/N Had to split this chapter in half because as you can see it's very long lmao. Working on editing the second portion and hopefully it'll be out by tomorrow. (Don't quote me on that I have classes and am but a frantic pterodactyl.)

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[sissylittlefeather]

Double fic day...

It Feels So Right (how can it be wrong?): Part 2

A/N: This mini series is SO FUN. Just a reminder this is the one where ghost!Elvis possesses Austin during the filming of Elvis (2022). If you need to get caught up, read Part 1 here. Enjoy this second installment!

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, kissing, cussing, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex

Word count: ~2.5k

Elvis is nervous about how Austin will react when he finds out he used his body to go out with you, but what's done is done. And he has every intention of begging to let it happen again.

******

The next day at work, you deliver your coffees like you always do.

Elvis hasn't found a way to tell Austin what happened. Austin can tell something is going on, but he assumes it's just some weird ghost business and doesn't pry into why Elvis is acting strange.

But when you walk up to Austin, Elvis tries to catch his attention.

"Austin. Man, I-"

"Hey!" He looks at you and then looks around to make sure you're talking to him.

"Hi..."

"I brought you a coffee. You said you like two creams and two sugars, right?" Elvis puts his face in his hand. That's his coffee order. He's not even sure what Austin would want.

"Oh... umm..." You look at him and your smile falls. You thought something special happened last night, but maybe it was just another in a long line of one night stands for him.

"Anyway. Here." You hand him the coffee and then walk back to where you normally stand, waiting for someone else to tell you what to do. You take a deep breath and try to make sure you don't let the tears that are trying to gather fall down your face.

"Goddamnit." Elvis whispers under his breath. Austin turns to him.

"What the hell was that?"

"You really don't remember anything when I'm... in you... do you?"

"No. What did you do?!" Elvis sighs and tries to think of how he can explain what happened between you last night.

"Well..."

"Elvis. They're going to call for me on set soon. Start talking."

"We went out last night."

"We?!"

"Me and her. But she thinks it was you..."

"You just thought you'd borrow me for the evening?"

"Look, I'm sorry, but I really like her and it was... it was really great."

"Elvis, did you have sex with her in my body?" Elvis cringes and looks down at the floor.

"Mayyybeee..."

"Elvis! What the hell?!"

"I'm sorry! You said no and I just really like her..."

"If you'd asked again, I probably would've said yes."

"Wait? Really?"

"Yes. But you didn't ask-"

"I know. I'm sorry. I won't do it again. I promise."

"We had sex?"

"... yes..."

"It was good?"

"Austin, it was incredible. She's amazing-"

"It's my turn."

"What?"

"I'm taking her out tonight. And you stay out. I wanted to ask her out, so I'm going to." Elvis stands there speechless. This is not what he expected. He expected anger or permission to continue. But this is something totally different. He did not expect competition. Austin takes a sip of the coffee you brought him and winces.

"Two creams and two sugars, dude? Have you never heard of a latte?"

Elvis rolls his eyes and Austin turns and walks towards you.

"Hey! I'm sorry I was awkward. Thank you for the coffee. What are you doing tonight?" You look up suddenly, a bright smile on your face.

"Oh, nothing! You wanna hang out?"

"Yeah, that'd be awesome. Can I pick you up around 7?"

"Yes!" He leans forward and kisses your cheek and whispers in your ear.

"I'll see you then." He walks out to the set and you blush. You try to focus on what you're supposed to be doing but the only thing in your head is the fact that you might actually be dating Austin Butler.

What you don't see is the smirk Austin shoots to Elvis. As he passes him to get to where he's going, he whispers.

"Game on, man."

******

That night, Austin shows up at your door dressed far more casually than the night before. Also, his hair is messier and he seems more confident.

"Hey, baby. You ready?" You nod. Apparently sleeping with you was an ego boost of some kind, but you're not exactly complaining. He seems to be more at home in himself and the confidence is hot.

For your date, he first takes you to a small restaurant he's found while he's been in town. It's a hole-in-the-wall type of place, but the food is amazing. Next, he takes you for cocktails at a local bar. It's small and intimate, but upscale nonetheless. After that, you find yourself back at his place on his couch.

This date somehow feels completely opposite of the one last night, but it's not bad, it's just different. He's just as sweet and thoughtful as he was the night before. He settles onto the couch next to you and throws his arm around you.

"You wanna watch something?"

"Sure. What did you have in mind?"

"Anything you want, baby."

What you don't know about this date is that Elvis is there the whole time. He tries to stay quiet, but throughout the evening he finds himself giving tips to Austin about what you like and don't like. The competitive side of him is begging him to shut up, but he also wants to see you taken care of. Austin is doing his best to ignore him, though. He wants to earn your affection in his own right.

"Well. What's your favorite Elvis media?" You ask. Elvis laughs.

"Ha! She's still thinking about me." Austin looks at him and rolls his eyes. He wants to yell at him that she didn't know it was him, but he also doesn't want to appear crazy.

"That feels like work for me, baby. We can watch something if you want, though..."

"Oh, no! I'm sorry. I didn't even think of it that way. We can watch whatever you want."

"How about some music?"

"Yes! Even better." He stands up and walks over to a record player and starts flipping through albums.

"Most everything I have is oldies. Is that okay?" You smile. Elvis scoffs. Oldies.

"That's the music I grew up with."

"Alright then. Fleetwood Mac, Three Dog Night, America, or Elton John?"

"Oh, man. That might be the hardest question anyone's ever asked me." Austin looks at you softly. You really are something else. "America. I'm in a mood tonight."

"I love it." Austin smiles. Elvis wishes you'd asked for something a little more his style, but he respects that you like what you like. The greatest hits album plays and Austin sits down next to you on the couch again. He fidgets with your hair on your shoulder absentmindedly. You turn to face him and you feel the energy between you become charged with something. He leans in slowly and presses his lips to yours. His hand cups your cheek and he kisses you again softly. The next time he leans in, it's an open-mouth kiss and his tongue slides into your mouth passionately.

But something is different. You can't quite put your finger on what it is, but the way he's kissing you is slightly different from last night. As he kisses down your neck, you decide that maybe you're just remembering wrong. Besides, this is excellent. Why would you complain? He sucks lightly on a spot near your collarbone.

"I don't think she'll like that." Elvis is still standing next to the couch. He's trying not to watch but his curiosity gets the best of him. Austin wants to ask if he plans to stay the whole time, but he can't really do that without freaking you out.

You moan softly as Austin's hands go to your breasts and he lays you down on the couch, situating himself on top of you. He pulls your shirt off quickly and then takes his off and you're shocked that he's moving this quickly. Last night you had to practically force him to touch you and tonight he's already got you half naked. Maybe it's just because this isn't the first time you've been together. His lips are all over your body as he kisses and licks your chest.

Elvis scoffs.

"You're paying too much attention to her top. Move down." Austin is trying so hard not to hear what Elvis is saying, but it's really starting to drive him crazy.

"Give me just a second, baby." Austin stands up and walks over to the record player. As he does, he mouths to Elvis. "GO. AWAY."

"What? It's not like she can see me. Besides, it looks like you need the help." He turns the music up really loud and walks back over to the couch. You look at him a little strangely and he smiles.

"Sorry, I just... wanted it... loud..." Elvis cracks up laughing at Austin trying to cover for his weird behavior. Austin goes back to kissing you and slides your pants down and off. Elvis rolls his eyes and turns his back. He doesn't really want to watch you with another man. Austin looks at you naked on the couch and shakes his head.

"Goddamn, baby, you're gorgeous." You smile. That sounds like him. He settles between your thighs on the couch and lowers his mouth to your clit. Your back arches as he moves his tongue over and around your sensitive bud. He pushes two fingers into you and spreads them, stretching you out as he licks you. That's new, but it feels good, so you don't protest. You feel your orgasm building as he keeps working his mouth on you.

"Oh, God, Austin." You moan.

"She's about to cum. Don't stop." Elvis hollers over the music. He can tell even without looking. Austin has to use every ounce of his acting skills to keep it together and stay focused on you. But Elvis is right. Your hand goes to his hair as you shudder and pulse around his fingers, your orgasm washing over you like a curtain of intense pleasure. He pulls back and wipes his mouth with his hand.

"You want me to fuck you, baby?" That's a slightly shocking difference from last night, but it's still hot, so you nod as he drops his pants and crawls on top of you. Elvis puts his face in his palm. He's wracking his brain for a way to get Austin to stop, but he can't think of anything. Instead, he stands faced away looking up at the ceiling while Austin pushes into you and begins to fuck you steadily.

"Yes! Yes!" You cry out breathlessly and Elvis hollers again.

"She's gonna cum again." Austin is so close to his own orgasm that he finally loses control.

"GODDAMNIT ELVIS DO YOU WANT TO DO THIS?!" He pulls out and sits up, looking at Elvis, who turns around slowly.

"You were doing just fine-"

"And yet you couldn't keep your mouth shut!" You look at Austin and over in the corner where he's looking. There's nothing there.

"Austin, what the hell-"

"I can see Elvis! Okay? I see him. He's here."

"You..."

"And sometimes he possesses me and does some of the movie. Last night, he thought he would take me for a joy ride and go out with you. That was him last night. Not me." Elvis looks between you to see how you'll respond to this information.

"Austin, I know you've worked really hard to get into this role..."

"No- I mean I have- but this is not that. I swear he's right over there." He gestures to Elvis in the corner who waves awkwardly, but you can't see him. That's when you realize that you're naked and grab your shirt to cover yourself.

"Tell her I've already seen her naked. She doesn't have to cover up for me." Austin rolls his eyes.

"Elvis says he's already seen you naked."

"Oh. Wait. He's really actually here?"

"Yep."

"And he takes over your body sometimes?"

"He does."

"And that was him last night and not you?!"

"Yes."

"Prove it." Elvis and Austin answer at the same time.

"What?"

"Prove it. What did you call me last night?"

"What do you mean?"

"You called me a specific pet name all night. What was it?"

"I don't know. Honey? I know he says honey a lot."

"Nope. Wrong. Let me talk to him." Austin stands up and pulls his pants back on. Then he looks over at Elvis.

"You heard the lady. Come on." Elvis nods slowly and then jumps. He opens his eyes in Austin's body. He sits down next to you on the couch and reaches his hand out to touch your cheek. He'll never get enough of the way your skin feels.

"Hey, doll." You close your eyes and lean into his touch.

"It really is you."

"It's me. And I called you doll."

"That's why everything has been so different tonight."

"Yes, I've been trying to tell him-"

"Wait. You've been here the whole time. Were you watching us-"

"No! I swear I turned my back. You can ask Austin." You look at him suspiciously.

"Can I talk to Austin?"

"I'll have to jump out and then you won't be able to see or hear me."

"But he will. So he can tell me what you say. If he lies, just come back."

"Alright then. Can I kiss you first?" You nod and he leans in and presses his lips to yours. He kisses you softly a few times and then pulls back. Elvis pulls himself out of Austin and sits on the other side of you on the couch. Austin shakes his head and blinks.

"Do you remember what happens when he's possessing you?"

"I don't."

"That's why you were so weird about the coffee this morning."

"Yes! Also I drink a vanilla latte. Elvis drinks coffee."

"Wow." You sit for a second trying to absorb what just happened.

"So which one does she pick?" Elvis asks Austin tentatively.

"I don't know, man." He turns to you. "He wants to know which one of us you pick."

"Pick?"

"To date." Elvis nods to Austin, who nods back. "We both want to know."

"Why do I have to pick? What if I want you both?"

"You can't even see Elvis!"

"No, but I can when he possesses you. I want you both." You stand up and put your clothes on while the two men sit dumbfounded on the couch. Once you're dressed, you turn and face Austin on the couch. "Where is he?"

"He's here next to me on the couch."

"Alright then." You look where you think he is and then back at Austin. "Figure it out, boys. Make a schedule or something. But I want you both."

You lean down and kiss Austin on the cheek. Then you turn to the other side of the couch and blow a kiss to Elvis.

"I'll see you in the morning. Y'all have fun coming up with a plan for how this will work." You walk to the front door and slip out, closing it behind you.

Elvis and Austin look at each other and bust out laughing. When they stop, Austin sighs and Elvis clicks his tongue. Elvis speaks first.

"Man, she's somethin' else."

"You got that right."

"I guess we better figure it out."

"I guess so..."

******

Until Part 3

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @atleastpleasetelephone @cinnamoroll-things @returntopresley

[lcmonriize]

˖！⩩﹕៹࣪ THE MISUNDERSTANDINGS bang chan ver ! . . . in which you break up with him because of a misunderstanding. angst, sad ending. requests open !!

an unsent message. that was all it took for you to finally snap. you and bang chan had been together for about a year or two now and you were well aware of his busy schedule, one that usually didn't bother you, except during times in which he'd need to raincheck, which was about always. none of the times escalated to as far as you standing outside a restaurant, in the rain with a phone that wasn't turning on, absolutely shattered. where was he? it had been 5 hours and you could not contact anyone and he was nowhere to be found.

out on his side, he had just finished recording with the guys, with a tired smile as he could finally spend the rest of his night with you, all cuddled up by the television with some snacks. especially to make up for his latest raincheck, surely a nice night in would make up for it. as he went to message you to assure you he was on his way, he noticed an unsent message in the bar,

'I'm sorry, baby. we'll be a little late today. by the time I get there the restaurant will be closed, I'll make it up to you, okay? ♥"

shit.

the unsent message and your lack of replies could only mean one thing. you were at the restaurant, probably confused about why he accidentally stood you up.

bang chan hurried over to the restaurant to find you sitting under one of the umbrella-covered chairs, holding your knees to shield yourself from the cold. you met his gaze and immediately you saw red.

"where were you?" you stand up, walking closer to him, shivering from the cold.

"I'm sorry I was at the studio... I- I thought-" your eyes widened with anger, a sharp gasp causing him to stop.

"at the studio? so you're telling me, I was in the pouring rain for hours, trying to contact you and you ignored me because you were, at the studio. " the words left your mouth with bitter undertones, your eyes beginning to tear up from being overwhelmed.

"just take me home, chris."

there was an uncomfortable silence for a bit as he drove, happy together playing silently in the background, leaving a loud contrast from what you were really feeling.

"I think... I think we should break up" it was comforting to hear your voice again, but also scary as he felt his heart quicken with fear.

"w-what...? why aren't we okay?" he glances at you, trying to keep his focus on the road ahead but he surely can't when there's an ache in his hands at your words

"okay? chris, i wanna be more than okay. I feel like this" you gesture to the both of you. "this is causing you even more stress than you should be having and I don't think I can handle this either."

he's silent for a bit, the heart-shattering in his chest loud enough for someone to hear if close enough.

"but- we were fine before, right? I thought you said my job wasn't gonna affect us" he is frantic, his words coming out in a hurry.

"there's a difference between you rain-checking and not checking on me whilst I'm in the rain" It was a joke, delivered in a heartbroken harsh manner but it was still something, right?

"I forgot to send you the message, I'm sorry." his face is worried, reasonably of course as he makes a stop at your home, the home you've had ever since you two were together.

" I understand that. and to prevent it, this is what I'm doing, chris." and before he can even try reasoning with you, you're shutting the door in his face, rushing into your home, leaving him there with both heartbreak and regret

[kaliforniahigh]

MEDUSA - Part Six.

This is the longest chapter so far. Finally they're letting some feelings show :')

Warnings: death threat, curse words, mentions of guns.

WC: 2.8k

Summary: Y/N is a private dancer at a Gentleman's Club called Medusa. Noah Sebastian is a crime boss. Their paths cross when one night, Noah pays for one of her dances and they can't seem to be apart from each other.

Series Masterlist

Noah was sitting on his chair in his office when he heard three knocks on the door. Telling the person behind it to come in, he saw Jolly with an envelope on his hands.

"Hey, this was left on the front door not too long ago. No one saw who delivered it and we didn't want to open it because it's addressed to you", he said, making his way into the office and handing Noah the envelope over the table.

"Well, I don't usually receive letters", he responded, with an edge of suspicion in his voice. "I'm gonna open it. Thank you, Jolly"

The other man nodded, and said if he needed anything, they were available, leaving and closing the door behind him. Noah looked over the envelope, seeing that it was indeed addressed to him, his full name written on the front. Flipping it over, there was nothing else written on the back.

Ripping the envelope open and taking out a piece of paper, he saw it was a handwritten letter. He unfolded it and began to read.

I know what you've been doing, lover boy. To be fair, she is a pretty little thing. I wouldn't be able to let her out of my eyesight either. Is she in your eyesight now? What do you think she is doing? Well, too bad whores don't always have a happy ending. Take care, JC.

Noah was used to receiving threats, they're not uncommon in his life and he has send out a few of his own. But they were always directed at him or one of the boys. But this one was a direct message to you.

His hands were shaking and he had to take his coat off because he suddently felt like he couldn't breath. He had to stop and think about what you were doing right now. It was night and you were probably at work. He had to get there as soon as possible. He couldn't afford to think that it was too late.

Before he got the chance to stand and make his way out, his phone rang. It was you. He picked up in a haste and wasn't able to get a word out before you were talking to him.

"Noah, oh my God. He sent me a threat, here, at work. I don't know what to do", he heard the desperation in your voice and he could tell you've been crying.

"I know, I got one as well. Listen, where are you right now?", he tried to talk as quickly as he can, not wanting to waste anymore time. Already grabbing his coat and wallet, making his way out of the room.

"I'm in the room where I usually meet clients. The envelope was on the chair and no one saw who delivered it. How can people not see someone coming in and out, Noah?", you said in disbelief.

"I need you to stay there. Are there keys on the door for you to lock them?"

"No, they don't leave the keys here for our safety. Noah, are you coming here?", your voice was small and he felt a pang in his chest.

"Yes, I'm on my way, honey. Stay on the phone with me, I'm not hanging up until I get there", he looked around and spotted one of his security guards, demanding that they check the security footage on the front door and yard. Running out of the door and getting in his car.

You went quiet, the only indicator that you were still on the line was your heavy breathing. The sound of a car speeding filling your ears.

"Noah, he called me a whore" you broke the silence and also his heart.

"You're not a whore, he only said those things to get to you. Don't let him get to you", he wished he could teleport to you and engulf you in his arms right this moment.

"He said no one cares about whores like me. I mean, he isn't wrong. All I'm good for is shaking my ass for some cash. If I'm gone tomorrow, they're just gonna replace for another pretty girl", you couldn't help but let your thoughts roam out loud.

"Please, don't say those things about yourself. I care about you and I'm coming to get you and nothing is gonna happen, ok?", you answered softly and he heard you take a sharp intake of breath on the other side. "I'm pulling up outside. I'll be there in a minute, don't worry. Can you meet me at the back entrance?"

"Yeah, I'll get my bag and meet you there", you answered, getting up from your position on the couch.

"Can't you come straight to the back entrance? I don't want you roaming around in there anymore than you need to", he tried not to be too paranoid as to not alarm you anymore. But every second that went by with you not by his side, was another second of him wondering if you were ok.

"Noah, I'm currently wearing a bra and panties. I have to get my bag. I'll stay on the phone", he didn't like it, but agreed nonetheless and told you to be quick.

In about three minutes, he saw you leaving. You spotted his car instantly and ran to it, getting in the passenger seat. He got your bag from your hands and put it in the backseat. You could feel the tension leaving your body as soon as you were in Noah's presence, finally feeling some sense of security.

"Noah, what am I gonna do?", you asked, running your hands over your face.

"You won't have to do anything. This is on me and I'm gonna keep you safe. You won't have to worry about that", you got a good look at him and realized that he actually thought this was his fault.

"This is not on you. I texted you, telling you to come here so I could give you the information. I fell into this by myself", you tried to reason.

"And I went to your house and gave you my number", he was unwavering and you decided that it wasn't worth it arguing about whose fault it was at the moment. "I'm gonna take you to a safehouse. I'm not gonna take you to my house because I got a note delivered there as well, so it isn't 100% safe", you only nodded, trying to grasp how your life did a complete 180 in just a few hours.

As he drove, he made a few calls, informing everyone of what's happened and giving orders of things he needed done. Not too long after, you were leaving civilization behind and all you could see were trees lininig the gravel road.

Noah took a right turn, the forest getting denser now, only giving way to the car driving through the marked path. You looked up through the windshield and you could barely see the sky above the top of the trees.

Stopping at a gate, you noticed a few men around the perimeter, all carrying guns on their hands and their holsters. You tried not to think about it. Just after the gate, Noah parked the car in front of a small wood cabin. Despite all those men outside and the situation you were in, you could admit that the place was beautiful.

Noah got out of the car and you followed suit, you noticed the wind was chilly and the air was clean. You looked up once again and as the trees swished from the gusts of air, you could see the sky was littered with stars.

"It's nice out here. I wish we were here under different circumstances, but I hope you enjoy the scenery anyways", he said, your bag was in his hands and you only nodded and gave a small smile. He led the way to the entrance. The lock was automatic, it read his fingerprint and you heard it unlock. You figured this place was only simple from the outside. It is a safehouse after all.

He got in and dropped your bag on a small table by the door. You looked around and there was a living room to your right and the kitchen to your left, a dining table between the two spaces.

"The bathroom is at the end of the corridor, your room is the door on the left and mine the door on the right", he pointed forward and you could see the doors leading to the rooms and the bathroom.

"I think I'm gonna take a shower", you looked at him and saw that he was taking his coat off, a simple black tank top underneath, revealing his tattooed arms and shoulders. For a second you were distracted by the way he moved. His biceps flexing as he reached up to hang his coat. His hair getting in his face, he pushed it out of his eyes as he turned around to aknowledge you.

"Yeah, are you hungry? I can make us something to eat", he totally caught you checking him out if the smirk on his face was any indicator.

"Sure, I'll be right back", you tried to get out of the situation as fast as possible. You just received a death threat, you did not need to have a crush on this man. Grabbing your bag, you made your way to the bathroom and locked the door.

Noah stayed in the living room, making sure everything was in it's place. He had someone come here and clean up every week, but he still wanted to check. He made his way to the bedroom you were going to be staying at. There were clean sheets and pillowcases already on the bed, so he didn't have to worry abou that.

Opening the fridge he started on the task of making you something to eat. A sub would have to suffice for now. He would get someone to pick up groceries later. He heard the bathromm door open and seconds later you came walking into the living room. You hair was wet and he could smell your perfume freshly applied. You were wearing a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, looking rather comfortable.

You sat down in one of the chairs on the dining table. "What's on the menu for tonight?", you asked, trying to make light of the situation. You felt safe here and figured there was not much you could worry about for now.

He approached the table with one plate in each hand. "I made us a sandwich, I hope that's okay? I'll get someone to buy groceries so we can eat some actual food", he set one plate in front of you and sat down across the table.

"It's perfect, thank you", you really were grateful and you hoped he knew that. After a couple of bites, you couldn't contain your curiosity any longer. "What's gonna happen now?", you asked him.

"You'll have to stay here until we can get this problem solved", he answered, and you could tell he was holding something back.

"And how are you gonna get this problem solved?", you inquired. You felt like you knew how, but you wanted him to talk to you, you needed some sense of clarity amidst all this darkness.

He sighed out loud, setting his sandwich down on his plate and preparing himself to say this to you. He didn't want you knowing anymore than necessary, but since you were already dragged into this, the least he could do is be sincere with you.

"There's this group, you could say they're our competition. They want to take over the bussiness in the city and in order to do that, they have to eliminate my friends and I", you flinched when said "eliminate", he noticed, but continued nonetheless. "When I went to Medusa the first time we met, it was a recommendation from my friend, he said I needed a scape from this situation. Some of our shipments were stolen, some came with only half of the supplies and others disappeared all together. I was kind of losing my mind"

You were paying close attention to his words, he wasn't specific and you were curious about what they shipped from overseas, but refrained from asking. "That day I went to your house, we were at the port talking to our supplier when their group attacked us. They took us off guard but we were able to get out of there with only minor injuries", you smiled, knowing he was talking about Jolly and the fact that you patched him up that night.

"We think that was a test for what's to come", he said this part lower, half hoping you weren't going to hear him or that you wouldn't question it. That was proved wrong when you asked what that means as soon as the words left his lips.

"We have a big shipment coming soon, the biggest of the year. And we think that what you heard at the club can be a reference to that. They're gonna strike again, but this time they're gonna do it for real"

Noticing you were uneasy about this information, he tried to comfort you. "Thanks to you, now we are prepared and we can anticipate what is coming our way. You really helped us." He reached across the table to take your hand in his and give it a squeeze.

You appreciated the way he always tried to take care of your emotions, and even though you were in this situation now, you decided that you did the right thing by telling him what you heard.

When he went to your house unannounced, it made you so angry that you didn't see the way he took care of people around him. He was there because he was worried about one of his best friends. And now he is here with you because he is worried about you. You felt your heart soften for him more and more.

You both finished your sandwiches in silence, but it was comfortable rather than awkward, and you missed the warmth of his hand on top of yours.

You tried to take the plates to the sink to wash them, but Noah didn't let you, telling you to go to the living room instead, and pick something for you to watch and that he'll join you in a few minutes.

You saw an array of DVD's on the shelves on both sides of the TV. You tried to steer clear of any romantic movies or horror movies, so you picked My Neighbor Totoro, one of your favorites. You heard Noah let a hum of appreciation from behind you, pleased with your choice.

You noticed he sat two blankets on the couch, one for you and one for him. The couch wasn't too big, but still, you sat on one end of it and he sat on the other.

"I wish we had popcorn now", you noted and pouted a little.

"I'll make sure to add it to the list", he chuckled a little at your disappointment towards the lack of popcorn.

You both got quiet and settled into your spots to watch the movie. Halfway through, you could feel you eyelids getting heavier, sleep seeping into your body that has finally calmed down from the events of the day.

Noah looked over at you and saw your eyes closed, soft breaths leaving through your nose. He admired you for a few seconds, looking so soft bundled up under your blanket, so different from the tough woman that greeted him on your doorstep just a couple of days ago.

Het let you nap for a while, not wanting to disturb you, but as he started feeling tired himself, he decided it was smart to move to the bedroom. He tried to shake you awake, calling your name softly, but you stirred a little and went right back to sleep. He smiled to himself.

Decided to not leave you on the couch and risk you waking up with a stiff neck, he grabbed your legs and waist from under the cover, lifting you up with ease and carrying you to the bedroom. You arms instinctively went around his neck and you head rested on his shoulder. He shivered a little from your touch, but tried to not think about it.

You were under so much stress and he didn't want to feel inappropriate around you. You were beautiful and he couldn't deny his attraction towards you. But now wasn't the time to act on it. Maybe when this was all over, you would let him take you out on a date.

Setting you on the bed and covering you from head to toe, he smoothed you hair from your face. He closed the curtains so you wouldn't wake up with the sun in your eyes. Taking one last look at you, he softly closed the door behind him and went to his own room to rest for the night.

Tag list: @concreteangel92 @millie-aubs @mostlypanicking @thisbicc @rebelheart90 @moranastray @xmads-omensx @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @lma1986 @skyemanzsstuff @theroyaldixon @mindlesssweets @dravenskye @sundamariis @flowery-mess @badomensls @loeytuan98 @cheyyyyr @dominuslunae @jaded-and-hollow-souls

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!

Dividers: @cafekitsune

[kiss-me-cill-me]

oh my godddd that jonathan crane fic did SOMETHING to me 😩❤️!!! it was so good :)) i need some more professor crane in my life 🫦 maybe u could write a part 2 where they eventually start dating and she’s still his student but she keeps teasing him during his lectures and he’s trying to keep his cool but again when everyone leaves he drags her into his office to put her in her place again 😳😢😢

Aaaah, thank you so much!! I like the way you think - a little turn of the tables where reader teases him hehe... I accidentally also started writing a third part to this, so expect more Professor Crane in your life at some point soon, sweet anon <3

Oral Fixation

Pairing: Professor!Jonathan Crane x Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Summary: It's the start of a new semester, and you're looking forward to the chance to take revenge on your professor. Crane, however, isn't about to let you have the satisfaction. At least not without putting in a little work.

Warnings: Smut, teasing, tropes galore, oral (m receiving), almost-deepthroating, brief mention of toys (but none used), degradation, dumbification, power play dynamics, office sex, established student/teacher relationship

A/N: This fic is technically a Part 2 to THIS, but tbh there is no plot here at all so I think it's also fine to read as a standalone. Enjoy!

***Please read the warnings before continuing. Minors DNI***

You sat in the front row, as usual, nervously tapping your feet. Students to the left and right of you socialized, catching up after their time off for winter break. But of course, all you could focus on was one thing.

Dr. Crane brushed into the room, and you felt your shallow breath stop for a moment. He glanced at you, smiled briefly, and your heart melted.

He made you feel something that none of these silly college boys in the seats next to you could ever hope to. He was confident, self-assured, and mature. It made you swoon just to think about him, standing at the front of the classroom as he delivered a lecture; captivating you and the rest of his students with words alone. Listening to him speak was always enough to make you forget where you were for a moment.

That, and thinking about the dozens of times he had fucked you over the desk in his office. 

You smiled to yourself, remembering the series of secret trysts that you had shared with your professor. Now, with a new semester starting, you were eager to pick back up where you’d left off. You hadn't been able to see Crane at all over the lengthy winter break, and although you had talked with him a few times, you had long ago reached the point of desperation. You needed to feel his touch. Dr. Crane felt similarly; he had assured you.

Now that Crane had taken his place at the front of the room, it was time to put your secret plan into action.

You took out a tube of chapstick, uncapping it with a loud pop. Glancing briefly up to make sure your professor was watching, you rubbed it slowly over your bottom lip, making sure to keep steady eye contact.

Crane watched, a hint of a curious look on his face. He narrowed his eyes just a fraction of an inch as you rubbed your lips together, darting your tongue out to get a taste of the subtle flavor. Then, you smiled, and put the chapstick back in your bag.

Clearing his throat, Crane called the class to attention. Conversations died down as all eyes focused on him, yours included. You subtly bit your lip, making sure to catch his eye, and Crane faltered for an almost imperceptible half-second before regaining his usual grace. 

“Welcome to Advanced Concepts in Psychopharmacology,” he said to the room. There was a brief murmur of papers as a few people opened their notebooks, before Dr. Crane continued. “I'm happy to see some familiar faces-” he glanced at you again, but continued smoothly. “And I think you'll all find this class very rewarding, but challenging.”

He looked directly at you as he said “challenging,” perhaps already guessing at what you had in store for him.

You chewed on the cap of your pen, holding his eye contact and smiling as you held the tip between your teeth. Dr. Crane shifted a little, adjusting some papers he had stacked on the podium.

“Now,” he said. “Can I ask for a volunteer to help hand out copies of the syllabus?”

You raised your hand, still slowly sucking on your pen cap, bottom lip pressed lightly into its edge. Crane called on you, even as he was still wearing that slightly funny expression that you had never seen on him before. His brows furrowed a bit more than usual as you came up to take the stack of papers.

“Thank you,” he said. And then added, a bit lower so that only you could hear, “I thought you were done volunteering in my classes.”

“Only for your ‘demonstrations’ on teasing me,” you whispered back.

You turned on your heel, walking off to hand out the syllabi. You had, very purposefully, worn a pair of tight leggings with nothing else to cover your ass, and you made sure to lean over all of the desks as you picked your way through the rows of students, giving your flustered professor a small show.

When you finally took your seat, a faint pink color had crept over Dr. Crane’s cheeks, although his lips remained in a tight line. To anyone else in the class, it would mean nothing - if they even noticed. But you were watching him intently, and you were quite pleased by the results that even a little teasing had on your professor.

You weren’t immune to its effects, either. You rubbed your legs together, thinking about what was sure to happen just as soon as Crane could get you alone. You settled back into your seat, and dug around in your bag for your chapstick.

For the rest of class, as Crane went over the syllabus and answered increasingly ridiculous questions from the other students, you subtly continued to work away at him. Every time his eyes darted over, you would be sure to stick out your tongue, just a bit to press against the tip of the pen. Twice, you reapplied chapstick - and one time you managed to make Crane trail off, utterly losing his train of thought right in the middle of a sentence. It was obvious that you were getting to him. Though only he and you could have known about it.

You glanced down to check your watch. Only five minutes were left in class. It was time to pull out your final weapon.

Crane watched incredulously as you slowly unwrapped a lollipop. You dared to give him a small wink before sticking it in your mouth. Your eyes fluttered shut as you savored the fruity taste and the feel of the candy against your tongue. You dragged it out from between your lips, letting it linger in front of your mouth for just a moment. Peeking from beneath one eyelid, you saw Crane’s gaze fixed on you. You opened your eyes fully to look at him, shamelessly watching his reaction as you stuck out your tongue and pressed it flat against the sucker.

“I'm… I'm sorry, where was I?” Crane stammered. He pinched the bridge of his nose, lifting up his glasses, and sighed. “I'm afraid I have a slight headache.”

Someone else in the front row raised their hand, helping Crane recall what he had been talking about. There were more than a few murmurs from the class, and you couldn't help but smile. You knew you'd be in for it later, and you suddenly couldn’t wait to get in trouble.

“And with that, I'll dismiss you all a few minutes early,” Crane said briskly. “My apologies, but I really need to go take care of this headache.”

He looked directly at you again, and you shifted your hips in your seat. The class packed up quickly, everyone eager to get on with the rest of their first day. You lingered, keeping the sucker lodged in your mouth as you watched Dr. Crane gather his belongings. He held his briefcase, a bit awkwardly, in front of his body as he stepped out from behind the lecturer’s podium, and made his way over to your seat.

“I need your help with something in my office.”

Most of the other students had exited the room already, and you checked around to make sure no one was within earshot.

“What do you need my help with?” you teased, feigning innocence.

You swirled the lollipop in your mouth, parting your lips as you looked up at your professor. He sighed heavily through his nose.

“I'll tell you when we get there. Let's go,” he said, impatiently.

“I have another class after this,” you protested.

“Well, now you have a very important appointment,” he countered. “You'll just have to beg your other professor to excuse your absence.”

The classroom was empty now, except for the two of you, and Crane leaned down over your desk as he lowered his voice to a menacing timbre.

“After you're done begging me.”

You jumped up, already feeling excitement swell between your legs. The smile on your lips was mirrored by Crane’s own grating, serious expression. The corners of his mouth turned down as he walked with you out of the room, his hand at your elbow to guide you as you made your way through the psychology building. Luckily, his office wasn't a very far walk.

Crane opened the door, and went through first. As soon as you’d followed him, he slammed the door shut and pushed you against it, his lips already at your neck.

“You seem to have developed a new oral fixation over winter break,” he muttered, hot breath fanning over your pulse. “Why is that, I wonder?”

His question was obviously rhetorical, so you didn't answer; instead, humming around the piece of candy still stuck in your mouth as Crane’s lips bruised against your neck.

“You're a bit bolder than I remember, too,” Crane continued. “Teasing me in the middle of class.”

You smiled.

“Nothing that you haven't done to me, too… professor,” you replied, pulling the sucker out of your mouth.

“That may be true, but I at least still have the sense to be subtle about it.” Crane backed away to look at you, and lust flared deep in his eyes. “You were lucky that no one else saw you practically fucking this thing with your tongue.”

He grabbed the sucker out of your hand, and threw it roughly into the trash. A warm thrill of feverish excitement rushed over you. Crane almost never swore; when he did, it meant he was really riled up. Your smile widened, as you leaned a little closer.

“I'm sorry. I was just looking for a way to occupy my mouth,” you laughed. “What did you call it? Oral fixation?”

Crane pinched your chin a bit too roughly, forcing you to look up at him as he cocked his head.

“It's really only cute when you play dumb if it's because you're getting fucked stupid,” he grunted. “If you want something to fixate on, get on your knees.”

You were eager to oblige. Quickly, you dropped down to kneel on the floor of his office. Delighted, you saw that Crane was already hard, the outline of his cock straining prominently against his pants. You reached up to undo his belt, but Crane slapped your hands away.

“You want to use your mouth so badly? Then use it. No hands.”

He finished loosening his belt, holding it to the side to help you along. Your nose brushed up against his shirt as you brought your mouth to the hem of his pants. The fabric was rough against your lips, and you looked up at your professor for a moment.

“Get on with it,” he sighed, clearly impatient and dying to get on with things just as much as you were.

But you wanted to make him wait for a while. Slowly, you leaned back, pulling at the fabric of his pants until it finally slipped over the button. You paused, and sighed heavily to let your breath wash over him.

“A little faster, darling,” Crane urged.

You smirked, happy to see that he was already regretting making you use your mouth when your hands would have been faster. All that was left now was his zipper. You took the little metal tab carefully between your teeth, and lowered your whole body to drag it down.

Crane was still trapped in the confines of his pants, and he reached in hastily to free himself, apparently not trusting you to take your time with that. His cock glistened, already coated with excitement. You leaned up to take him in your mouth, but Crane stopped you, bracing his thumb against your chin. Suddenly, he was the one holding you back.

“You know, oral fixations only develop when something a person needs is withheld,” Crane told you. “Is that what happened to you? You went a few weeks without sucking me off, and now it's all you can think about?”

You were about to respond, when Crane stuck his thumb in your mouth. You moaned around it; the sudden intrusion shocking, but not unwelcome.

“Look at you,” Crane scoffed, more than a bit of his usual poise and control creeping back into his voice. “So desperate for something in your mouth. Seeing you like this makes me think of that time you let me fuck you over a table in the lecture hall - remember that?”

You remembered it very well, and hummed around his finger, swirling it against your tongue as you nodded. 

“Of course you do, darling,” Crane muttered. “You’ve probably been thinking about me splitting you open like that for the last three weeks straight while you try to get off with some pathetic vibrator. Am I right?”

You looked up to see a harsh glint of fluorescent light shine off of his glasses. From behind the glare, his eyes blazed, and you felt a rush of excitement drop straight into the pit of your stomach.

“Mmm-hm,” you agreed, nodding your head as the sound was muffled by his thumb in your mouth.

“Well, if you’re good, then maybe I’ll give you what you’ve really been missing,” Crane teased. “But first, I think we need to put an end to this new ‘fixation’ of yours.”

He dragged his thumb out of your mouth, yanking it out with a forceful pop. Instantly, the head of his cock was at your lips.

“Open.”

He could have told you to choke on it, and you would have. Glady. But instead, Crane used one hand to guide just the tip of his head past your lips. The thumb that had been in your mouth was now pressed down into your chin, keeping your jaw open painfully wide as it would go, and your tongue sticking out as he let himself glide over it.

“I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t miss this, too,” Crane admitted. “You have such a pretty mouth.”

The taste of his salty, nearly-overwhelming musk made you want to close your eyes and savor it, just like you had with the candy earlier. But you fought to keep them open. Crane, looming over you, was always too good of a sight to take your eyes off of. He smiled down at you, a faint hint of wickedness playing over his face as he continued.

“Why don’t you pick up where you left off in class?”

You smiled. As much as you could under the current circumstances, anyway. Your little show had worked wonderfully; exactly how you’d wanted it to. Crane moved his hand from your chin to the back of your head, urging you on. You flattened your tongue against him and paused for a moment, letting your breath fan over his head before you drifted forward. 

Rather than taking him in your mouth, you let your tongue slide down the underside of his shaft, leaving behind a wet trail that brushed over the very tip of your nose as his cock twitched against you. You sucked at the sides gently, letting his smooth skin trail over your tongue as you kissed your way slowly back up from the base. Finally, wrapping your lips around him caused Crane to sigh deeply; the sound gradually turning into a contented hum as you sucked him into your mouth.

You brought your soft hand up to wrap around his shaft, only for Crane to swat it away.

“Did you already forget what I told you?” he growled, his mood suddenly shifting again. “Maybe you’re not just playing dumb. A few weeks off from school, and now you don’t even remember how to listen to your professor?”

You hurried to hold your hands securely behind your back, still looking up at Crane for approval.

“That’s better,” he said. 

Breaking his own rules, Crane brought a hand up to steady his length, using it to press himself a bit more forcefully onto your tongue.

“If you can’t take it all, just say so,” he told you, even as he continued to sink further into your mouth. You felt the breath catch in your throat as the sensation started to overwhelm you. “But, silly me - you can’t talk with your mouth full.”

Crane smiled wickedly as he pulled himself out of you, making you gasp with the sudden ability to breathe. You coughed, sputtering but still smiling as Crane pumped his fist up and down, coating your spit over his whole cock. His other hand came softly up to rest on your face.

“You really have forgotten a few things since last semester,” he said sympathetically. Or maybe that was just a hint of pity. “I think you’re going to have to start coming to my office hours again. Maybe even some private tutoring sessions, so I can really teach you how to do this properly.”

Still on your knees in front of him, you looked up and decided to make things even worse for yourself.

“Or maybe you could just fuck me over your desk again,” you suggested. “That might teach me a lesson.”

Crane stared back at you in disbelief. It was all you could do to stop from giggling as you wiggled your hips a little, desperate for whatever friction you could manage to get against the press of your own legs.

“You really are insistent on pushing me today,” he sighed.

For a moment, you worried that you had gone too far, and that he was really annoyed with you. That thought quickly vanished as Crane grabbed onto your arm and pulled you, yanking you up to your feet. In the next instant, you were slammed back against his office door, making a few of the framed diplomas on the wall next to it shudder. 

Your mouth opened, and Crane’s lips were suddenly and violently up against yours, the all-at-once soft-forceful feel of his tongue pushing into your mouth. His furious hand came down to your leggings, pushing into the fabric with his fingers held directly over your clit. He pressed, hard, not moving his hand at all but just holding it harshly against you.

“Mmm,” you sighed, grinding your hips down against him.

Crane stood up a little straighter to laugh - a short, barking sound that seemed to come from deep within his chest.

“Seems like you might have some other fixations, too,” he observed. “If this is what just a few weeks away from me does to you, I think we’re going to have to spend a lot of time together this semester.”

You cried out, softly; aware that you couldn’t be too loud for fear of the other professors with offices near Crane’s hearing you. Deep down, you wanted nothing more than to scream for him. But that would have to come later; maybe tonight, after the rest of the department had gone home. Crane would sometimes let you in with his spare key, then ravish you to your heart’s content in the privacy of the empty building. That would certainly stop you from teasing him, at least for a little while.

He pressed his forehead against yours, fingers still crushing into your clit but refusing to move.

“And I think you’re going to have to drop whatever class you have after this one,” he informed you. “Because I’m going to be asking you to stay late. Frequently.”

You moved your hips again, desperate for friction against Crane’s fingers. Not ready to let you have the satisfaction, he tore his hand away and then started pressing down on your shoulders, making you sink to your knees again.

“To start, let’s go over this one more time,” he suggested. “Hands on your legs, and don’t you dare touch yourself. Use your mouth for something more productive than eating in class. And maybe I’ll let you have what you want - if you can manage to listen.”

You leaned forward, eagerly wanting to taste him again. As you hollowed your cheeks, you pushed against him as deep as you could bear. Above you, Crane braced both of his elbows against the office door, and let out a strangled grunt.

This was going to be the start of an exciting semester…

[canmom]

100%ed neon white.

it took about 32 hours. lots to say about this game...

mechanics/design

it is fr an absolute tour de force of mechanics and level design. call it a platformer or an FPS (it's kinda both), it delivers a sense of speed and flow like few games I've played. since this is a pretty big inspiration for types of game I might want to make (such as the backburned THRUST//DOLL project) let me break it down a bit.

the learning curve is excellent. like many games, it gradually introduces new movement options with interesting ways to combine them, and levels themed around the new movement option. but the shortcut hints system adds an extra dimension. essentially, levels are scored on time, with bronze/silver/gold/ace medals; generally speaking the level will guide you along a route, and a clean run will get you the gold, which will unlock a hint to guide you to a shortcut which will let you reach the ace. the ace times are far from optimal, but do tend to require a bit of execution skill.

the result of this design is that it's hard to get stuck, but you are gradually given an introduction to speedrun routing over the course of the game. I was, inevitably, the type of player to insist on getting an ace on each level (and grabbing the gift) before moving on, but it is totally optional. that said, it's perfectly designed to retry levels until you nail it: restarting is near instant, the music doesn't get interrupted, and it's very easy to get into a flow state, gradually getting more familiar with the level and discovering new tricks.

along with this is the gift system, required to unlock additional dialogues and backstory scenes. every level has a gift box hidden somewhere, and while this isn't timed, it takes on more of a puzzle aspect as you have to figure out the right way to use the level's movement resources to platform to the gift.

the design of the levels has something in common with a Sonic level: a series of rapid dashes forwards interspersed with moments of floating in the air, when you need to spot the next thing to target. generally speaking it's built to facilitate flow: if you're on the main route, you typically get a movement card just at the moment you'll need it, mixing between sections of shooting and using the discard to keep you on your toes. (even so, it does kind of have a rhythm game aspect). the level design, colour palette etc. does a solid job of guiding your eye towards the next place to go.

enemies are stationary, and only barely a hazard - generally more of a tool. they're part of the level design, with many of the later levels designed around specific enemies which either kill other enemies or help you move. since most levels require you to kill all the demons 'when to kill which enemy and how' is a large part of the routing, but generally speaking you kill enemies nearly instantly if you're on pace.

I ended up playing most of the game on controller; there is a pretty helpful aim assist that makes this possible at all, though I switched to kb+m on the last few levels where rapid aiming became more important. in my previous post I said the controls are 'tight' - what I mean by that more precisely is essentially loads of air control. indeed, you have pretty much the same horizontal acceleration in the air and on the ground, making it very easy to steer into position to line up moves.

in general I think a huge aspect that makes this game work is that it's very predictable. there is essentially zero RNG beyond the chaos of physics; enemies have predictable attack patterns and always stand in the same place, so you can plan like 'I'll grab the shotgun and shoot that guy then dash through that guy which will give me the rifle and let me dash into that balloon' etc. etc. it is also very visually readable, making it pretty easy to make a split second judgement of where to go next while hurtling through the air.

this is exactly how speedrunners tend to approach games, minimising sources of randomness and exploiting predictable behaviours; in general the genius of this game is to take the jank out of speedrunning so that you don't have to master complicated tech or rely on RNG to get the experience of gradually refining your movement through a level.

but, it's not just 'easy mode speedrunning'. even just looking at friends' times, I can see there is a huge degree of room for improvement; the global leaderboard even more so. there are special secret red medals if you can beat the lead developers' times, of which I have so far managed to get only one (it took me by surprise on a late-game level), and even then I'm still like forty seconds behind a friend's score on that level. I bet there's some crazy tech in the fastest runs. maybe at some point I'll go back and see if I can tighten up my times on other levels, though I feel pretty satisfied as thing stand.

all in all, should I manage to return to solo game dev projects (or even if we ever make a speed game at work), there is a lot to learn from Neon White.

narrative/aesthetic

so mechanically, very positive. on the aesthetic aspect: it's a very slick game, particularly with machine girl's latter-day breakcore soundtrack (machine girl is the most trans-ass name for a band but is actually two guys, unless some eggs remain uncracked here...). the UI flows very nicely - not quite as flashy as something like Persona 5 but definitely in that direction. it's a game that wants you to know it's stylish; Paradise Killer comes to mind.

and visually it's very solid! the levels are varied and, while generally consisting of 'floating architecture over an ocean', appealingly lit and coloured. the enemies have distinctive silhouettes and there are some cool unusual designs, like the giant laser heads, as well as some classics, like mimic chests (not particularly stealthy).

but of course the main visual aspect is the character portraits, illustrated by Rebecca Ryan. which is to say: white clothes with monochrome accents according to each character's colour name (curiously the characters are known only by colours in both life and death), animesque illustration, and hannya masks. and a bunch of symbolic manga-like expressions (blush, anxiety gloom, etc.) these portraits (plus, here and there, CGs) show up in the visual novel-style story sections and generally speaking, they work - if in a very 'Americans paying tribute to anime' way.

the story... most of what people react to is the whole weebcore thing it's got going on, finding it either cringe or endearing depending on taste. I feel like there is little to say about this that has not already been said. apparently the intent was to fit the style of dubbed anime, and... yep, it does.

instead I want to talk about... the religion thing! because what's going on there!

well, it's not that complicated on one level. the smarmy 'believers' stormed heaven and killed god, setting up essentially an american mall in its place. but this 'heaven' is actually Sheol; God was managing it using two macguffins called the Books of Life and Death. your goal turns into restoring God to His rightful place. these Books come with a Star of David on the cover, with a bunch of smaller ones around it...

the game is also however full of crosses, which generally speaking seem to be the Believers' symbol/weapon, as seen here in the Third Temple area (you know... not clear why this is in the afterlife as opposed to Jerusalem)

so it's fairly easy to read: most of the old school 'Heaven as it should be' stuff is associated with Jewish symbolism, but the dang Christians ruined everything.

the plot, meanwhile, rather heavy-handedly focuses on a theme of the importance of forgiveness. broadly speaking the story is that our lovable MCs - dorky MC White, slightly dommy love interest Red, childish and violent Violet, and laid back bro Yellow - who were all treated as disposable tools by the group's abusive leader Green. who is basically Vicious.

right down to the hairstyle!

the characters in this game, while decently voice acted, are all terribly one note archetypes. the story flashbacks almost all concern the botched job where Green - with White's support - led the whole group to their deaths for the sake of a long held grudge.

later in the story, Green gets a new 'destroy this shoddy universe' motivation, but it is honestly pretty unconvincing. probably the best aspect of his character is the dark yaoibait interactions with his object of obsession White, but this isn't the kind of game to go all-in on that front (its attitude to sexuality is very much a 'tease but don't depict').

all this leads up to a final decision to basically decide whether Green goes to heaven or hell. if you send him upstairs, White also gets to move on (I picked this since the game was blatantly angling very hard towards this being the true end); if you don't, White apparently remains trapped in Sheol until the next cycle. the thrust of it is basically you need to forgive and move on instead of obsessing over those who have wronged you.

Green remains unrepentant throughout - if you Book of Life him, he's not exactly happy about this, going like 'what do you have to gain from this' lol. the point is pretty explicitly not 'your enemies deserve forgiveness' and more 'don't let them live rent free in your head' I guess.

as a theme this is... reasonable enough? probably best not to stay mad about shit if you can avoid it, though certainly easier said than done. but the presentation suffers a lot from, well, telling/showing issues. you know this is the theme because towards the end of the game, the characters talk about it, a lot. ironically for a game in which you get sermonised at by comedically smug preachers in between chapters, it feels very much like sitting in a sermon: abstract ideals that don't really connect because the characters are so one-dimensional.

(it turned out, reading the credits, that one of the co-writers of this game was Aevee Bee, of WKTD/HWBM. I have lingering beef with her because she joined in brigading a friend of mine out of the indie game sphere over spurious vague accusations back in the day - a peripheral player but still very much on the wrong side of it, and to my knowledge she never apologised or anything. so it all feels kind of 'bit rich coming from you' for her to go off about the importance of forgiveness and moving on. but, even aside from that, on a craft level the story's approach to its theme already felt heavy-handed and unconvincing.)

beyond that... I'm just plain not convinced that resurrecting God is all that. the game's presentation of God is basically distorted audio and blurry shapes for text, with the characters reacting as if they understand; the Angels are presented as cute cartoon cats with the explicit conceit that this is just White's brain comprehending the incomprehensible (though we do get a brief wheel of eyes appearance near the end). but the reason the plot has to play out as it does, with God essentially choosing White to put things right because of the remorse in his soul... well, let's just say I don't much like chosen-one narratives in general, and the Abrahamic set dressing does not help. it feels very arbitrary, but also a bit straightforward and comfy for all this vague guesturing towards being strange and alien.

all that said, as much as I'm ragging on it, I do appreciate that it tried for something. a distinctive identity which doesn't fit my taste is better than a game with no identity. the character interactions are generally pretty charmingly silly. White and Red do at least make a convincing couple. Sungwon Cho is there, playing a father-figure office worker angel in his characteristic style.

other observations

the game's team is very small, with one developer (Esposito) doing most of the programming and mechanics; besides that we have a couple of level designers, a couple of artists... However, it had the funding of Annapurna Interactive, who recently made the news for basically imploding, but have been a pretty big player in the indie sphere of late. and obvs Machine Girl are kinda huge in their scene, but really a lot of the names are also pretty familiar ones if you've been hanging around indie games for a while. it's sort of like... indie but by broadly established names. still, small team makes me wonder: how feasible is it to make a game along these lines, either as a solo project or with a similarly small team at work?

what is notable is that it seems to have gone through a pretty long period of iteration; apparently an earlier version of it used randomly drawn cards, before the current predictable speedrunning focus came in as a clearly better approach. which is interesting: it has such a laser focused design that I would have guessed that it would be a speedrunning game from the outset. definitely a testament to experimenting around different ideas, which is really the essence of game dev.

the main thing I feel like I should take away if I return to working on THRUST//DOLL - which had a very similar planned structure, of fast levels that focus on time and visual novel sections to tell the story - is that if you're moving at high speed, it's absolutely essential that the information that you need to make a decision is readable, and acting on it is not too finicky. I might have to rethink the bullet-hell aspect, and introduce similar 'snap to enemy' mechanics to the dash abilities in the later stages. something to think about another day, anyway, I'm not sure when I might be able to continue that project.

all in all, fun game, very addicting, I have so much work to catch up on now...

[lostbetweenvampiresandmusic]

Worlds apart

Telling his mate about his true nature didn't go as planned.

____________________

I felt terrified, standing in front of the sign. "Welcome to Santa Carla!" It said, in bright yellow and red letters. Pictures of the boardwalk, the rides, and the traintrack - things I hadn't seen in so long.

I wasn't terrified of going back to Santa Carla. In fact, I had been anxious to. I needed to get back, I needed to come home. I just didn't know if home wanted me back.

You see, about eight months ago, I met this boy. Well, he was a bit too old to be called a boy, but you get what I mean. He was this early twenty-something year old, with the prettiest eyes I'd ever seen. With stories, I could listen to for hours without getting bored. A sense of humour that matched mine. Looks that were to die for. I had met him the day I moved to Santa Carla, preparing for a new start after losing the last family I had left. Within two weeks, I had completely fallen for him, and lucky for me, he had also fallen for me.

David was everything. In such a short time, he became my safe haven, my home, my best friend and lover, and I couldn't imagine spending my life with anyone else. It scared me a little how quickly everything went, but he always reassured me that we wouldn't rush into things if I did not want to. Those six weeks were absolute heaven. I honestly believe that I have never been happier.

It was only when I spent the night at the cave, their home, that something shifted between David and me.

"I need to tell you something."

"Are you alright?"

"Sit down," he said, his voice more distant than I had ever heard before.

"David?"

"You know I love you, right?"

I nodded.

"I need to near you say it."

"I know. I love you too. David, what's going on?"

"I'm a vampire."

I was quiet for a moment before laughing. "Yeah, right. That's a good one."

"Love," he looked at me, "I am not lying."

And he wasn't. His eyes turned yellow, his face turned into a batlike shape, and his fangs seemed sharp enough to tear me in two.

"Y-you're not joking?"

"No."

"You're - you're a vampire? I- you kill people?"

"Yes."

"How long?"

"Almost eighty years."

My eyes grew wide as I felt panic wash over me. This wasn't real. This was just one big prank from the boys - there is no way that vampires were real. David wouldn't lie, not ever. He hated liars, so why-? I began to focus on my breathing, trying to calm myself down.

"Why didn't you kill me?"

"I couldn't. I could never hurt you."

"Why not?"

"You're my mate. We belong together."

And that's when I fully panicked. I got sick, I threw up, I whimpered and cried and avoided his touch out of fear. I didn't dare look at him, both scared that this was some sort of cruel joke and at the same time scared that this was real. That vampires were real.

"I- David, I- I love you, I really do, but this - how can this be real? I don't believe - if this is real, if you are speaking the truth..." I fell silent, not knowing what to say.

"I am not lying to you, love."

I nodded, tears in my eye. "I need time. I - I don't know if I can deal with this right now. Not without being unfair and mean and cold to you. Im scared, and I..." The first teardrop fell. I - I'm sorry."

David nodded, getting what I was hinting at. He reached for me, holding my hand before letting it go with a soft squeeze. After losing my family and not actively dealing with that, the news of my boyfriend being undead was the final drop in the already close to overflowing bucket.

"You need to take your time and space. Just-" he took a breath, "Please stay in touch."

I had nodded, and I had left him there. Six months ago now. In that time, I had taken my space, literally. I had been afraid still and had gone to Sweden - enjoying the days where the sun wouldn't set. It felt safe. Safe from vampires and monsters, and it allowed me to deal with things. Two weeks after I had left, I wrote my first letter. I had it delivered at the videostore, hoping that David would get it. And he did, because after a week I had a response from him.

In the letters I sent him, I told him where I was, what I had been up to. I asked questions about him being a vampire, and slowly but surely, I came to terms with it. Still, I felt rather confused. I got why he hadn't told me about it from the start, and at the same time, the lying also hurt. But, in the end, I dealt with my family passing, I dealt with my mixed feelings about him being a vampire, and I was ready to go back.

And now, six months later, I was ready to go back home. I realised I had been unfair to him, that I definitely hurt him - which was not what I had wanted, absolutely not, but back then, I had been certain that I needed the space - and I was terrified to see him again. What if he didn't want me anymore? Or what if he moved on? Honestly, if he had, I couldn't blame him. I had been the one to leave.

With a deep breath, I started the short walk to the boardwalk, spotting David when he left the videostore.

"Nothing?" I heard Dwayne ask.

"No. I shouldn't have let them go. I should have gone to bloody Sweden as soon as I knew they were there."

He stomped off to the beach, and I quickly followed. Seeing him now made me realise not only how much I had missed him but how much he had missed me as well. I walked after him, stopping quickly as David turned around angrily.

"Why are you following -" his expression softened, and disbelief flashed over his face. "You're here?"

"Hi," I whispered, not trusting my voice to let any louder noise escape.

David hugged me tightly, and I broke down - crying as I held onto him. "I'm sorry I left, I'm so sorry I was so stubborn. I missed you so much, I-" I gasped for breath, sinking down to the ground. David held me, and I saw some tears burning in his eyes.

"I thought you'd never come back. I was scared you wouldn't."

"I was scared you'd be angry," I said softly, looking at him. "I'm sorry for how I left."

"I'm sorry I scared you so bad."

"Can we start over?" I asked. "Just try to rebuild what we had? If - if you want me still, that is."

"Yes," David smiled, kissing my forehead softly. "Nice to meet you, love."

I smiled shyly. "I promise I won't ever run off to a place with no nighttime again."

"Next time, I'll just follow you. The burns will be a testament of my love."

I kissed him, softly and gently, smiling when he returned the kiss. Nothing could show him how much I regretted leaving, how much I had missed him - but being here felt right. Being with him felt right. I just hoped he felt the same.

[amemenojaku]

I saw umineko stage ep3 today!! it was amazing. the quality level is insane. I got goosebumps several times and it even managed to make me tear up... everyone's performances felt like they all know their characters so well now 🥺🙏 the lights, costumes and choreography were all perfect too

some thoughts (major umineko spoilers obviously):

young eva/evatrice's performance in particular was just. literally perfect? the way she delivered her lines, carried herself, her laugh resounding onstage and the little things she did when she wasn't the center of attention were all 100% in character. she was adorable during the ceremony where she becomes the new beatrice, introducing herself to the goats and giggling w the 7 sisters, and she was absolutely terrifying in rosa's and maria's death scene. also mad props to the costume designer(s) who did her sailor outfit that turns into the witch outfit almost instantly

everything beato's actress did had me go :] there's a lot of cute beato scenes in ep3 and she was adorable in the goofy, endearing way og beato is in the story while still being cool and fun when needed in the other scenes

and last but not least eva's actress did an amazing job too, especially during the emotional scenes of her character (when she solves the riddle, finds the gold, hideyoshi's & george's deaths). her lungs' strength is impressive lol. it's been 4 hours and I still clearly remember her screams

overall I loved the way so many of the actors and actresses would just do little things when they were on stage but not in the spotlight/not talking, like the chiesters whispering in each others bunny ears instead of their human ears/covering their bunny ears because of loud noises, or the 7 sisters just jumping around and messing w each other, maria taking her notebook out of her bag and reading it, etc. they weren't just standing doing nothing and it always felt very in character, too. there was always something new no matter which part of the stage you're looking at

rudolf's actor looked and acted like he came straight out of a yakuza movie? ik he was already like that in the previous episodes but for some reason I felt it even more this time. might be because of the fight against the sisters before he and kyrie die (which was probably my favorite action scene btw. really cool choreography). I'm not complaining though. made me like the character even more

speaking of rudolf. at some point during one of the scenes where the adults discuss beato's first letter, he just... started massaging hideyoshi's shoulders? he did that for at least a full minute before hideyoshi's actor nodded as thanks and he stopped. I have no idea if this was part of the script or if the guys just decided it on their own??

when gohda does his night check of the mansion right before his death he was actually walking in the aisles with his lantern before he got up on stage!! he got to tell a joke and do some fun stuff before being killed and never being relevant again. rip

beato asking battler to give her a new name now that evatrice inherited hers, ronove on the side of the stage writing a stupid nickname on some paper to show her only for her to get annoyed, rip the paper from his hands and stomp on it

I don't know if this was done on purpose or not, but when eva fires the shot that blinds jessica and jessica accuses her of being the culprit, pointing at some random direction since she can't see anymore, she actually pointed at shannon's corpse on the sofa behind her. it could very well just be a coincidence. but. yea

krauss drinking straight from the fucking bottle during the golden land party scene at the end and getting completely smashed

ange!! she was so cool and cute. she punched the goats. I can't wait to see her in ep4 😭

battler literally Just Standing There at the very end, when ange and beato start duking it out before the episode's over 🧍

the curtain call was super cute. everyone got together to pose for the cameras before they realised beato wasn't here so they had kinzo cry for her in the infamous kinzo way and she graced them (and us) with her presence :)

battler's actor: "so we'll need your support -and- your gold for episode 4 to happen"

cat nanjo be upon ye

[chasingmidnights]

Feels Like Dying, Part 2

Title: Feels Like Dying, Part 2 

Summary: Bucky realizes his feelings for you and has to tell you right away. 

Warnings: Angst; Bucky Barnes (he should definitely have his own warning label); Sweet, fluffy moment at the end; and I think that’s everything that you should look out for. I apologize if I missed anything but you are responsible for what you read. 

A/N: A little celebration piece for reaching 100 followers. Also, a lot of people were wanting a part two so I’m delivering! I hope you all enjoy this little short piece. Also, this isn’t beta read or anything of the sorts so any and all mistakes are my own. 

Wordcount: 887

Bucky was still standing in the kitchen, long after you had left. He was still in shock at your confession. How could he have had no idea that you had felt that way towards him. God, he was such an idiot. It wasn't until Leah came to check on him and gently placed a hand on his right arm that he had finally snapped out of his thoughts. He smiled gently at her as she looked up at him, concern written all over her. 

"Hey, is everything okay? You've been in here for quite a while." 

Bucky had to clear his throat to get his words out. "Um, yeah, of course." 

He watched his girlfriend as she raised an eyebrow up at him.  She clearly wasn't buying it but she nodded her head as she spoke up. "Well, I've got to get going. Apparently one of my coworkers called in and no one else can cover their shift. Are you sure you're okay?" 

‘Perfect,’ Bucky thought to himself, 'Now I can find Mouse and explain myself. I hope it's not too late.' 

"Yeah, everything's fine. Have a good night at work." Bucky did his best to reassure Leah.

Before Leah left, she pressed a kiss to his cheek and he returned it with a tight lipped smile. Once she was gone, he bolted out of the kitchen and went straight to your room. When he found it empty, disappointment washed over him before he thought of another place you might be. You had several places throughout the compound that you liked to go to when you felt overwhelmed or just needed to escape. He even knew the ones outside of the building and in the city. He would check every place he could think of to find you. Place after place he came up empty handed and was starting to feel defeated. Like he had already lost you and he couldn't. He shook the thoughts from his head as he checked another place, only to find it empty. He was on his way to another secret hidden spot of yours when he bumped into Steve and Sam.

"Hey Buck, slow down. Where's the fire?" Sam chuckled. 

Bucky let out an exasperated sigh, he didn't have time for Sam's antics. So he just stared at him for a moment before he spoke up. "Look, have either of you seen Mouse?" 

He watched as they both took too long to think, causing Bucky to start tapping his foot. 

"Can't say that I have Buck. Is everything alright?" Steve asked in return. 

Before Sam could say anything, Bucky cut him off. "I just have to find her before it's too late." 

Bucky then took off running down the hall. Sam and Steve looked at each other with worried expressions on their faces before they took off after Bucky. They helped him search and just as Bucky turned down another hallway, he halted, stopping in his tracks. The action caused Sam and Steve to bump into him. There you were, walking down the hallway with Tony Stark. The word "transfer" caught Bucky's ears and it stung him to the core. That's when it dawned on him, his feelings for you. If you left, sure he would survive without you but that's all it would be, surviving. You actually make him want to live and be a better man more than ever. He couldn't lose you or have you leaving, he needed you around. The further you walked down the hallway, the more you slipped out of his grasp. So, he called out to you.  

"Mouse!"

You and Tony turned around just in time to see Bucky jogging up to you, a smile curled up onto his face. 

You looked him up and down as he panted. "Why are you panting?" 

"Because I've been looking all over this god forsaken compound for you." Bucky answered, still trying to catch his breath. "You can't leave." 

"Why not?" You crossed your arms over your chest as your face became serious. 

"Because, I love you." 

Before you could react, Bucky had his hands on either side of your face and he slotted his lips against your. You couldn't help but melt into the kiss as you wrapped your arms around him. When the two of you finally pulled apart, the other three people started whistling and making all sorts of noises of approval. 

"About damn time!" Tony exclaimed, a cheesy grin plastered onto his face. 

You couldn't help but giggle as you turned your attention back to Bucky. "I love you too Buck."

A big, toothy grin formed on Bucky's face as you spoke those words to him. Sure, you had said them before but now they had a whole new meaning. He pulled you closer to him and gave you another kiss and kissed you as if his life depended on it. When he pulled away to catch his breath, he reached a hand up to your cheek and began to gently caress the smooth skin. He pressed his forehead against yours, he couldn’t believe this was actually happening. Sure, there were some things that they needed to figure out but all of that could be done later. To him, this felt right and he wanted the moment to last as long as possible.

[dairyminki]

woaahh congrats on 300 followers hun!! could I request jongho x reader fluff, maybe where he tells mc he loves her for the first time? that'd be lovely <33

✨️part of my 300 milestone event 🪄

title: i love hue

pairing: choi jongho x fem!reader genre: fluff, established relationship

warning/s: none

wc: 1.1k

a/n: tysm anne!! hopefully, i was able to deliver your request well ahhh <33

* reblogs and feedbacks are much appreciated!

—

It was a lovely Saturday for Jongho—he's sitting on a wooden stool, an easel stands in front of him holding the canvas he's currently painting on with a picture of—wait what is he exactly painting?

He's quite not sure, to be honest, because as he let his dominant hand gently drag the paintbrush across the canvas, he can't stop himself from sneaking a few glances at you every chance he gets.

By chance, he means, everytime you're not looking in his direction, but rather, you're smiling down and talking to the young students who enrolled in your weekend art class.

Jongho looks back at his own painting, tries to scrutinize it and then look back at the paintings done by the others, in an attempt to compare them. He then chews his lip, frowning, when he realizes that his painting sucks and that the kids around him are doing a much better job at painting fruits, houses, and stuff.

One kid was even painting a unicorn with a carrot horn. Also, Jongho thinks he just saw someone painting a yellow sun with eyes, nose, and lips.

Jongho didn't know painting pictures would be this frustrating, especially for an adult like him. Has he lost the power of creativity or imagination already? Because the beach he imagined is way off better looking in his head than on the canvas in front of him.

The more he looks at the blue paint with the thick shaky strokes he made in the center the more it mocks him in the face because it certainly isn't pleasing to the eye, instead, it looks like someone spilt milk in the middle of the ocean.

Jongho was about to throw the brush when he hears laughter behind him.

"Well, it certainly looks like you're having fun." He hears you say, and when he looks back, it was like he was staring at the sun itself.

How could someone look so radiant and resemble a goddess even when they're covered mostly in paint splatters?

"I didn't notice you there…" Jongho says, one of his hands rubbing at his nape, a shy smile decorating his lips.

"Maybe because you were so busy trying to fight your painting. If it helps, I think it looks pretty," You say, and Jongho knows that you meant it, though he can't help but scoff.

"Now, if I didn't know you all too well, I'd say you're just faking nice."

"It's a good thing you know me then." You smile at him, and Jongho senses you were about to say something else, but then one student was calling out to you for help.

Jongho only nods in understanding. Smiling, he says, "Go. Your student needs you, teacher Y/N."

"I'll be back later," You say, patting him on the shoulder before you left to attend to your student.

As soon as you left, Jongho doesn't even dare on going back to painting, he just simply puts the brush down and ends up looking at you who's now crouching to teach the kid how to paint Spiderman.

And then something happens, and it came to him like an eye opener.

"I love you, Miss Y/N," The kid exclaims, kissing your cheek after.

Jongho thought he'd be jealous, but it turns out that a kid stealing a kiss from you is the least of his worries. Because at that moment, all he could see was how your face lit up in joy, making you more radiant looking than just moments ago.

Before Jongho knew it, every single kid in the room was shouting the exact three words to you. His heart beats loudly at the sight of you, who looked like you were at your happiest.

And then Jongho comes to realize that he still hasn't said those words to you ever since you two ventured into a relationship. Well, he does remember you both coming to an agreement to take things slow. However, right now, he can't help but wonder when will he finally get the courage to say it to you because deep in his heart, he knows he does love you, more than anything.

—

"Thank you."

Jongho hears you say softly, so soft that he had to ask you to say it again.

"It's no big deal, actually. It was fun seeing you in your element," He says, squeezing your hand that was clinging to his left arm. The both of you were on your way back to your apartment, and you figured that walking would be a better option since it is a lovely day after all.

"You have no idea how confident you made me back there, really. I mean, you already know I'm not that good with kids right?"

Jongho feigns a gasp, "Really? Because it seemed to me like you were doing a pretty good job handling and teaching them, love," He says and stops walking to face you. "You did a great job today, Y/N. I mean it." Jongho smiles and gives you a few pats on the head.

And then you start to cry.

"I- why are you crying? I didn't even get to say I love you yet!" Jongho says in a panic that he doesn't even realize what he just blurted out in the first few seconds. But you did.

You heard it loud and clear.

"S-Say that again?" You said with a sniff.

"Say what?" Jongho chuckles awkwardly. "I didn't say anything."

When he attempts to look and walk away, you say, "Say it or I'll charge you with that art class earlier."

Hey that's not fair? Jongho thinks. You were the one who offered him to attend for free because you badly needed his support in the first place.

"You'll never let me live this down won't you, unless I say it again?"

"Yes."

"Fine." Jongho replies, almost sulkily, meanwhile, you're trying your best to suppress a smile.

"I've been really meaning to say this to you, but I didn't know when would be the perfect timing. And, uh, earlier, when that kid said it to you—"

While Jongho's explaining, your giggles reach his ears, and he can't help but eventually smile too, his nerves, starting to loosen up.

"I love you, Y/N, for quite a long time now," Jongho says, taking your hands in his. His eyes never left yours, patiently waiting for your reaction—if it will be just like when those kids said it you earlier or—oh.

You're crying, again.

"At this point, people will start to think like I'm being mean to you," Jongho chuckles, all the while he wipes your tears.

"Well, you are being mean to my heart, Choi Jongho. And for the record? I love you too."

[wasabidottie]

please pt2 of your drunk 😩

-♊️

Giggling and kicking my feet, this is my first ask and i'm so excited to deliver this to u babes &lt;3

"You're Drunk" (Jschlatt) part two

part one part three

In the days that followed his drunken plea on your doorstep, Schlatt couldn't shake the gnawing guilt that had settled within him. He knew that his actions were far from ideal, but he couldn't let your relationship fade away without at least trying to make amends.

It wasn't easy for him to give you space, to respect your boundaries as he battled his own inner turmoil. But he knew that he had to try, that he had to give you the time you needed to process everything. He wanted to respect your wishes, even if it meant not hearing your voice for a while.

But the days turned into a seemingly endless stretch of silence, and Schlatt couldn't bear it any longer. He reached out to you, his message filled with heartfelt words of apology and sincerity. He admitted that he had been wrong, that he had been foolish, but he couldn't deny the truth in the words he had spoken that night.

"I meant every word," he said in his message, "and I can't let you go without at least trying to make it right. I hope we can have another shot at this."

Your response was slow in coming, and Schlatt couldn't help but feel the weight of his actions bearing down on him. The uncertainty and the fear of losing you had become a constant presence in his thoughts.

Finally, a message from you appeared on his screen, and his heart leaped. You agreed to meet up, to talk things through. A few days later, Schlatt found himself standing before your house, a bouquet of flowers in his hand. They were your favorite, he remembered, but he had too eagerly bought them a while ago, and they were a bit wilted.

He rang the doorbell, feeling a knot of anticipation and nervousness in his stomach. The door opened, and there you stood, looking at him with a mixture of surprise and curiosity.

Schlatt held out the flowers with a sheepish smile. "I thought these might brighten up the room a bit."

You took the flowers, a soft smile tugging at your lips. "They're my favorite," you admitted.

Schlatt nodded, a mixture of relief and anxiety in his expression. "I know."

As you let him into your home, the tension in the air was palpable. The weight of unspoken words hung between you, but there was also a sense of hope, a longing for the connection you had once shared.

You settled on the couch, and Schlatt couldn't help but fidget, the anxiety in his chest almost unbearable. The bouquet of slightly wilted flowers resting on the coffee table between you. The air was charged with unspoken tension, and for a moment, it felt like you were strangers in each other's presence.

"I'm sorry," Schlatt finally broke the silence, his voice tinged with regret. He turned to face you, his eyes earnest and sincere. "I messed up, [Y/N], in so many ways. I should have been there for you, but I let work and my own selfishness take priority. I never should have let it get to the point where we felt so distant."

You studied him, his words resonating with the pain that had lingered since your breakup. "Schlatt, it wasn't just about the distance. It was about the way we treated each other, the way we drifted apart. It was about not feeling like we were a team anymore."

He nodded, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. "You're right. It wasn't just about the distance. I was so focused on my own problems and ambitions that I lost sight of what really mattered. I let you down, and I'm so sorry."

You couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions. Schlatt's apology was heartfelt, and you could see the sincerity in his eyes. It was the man you had fallen in love with, the man who had been buried beneath the weight of his own priorities.

"Schlatt," you began, your voice soft, "I appreciate your apology, and I can see that you're being genuine. But it's not just about saying sorry. It's about showing me that things can be different, that we can rebuild what we had."

He nodded, a glimmer of determination in his eyes. "I'm willing to do whatever it takes, [Y/N. I want to make it right, to make us work again. I'm ready to change, to be a better partner for you."

The sincerity in his words was unmistakable, and you couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope. You had missed the connection you had shared with Schlatt, the laughter, the shared dreams, and the intimate moments. It was clear that he missed it too, and was willing to put in the effort to rebuild it.

Over the course of the conversation, you delved into the complexities of your past relationship. You both acknowledged the mistakes you had made, the ways you had hurt each other, and the miscommunications that had contributed to your growing distance.

It wasn't an easy conversation, and at times, the wounds were raw. But the willingness to confront the past and the hope for a better future were powerful motivators.

As the hours passed, the tension slowly dissipated, replaced by a sense of understanding and a shared desire to rebuild what had been lost. The wounds of the past would take time to heal, but the possibility of a fresh start hung in the air, a delicate promise of what could be.

Schlatt knew that he couldn't fix everything with one conversation or one bouquet of flowers, but he was determined to show you, through his actions, that he was committed to making it right.

The night continued, filled with laughter, shared memories, and the growing sense that perhaps, you could find your way back to each other. The embers of your love had been rekindled, and while the road ahead was uncertain, it was a path you were both willing to walk, hand in hand, in the hope of building a stronger and more loving future together.

[theteasetwrites]

The Beginning Is the End Is the Beginning

Chapter 97: Under the Gun

❧ Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader ❧ Era: Season 11 ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: language, violence, lots of guns, scary situation, injury, basic TWD stuff tbh ❧ Word Count: 5.2k

❧ In This Chapter: It will take some effort to convince Daryl that you're capable of helping at the Commonwealth. Of course, who is he to stand in your way? A deadly trap ensnares you all, and confronting Governor Milton is going to be more challenging than you'd anticipated. Blood will be shed.

❧ A/N: So um ok Tumblr was being weird last night, so when I tried to schedule Chapter 96 to come out at midnight PST, it actually came out three hours earlier than that, so technically THIS is the first post of 2023! Cool! Anywho, um yes I know reader is being stupid look I need her to be stupid ok? Sometimes she can be stupid, as a treat. It would be boring if she was always perfect and made the right decisions. Also Daryl gets to be stupid all the time in the show let her have this. Oh and stream Under the Gun by Sisters of Mercy because a) it's a banger and b) it inspired the vibe of this chapter and some of the lines (but I couldn't fit some of my favorite lines like "you can set the controls for the heart or the knees and the meek will inherit what they damn well please" that line is 🤌🏻)

The crate you carried was heavy, straining your aching back, but you’d risen early that morning to help load up the bus. The plan was to bring as many people as possible back to the Commonwealth, with emphasis on finding the missing children, Eugene and Yumiko, and taking down Pamela, whatever that may entail.

You had a plan of your own. Well, not so much a plan, but a conviction. You hadn’t spoken to Daryl yet this morning, and you knew he’d object, but you were headstrong about one thing: you were going with them.

Perhaps you weren’t in the best physical state to be going, having delivered a baby exactly a week ago. Still, you’d put together an argument in the incredibly likely case that Daryl would refuse to let you come. It didn’t matter what he wanted, though. You wanted to see Pamela get taken down. You wanted to see everything the Miltons and the Commonwealth stood for crumble. You wanted to be a part of it. 

Was it stupid? Yes. You were aware.

“Here’s the last of the supplies,” you said, handing the crate to Maggie. She stood at the back of the bus, loading it up. “There’s plenty of ammo, mostly M855’s, or whatever those big guns use.” Your knowledge of guns was reluctant and minimal, and you much preferred your axe, which you’d been so lucky to find tucked away in a crate in one of the houses, along with Robin’s spear and Daryl’s bow. For what you were about to do, though, you’d need guns. 

“Thanks,” she huffed, checking the crate before sliding it in. “You talk to Daryl yet?”

Maggie knew, of course, but Daryl didn’t. He assumed you’d be staying to watch Robin and Wes, which, admittedly, sounded like a much better idea than what you had in mind, but there was such a strong urge to see justice restored, to be a part of it, to help make history.

“No,” you said. You turned as you dusted off your jeans, eying Daryl, who sat upon the deck of the town hall. In his arms was baby Westley, bundled up in his blue blanket, with his bear hat poking out. Robin and RJ sat beside him, each peering over his shoulders to look at the baby boy. “I know he’ll be upset.”

“It’s your choice,” she said. “You’re a grown woman. He can’t tell you what to do, you know.”

“I know, it’s just… I hate arguing with him about this kind of stuff. And if I do go, I don’t want him to be worrying about me the whole time, getting distracted.”

“He’ll live with it.”

You made your way to the town hall, where others had also gathered as they prepared to board the bus. Daryl had handed Wes to Robin, who was eager to hold him. 

Daryl nodded his head to you, his face a portrait of confusion. “You should be in bed,” he said. “Ain’t you tired?”

“Aren’t you?”

He hadn’t slept in days, of course he was tired. More tired than you, and you’d just given birth. Everyone was tired, but the sooner you got to the Commonwealth, the better.

Chewing his bottom lip, he eyed you suspiciously. “You ain’t goin’,” he said. 

Your eyes widened as you scoffed. “Yes, I am. I’m not missing this.”

He moved further from the earshot of others, gently but firmly holding your arm to take you with him. “I need you here.”

“That’s ridiculous,” you said, even though you knew it really was quite reasonable. Still, this is what you wanted. “I want to be part of this. I mean, how else am I supposed to write down what happened in my journal?”

“Woman, you just had a damn baby.” His voice raised, becoming more impassioned. You could see in his eyes that he was scared, that even the idea of something happening to you because your body was weaker than usual made his eyes go cloudy. “How in the hell are you gonna be able to fight?”

He had a point, and you knew that, but your need to see this through eclipsed whatever lingering pain and weakness you felt. Your body was healing well, you were healthy. Daryl had spent nine months making sure you were able to have a successful birth, and you did. It wasn’t traumatic, you were lucky. Twice. Your luck hadn’t run out, either. You were sure of it. 

“I can fight if I need to,” you said. “I will fight.” 

There were few things in your relationship with Daryl that caused contention. Rare were your fights, your lovers’ quarrels. Daryl had a temper that came out at unexpected times, but he never hurt you, or said anything that shattered your heart beyond repair. The vast majority of the few heated arguments you’d had over the years followed this pattern—Daryl urging you to stay home, safe and sound, and you refusing. 

So far, every one of these arguments ended the same: Daryl giving into you. 

“I’ve almost lost you too many damn times, (Y/N),” he said. “I ain’t almost losin’ you again, or worse.”

You knew his overprotectiveness came from a place of love, but it could be suffocating. Daryl clinged to you like you were a teddy bear, but that was his way. He was always so loyal, and his love was deep and at times overwhelming. Sometimes, you wondered if he really didn’t want you to leave, or if he was just so used to protesting that it became second nature. 

In any case, you were, as Maggie had reminded you, a grown woman. Daryl could argue till he was blue in the face, but the final say was yours. 

“I’ve almost lost you so many times, too,” you said. “That’s just how it goes. I can do it. I feel fine… I’m going with you.” 

With a deep huff, he squinted his eyes, the morning sun having begun to pierce them. Yours, however, were noticeably wide, like two big doe’s eyes. It was subtle, of course, but you knew what you were doing. It might’ve just been instinct at this point. You could’ve not cared enough to get Daryl’s approval. You could’ve just gotten on that bus with him and not asked at all for his permission, but you didn’t want to fight. You wanted Daryl to be on board with your decision, and if anything got Daryl to cave, it was your wide, pleading eyes. 

“You’re gonna be the death a’me one day, woman,” he huffed. “All right, but you gotta promise to stay right by me. No splittin’ up, and don’t strain yourself too much, just for my peace of mind, all right?”

As much as you were reluctant to admit it, you did love when Daryl appeased you, when he showed his soft side by giving into you. He really did love you, and that was always so apparent to you. You’d never known anyone to love you as much as he did. 

“Thank you, honey,” you said, wrapping your arms underneath his to hold his shoulder blades as you hugged him. He didn’t stiffen at all anymore, not even in public. He just held you back, his hand tangling in the hand on the back of your head. “I promise I won’t do anything reckless.”

He scoffed, causing you to pull away and look at him in mock offense. “What?” you asked. “You don’t believe me?”

“Not after what I saw last night,” he said. “When ya went lookin’ for the kids. Never seen ya so… scary.”

“I scared you?”

“No, jus’... Saw somethin’ crazy in your eyes.” He thought back to that moment you pushed him away from the door, and he chuckled a little to himself. “Maybe I was a little bit scared of you.”

You lowered your head as you felt the blush begin to bloom in your cheeks, but his hands caressed your jawline to lift your head back up. 

“Ain’t a bad thing,” he said. “I kinda liked it… I love my crazy woman.”

You let out a loud snort, and he broke into a wide grin, always amused by your little mannerisms. “Stop it,” you laughed. “I was worried about the kids.”

“I know, I was, too. Just ain’t ever seen ya like that. You’re always so damn sweet.”

“Well, it’s good to know I can still surprise you.” You leaned in to peck his lips, but he didn’t let you pull away, instead pulling you closer to deepen your kiss just a little. 

There wasn’t much more time to stand around, though. When the bus was loaded, it was time to head for the Commonwealth. 

You said your goodbyes to Robin and Westley, leaving them and the Grimes children in the care of Nabila. 

The bus took you to the same train you’d hijacked just the other day. It was rather convenient that one of the Commonwealth prisoners was himself a train conductor before being taken into custody. 

Of course, you brought along your journal. Well, the thirteenth or fourteenth volume. You’d gone through so many journals over the years, keeping track of both personal events and the ones that you considered history. The Commonwealth was at least six hours away by train, going at full speed. You’d have plenty of time to catch your future readers up to speed. 

Date: April 17, 2021

Time: 1:45 PM

We set out at 8 AM, now we’re nearing the place where the border between West Virginia and Ohio once was. The primary objective of this mission is to return the Commonwealth citizens who were unlawfully imprisoned and sent to the labor camp at Alexandria back home. At that point, it should become clear that Governor Pamela Milton is a corrupt tyrant who must be removed from power. 

I must be honest in saying that I don’t know what will happen to Milton, but I don’t think killing her is the best solution. Years ago, I thought Negan should’ve been killed after the Savior War, and I still stand by that, but Milton isn’t like Negan. She is weak on her own, posing little threat. What’s dangerous is her power, her greed, and those things are fueled by her influence over other people. Without that influence, she’s weak. We’ve already gathered support from the Commonwealth Army at Alexandria, and I am willing to bet that once the citizens of Commonwealth realize where their missing loved ones have been taken, they will turn on Milton, too, and there’s strength in numbers. 

I am unsure of the future for the Commonwealth, but whatever it is, it must be better than how it is now. 

You paused for a moment, no longer able to continue your mostly factual account. Instead, you turned the page to reveal a fresh one. You’d never been too good at separating your personal entries from your historical ones, but in a way, you found it comforting. Perhaps one day someone would read about your life, too.

It’s been a week now since Aaron, Lydia, Elijah, and Jerry left the Commonwealth with the hopes of bringing supplies back to Alexandria. They weren’t there yesterday, when we got there. I am starting to worry. Daryl tried to tell me that it would take much longer for them to get to Alexandria, considering they took a wagon. I know he’s right, he’s always right, and so damn rational sometimes. I almost like it better when he’s irrational, but he keeps me grounded, which is good. My hope is that perhaps they will reach Alexandria while we’re away, and maybe we’ll see them there when we get back. 

I know I shouldn’t be here. I should be home, with Robin and Westley. The thing is, I want to be here. I want to be part of this. I haven’t told Daryl, because I know he’d worry, but I do feel tired, and still a bit weak from the birth. I know I will read this back someday and think, “God, you’re such an idiot,” and I (or you) would be right. 

I’m an idiot, but at least I’ll get to see Pamela taken down. At least there will be reckoning for the lives she destroyed. That’s why it matters to me. 

Daryl told me something funny yesterday. He told me he’d take me on a “vacation” once all this is over. I don’t know where he’s getting that from. We can’t just up and leave the kids, but I have to admit, there is something tempting about the idea. It would be really nice, just the two of us for maybe a week or two. I’ve got no idea where we’d go. Daryl said we could just hop on his bike and drive somewhere. I’d like to go to France, or Italy. I know it’s impossible, but just for the record, it’d be nice to see the Eiffel Tower and all that. Well, if it’s still there and hasn’t fallen apart or anything. I wonder if French walkers are different from American ones. Could that be possible? Perhaps their groans have an accent. I’d like to find out someday, though I know I never will. 

By the time the train arrived at the nearest Commonwealth depot, Princess had rigged a radio signal to contact Mercer. She informed you all of the news—Eugene’s trial deemed him guilty, but Mercer and the other Commonwealth soldiers that followed him were keeping him in hiding, safe from Milton’s forces. 

Mercer promised to meet Princess and your group at the gate, letting you all in. You had an in. The only problem was, here you sat just outside the gates, waiting. You counted thirty minutes on your watch. 

Negan voiced your own concerns: “Hey, we are sittin’ ducks,” he said. “He ain’t comin’ and we can’t wait.”

As much as you hated to agree with Negan, you did. Silently, but you did. 

Itching to get inside, you peered through the bush that blocked view of your group from the guards. There were only four, that should’ve been easy to get through, you figured. But if they shot, you knew their bullets were tracked. It would draw attention to any of the other Commonwealth soldiers that weren’t on your side.

“Guys, please,” replied Princess. “Mercer’s gonna show up.”

Daryl kept an eye on you from the side, always keeping you in his sight, as he said he would. “We’re runnin’ out of time,” he said.

“I’m gonna head around,” said Carol. “Try to find another way to slip in.”

“How many are there, (Y/N)?” Maggie asked.

You squinted through the bush, trying to cover any blind spots in case you missed any. “Four.” You made the signal to Connie—four soldiers. 

“We could take ‘em,” said Maggie. 

You turned back to keep an eye on the guards’ movements. Their guns were drawn, but they were low. They were, unfortunately, doing their job. With what you knew from Daryl about the Commonwealth Army, a lot of them didn’t do their jobs. You really wished these guards were more negligent, solely for your group’s benefit.

They were so attentive, in fact, that they must’ve heard someone’s whispers, or perhaps a movement. They began to approach the bush.

“Those guards go missing,” said Rosita, “clock’s ticking on us.”

“Hey,” you said, still in a whisper, but noticeably a lot more urgently. 

“Hold on a minute,” said the foremost guard. “Did you hear that?”

The others held still, quiet. If your heart was beating any faster, you swore it might’ve become audible. 

You kept your hand on your axe, just in case. There was a perfect space between the armor plates, just at the base of the neck. You could drive the tip of your axe through it quite quickly, without having to draw your gun. A silent kill was always better. 

Mentally, you prepared yourself to strike, to take a man’s life, something you had always been uneasy with, but the voice that came from one of the guard’s radios saved you the trouble of the inevitable moral dilemma. 

“Sector D, gather all available units,” the grainy voice said, “and report to the east gate immediately. Mercer needs bodies to deal with an incoming swarm.”

A herd was the last thing on Earth you needed, but at this moment, it was, dare you say, incredibly convenient. At the very least, the Commonwealth’s walls were well-fortified, and their army was equipped to deal with the possibility of a herd getting close. There was no way it would get inside.

The guard spoke into his radio, “Sir, does that include tunnel H?”

“Yes,” the now slightly exasperated voice responded. “That includes tunnel H.”

“So are we supposed to just… abandon our post?”

Please. 

“Goddamnit, soldier, it’s locked!” the voice replied harshly now. “We’ve got it covered on this end. Stop wasting time, move!”

Oh, God, you thought. That sounds serious. You exchanged a look with Daryl, but he didn’t look worried. He nodded to you, his face a resolute sculpture of heroism. Well, to you, anyway. He made you strong with just one look. You’d be able to last a while longer before you’d need that reassurance again.

“All right, let’s move!” said the soldier. “You heard it, move!”

Your eyes diligently followed the four guards’ moves, and when they boarded a jeep, starting the engine, you breathed a sigh of relief. The vehicle drove away, out of your line of vision, and you turned to face the rest of the group, nodding as you said: “I think we’re good.”

“You sure?” asked Daryl. 

You turned back to confirm. “Yes,” you said firmly. “We need to move now.”

Tunnel H was the destination. Daryl knew it ran underneath the city, and it would lead you to the center. If the radio communication was anything to go by, the tunnel wasn’t guarded. Luck was on your side.

Maggie led the way in, the others following. Daryl stood guard, vigilantly looking out for any hostiles. You kept your word, staying with him, but when you began to make your way into the dark corridor, he pulled you aside, his hand holding yours.

“Hey,” he said quietly. “Always together, right?”

“Always,” you agreed.

Tunnel H was more like a sewer, with dripping pipes and soaked floors and a foul stench permeating in the air. Quite literally, you were seeing the dark, festering underbelly of the Commonwealth. 

Guns drawn, you traveled deeper, until you reached a ladder attached to the wall of the tunnel, with the letter 2 printed on it. According to the plan, that was the closest entrance to Union Station, where Pamela was more than likely to be.

Indeed, it took you there.

You came out from the underground in a maintenance room, then filed slowly, cautiously, one by one into the station. 

The Commonwealth citizens moved first, eager to make their stand against Milton. They were led by Tyler Davis, the young man who’d been the first to stand against Pamela. He’d been sent to Alexandria not long after Daryl’s encounter with him at the Halloween Masquerade.

You came through next, but it was quiet, empty. It didn’t feel right, but Tyler and other Commonwealth citizens were already in the center of the station, above which were balconies that wrapped around the perimeter, looking down to the first floor. 

“Somethin’ ain’t right,” Daryl said behind you. You could feel it, too, so you kept your gun drawn. 

Daryl studied his surroundings, and his suspicions were confirmed. Padlocked chains were laced around the handles of the doors that led to the outside. Your eyes followed his, and a sinkhole formed in your stomach.

“Come on guys,” Tyler called out to your group. “We’re almost there.”

Daryl only had a moment to register the trap, but it was too late. “Get down!” he bellowed, instinctively grabbing your wrist and pulling you with him as he scrambled into one of the alcoves of the corridor. 

All the while, a rain of gunshots came from the second floor balconies above the station. You caught a glimpse of Tyler and some of the others meeting their fate, pulverized by bullets. The men shooting in the balconies weren’t armored. They were in plain clothes, not unlike the men who jumped and kidnapped you. You figured they must’ve been agents for Pamela, loyal to her and only her, not the people of the Commonwealth.

The group became split several ways, with some taking cover underneath the stairs, others scrambling underneath benches and archways. Across the corridor from you and Daryl was Maggie, tucked away in the opposite alcove. You took stock of where the others went, making mental notes to not lose anybody in the chaos. 

In the span of just thirty seconds, the once quiet, empty station became a battlefield, with the enemy firing rounds of .50 caliber bullets in merciless succession. Glass shattered, screams erupted from those who had been hit, or were still clinging to life. You swore you even heard the men shooting at you cheering for each other, encouraging one another to “take them out.”

In times like these, whatever reservations you had for firing back were squandered. They were trying to kill your people, and doing it with glee. Your position wasn’t ideal for shooting back, but the guards were mobile, with little coverage on the balcony. They had the advantage of being above you, but you had the cover. 

You shot at one man, attempting to make his way down the stairs. Another shot went through a man’s torso, while Daryl’s went through a head. His aim was always better.

You aimed to shoot another one of Milton’s cronies, but the trigger was stuck, and you remembered now one of the reasons you hated guns so much. “Shit,” you murmured, then raised your voice to say, “My gun’s jammed!”

Happiness is a loaded weapon.

Daryl only pushed you back behind him, then shot again. “I got it!”

You felt powerless now. All you had was your axe and a few knives, and you wished that, somewhere along the way, you’d learned to use a bow. Daryl had offered, but you found it somehow cliche that you’d learn the same weapon as your husband. Go figure.

In the meantime, you’d keep a sharp eye out behind Daryl, looking out for any windows, but there were none. At least, not from this angle. It was absolute bedlam, a circus of blood and bullets. Time seemed to move so fast—explosive bolts, ten thousand volts, a million miles an hour. 

You weren’t just under the gun, you were under at least twenty of them, cold, silver pipes spitting hot molten metal, all for an idiot, chosen to hold the highest card, wielding a power much too immense for any living human being to have.

That’s when you saw her, the governor herself. Eyes wide, you were transfixed on her, her shocked face. How could she have any shock? She didn’t deserve to feel such a thing. She’d created her own reality, built on the backs of people who had been made to believe that this was how things were, that things were worse outside the walls.

She made the ultimate mistake when she tried to take your home away. She should’ve known better, after what she knew about your people. She underestimated Alexandria, and that would be her fatal mistake. 

When you thought of all the damage she caused, the lives she’d ruined, your hatred rose like bile in the back of your throat. You could taste it on your tongue when she kneeled down beside the guard Daryl had just shot, and picked up his rifle. 

Your lips agape in confusion, you exchanged a look with Maggie across the corridor. She looked for a moment, taking a deep breath before stepping out from the alcove, her body almost fully unprotected as she shot up at the balcony. 

Volleying between Pamela and Maggie, you noticed that the governor had her sights on her, your friend. Your best friend. She’d always been your best friend, and you weren’t about to lose her. You’d lost too many friends. 

Your inner voice was muted, everything was, except the beating of your heart. Something, maybe pure stupidity, or maybe heroism, or something in between, propelled your body forward, sliding across the floor, into the line of fire. Your gun now dropped, you pushed Maggie back behind the wall, with the intention to get yourself there, too.

Intentions were always nice, in theory. 

Your ears popped open when one single gunshot seemed to resound above all the rest. You didn’t feel pain at that moment. You only saw blackness, and heard a faint, bellowing, pleading cry that echoed through the station, lulling you into some kind of unconsciousness.

“No!”

He launched himself across the tile floor, his scream having silenced the barrage of gunfire. Your head in his hands, he murmured under his breath, “No, no, no, no, no…”

It all came back again, flooding back. 

“Wake up, (Y/N),” he said, his hands gently shaking you to no avail. “Wake up!” he roared. 

Maggie looked on in shock, her eyes wide and her lips agape. Carol emerged from underneath the stairs where she’d hidden, seeing what happened, Daryl knelt by your bleeding body. 

“We gotta go!” he cried out, his voice faltering, but still strong. 

Machine fire broke out as Carol took the opportunity of the confusion to shoot at the remaining goons. Negan and Maggie joined to fire up at the balcony, forming a human barricade around you. 

He begged, pleaded, for you to wake up, to tell him what he needed to do, to be alive. You were breathing, but barely. There was blood beginning to show beneath you, but he frantically looked to find the source to no success. 

More gunfire, more blood. A million thoughts raced, and yet there was nothing, blankness. All he knew was you needed help, and in his panic, he cried out again, this time more in anger than in fear. “We gotta go!”

He lifted his head to turn, trying to locate some exit or something that could help. The answers had to be somewhere. 

His gaze fell upon Ezekiel across the station, himself hidden behind a broken glass partition. He peered over the top, looking in horrified confusion at your near-lifeless body, strewn on the cold, bloody tile. 

Daryl didn’t meet his eyes, he only spotted the fire extinguisher just behind him, strapped to the wall. “Throw it!” he bellowed, pointing to the device. 

He procured the auxiliary handgun he’d haphazardly tucked in the waistband of his jeans, an occasional habit you often scolded him for, half-joking that he was likely to accidentally “shoot his dick off.” It would come in handy now.

Ezekiel flung the extinguisher into the air, though not without slight confusion at Daryl’s orders. It made sense when Daryl raised his gun, narrowing his eyes to point, aim, and shoot at the flying canister. The shot was enveloped by a plume of grey that soon shrouded the whole station, a kind of smoke bomb. 

The rest was a blur, quite literally. 

Daryl knew he could carry you, if just from the sheer panic and need to get you help. He tucked both arms underneath you, one at your shoulder blades, the other under your knees. With a great expenditure of strength, every last bit of it in him, he hoisted you up. The air was thick with smoke, gunshots still raining from somewhere, but he was invisible. 

His own vision, though, was compromised, and frantically he turned in each and every direction to find a way out, until a voice called to him. It was Maggie, or maybe Carol, or maybe Diane, he couldn’t quite tell, it didn’t matter. “Daryl! This way!”

Emerging from the smoke, they came out into the open air, into Union Square. They veered off into an alley, with Ezekiel leading the way. Something about a clinic, that’s all Daryl heard. That’s all he needed to know. 

He tried so hard to keep you stable in his arms, but it was hard. He struggled to keep you up, your body weighing him down. Still, he didn’t let you fall.

“The clinic’s not far now!” Ezekiel called out, pointing in the direction. In that same direction, a large military jeep had approached, blocking the way through. The group staggered momentarily, until Ezekiel called out again, leading them down another path that jutted from the alley. “This way!” This way!”

This time, a black van. No way around, no shortcuts. “Fall back,” Ezekiel said.

It became clear when Daryl looked back, when they all looked back. Troopers were at the other end of the alley, but they weren’t shooting, they weren’t concerned with your group. They instead placed Commonwealth branded partitions, and chain link fences. 

“They’re not following us!” Carol said. 

And then he heard it. He didn’t want to hear, didn’t want to believe it, but it was hard not to know just what it was. 

Magna must’ve heard it, too. “Wait! What is that?”

Snarling, wheezing, rattling, growling. 

That’s when they started flooding the alleyway, and they all realized where they were: the slums. This was where the poor lived, the lower classes. They were driving the herd into the home of the Commonwealth’s poor, where once you lived. It was evil, and it had Pamela Milton written all over it. 

“They’re penning us in!” shouted Ezekiel. 

They weren’t just walking, though. They were climbing. 

“What the fuck?” said Negan, watching the lone walker rise about the rest, climbing upon the abandoned cart as it approached. 

Daryl saw it, too. He didn’t care. He took a glance down at you, still unconscious, still barely breathing. 

Somewhere in the chaos, Eugene and Max had found your group, and Luke and Jules emerged from the herd, barrelling towards them. None of that registered to Daryl, though, who quickly jumped back into action. 

“Move! Move!”

They rounded another corner, where more walkers were flooding in. Carol was observant, though. “Cat ‘em off!” she cried. “We got that alley! Clear a path!”

The labyrinthian alleyways they ran through seemed to dead end after dead end, with the dead literally blocking the end. Carol guided Daryl as he carried you, taking out walkers with the others to clear a path. 

He squeezed through, between the corner of a wall and the impending herd. He sidestepped, narrowly escaping the clutches of a walker, whose rotten hand came much too close to grabbing you. 

For a moment then, your eyes seemed to flutter open, just for a brief moment. He kept moving, losing his breath but never giving out. He looked down at you, a small burst of relief, but you looked so weak. 

Still, you recognized him, how could you not? In the haze of your stupor, you mumbled his name. Looking back, you saw past his arm—a stampede of walkers tripping over each other, flooding into the alley, but not following you. 

That was the last thing you’d see for several minutes, during which you swore you heard him say, “I’m here.”

~

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[sweetshelluvaau]

wait when was fizz ooc /gen

like tbf we didnt know a lot about him off-stage before oops so even tho he wasnt what he expected i wouldnt necessarily say it was ooc

same for ozzie

Maybe ooc isn't exactly the right term (at least in Oops case, the Mammon episode, oh he was completely ooc imho. I explained my thoughts about this here) more than how the narrative has everyone in the show be like 'isn't Stolas great?' and just defending him like Fizz you barely even know the guy! That or the writers fear that they can't write an abuse victim which happens to also be a horrible person. They have to be the 'prefect victim'. They took Fizz's bite away in the Mammon episode where he couldn't stand up for himself let alone have these insecurities he didn't have before out of no where?

Fizz not being able to protect himself physically? Okay I can buy that he's not a fighter. Fizz walking on eggshells around Mammon? Completely understandable being he's both his idol and his boss. But I'm sorry he wouldn't have sit there and take Glitz and Glam insults without snapping back? He'd also chew out that obsessed fan as well (which would also show how he grew from a timid teenager to a Snarky Shit). Yeah he may get a word from Mr. Christmas Tree after for the fan thing, but with G&G? C'mon, a little drama is great entertainment Mammon would eat that shit up if it means more view and money.

However with the case of Oz: He was written as if he was a complete idiot just to make Stolas look better in Oops. Yeah thankfully he didn't kiss Stolas' ass and seems to not like the guy (and I know Viv is gonna recon that in the future because god forbid we have a character that isn't a villain not like Stolas) but the whole thing with the lawyer and and Ozzie making really rash decisions (I mean yes he's hot headed but he's not stupid) and really Stolas NOT needing to be there.

Also saw someone in the critical tag mention this today: I'm sorry, Ozzie would sense something is up with Stolas and his 'feelings' for Blitzo. We had this ham fisted consent speech that went over owl boys head and you're telling me a man who's lived for thousands of years and has most likely dealt with some of the worst of humanity and demons Earth and Hell have to offer isn't gonna sense any red flags? And considering how much he hates people like Mammon, I'm sure plenty of the Ars Goetia aren't any better.

In other words Ozzie could smell bullshit from a mile away.

Also I'm ranting about this again for the hundredth time but Ozzie wouldn't sit around listening to some lawyer, he'd go to rescue Fizz himself. The guy can teleport anyways so I'm sure he can easily sneak into Crimson's compound and lay down the smack down like it's no one business because he's a SIn for crying out loud! And maybe after seeing Blitzo keeping Fizz safe and having that conversation with Stolas, Oz would likely just give Blitzo the crystal as a thank you suppose to giving to Stolas to give it Blitzo being again, he's picking up bad vibes.

That or have Fizz deliver it at a later date. After all, it was Fizz who said he 'earned it' and who's word do you think Ozzie is going to take to heart? It sure ain't Hooters.

That being said I'd also blame the fact that the same character can act one way in another episode and then have a completely different personality in the next if it means fitting the narrative. No one character is consistent and can change if it means making a character look better or again, fits the narrative of that said episode. What did they have some character development the last few episodes ago? Never mind that we're back to their old self or better yet, they have a completely new personality all together the fuck?

Honestly, I'm kinda drained from making the same agreements all time. All I wanted was a silly demon show about some silly demon assassins, not whatever the fuck we got now. At this point I just want to focus mostly my AU and other projects.

[neoyi]

Just came from theaters. Thoughts (spoiler heavy) under the "Keep Reading."

I pretty much expected the narrative to be the safest, straightest Point A-to-Point B plot. Being a ninety minute film (which my bladder thanks, because I can't watch movies past the two hour mark in theaters without rushing to the restroom nowadays), it never stays in one place or dilemma for long; this film is snappy. Everybody takes things at face value amazingly quick and advance the plot with little struggle. It's kind of odd, because normally this would bother me WAY more since the emotional impact of the protagonist's personal arc should have that gravitate (this film needed maybe like, an extra ten minutes), but I think having a paper thin plot that runs entirely in speedrun mode probably saved it more than killed. It is right to the point, says what it needs to, establishes and answers, and then moves on. I think having a laser focus goal (Mario and Luigi ends up in the Mushroom Kingdom, Peach needs to save it from Bowser, they go kick his ass) means all the little scenes that we do are crucial to the overall movie instead of pointless meandering. The action-y part of the film get to linger the most, which are spectacular to see, though I would have sacrificed a few minutes of it for some introspection. I guess I shouldn't have expected much from an Illumination film, let alone Nintendo's default flagship. When you have a brand as big as Mario (he's pretty much gaming's Mickey Mouse, after all), it makes sense this movie is just... the most Okay Thing Ever. At the very least, it does mean the movie didn't get gross out humors or Mario spouting dated catchphrases, though the pop songs playing in the background DO stick out by contrast, even if it's another thing I'd expect from a mainstream western animated movie.

Probably the biggest jaw drop is not the isekai route (I'm 36, I grew up with American Nintendo lore where Mario and Luigi were originally from Brooklyn and I'm still grateful the movie paid tribute to it because damn it, I find that aspect of Mario Lore interesting, non-canonical my ass!) , but that they have... parents. Nay, a FAMILY. Mario and Luigi have always BEEN Mario and Luigi. We see their parents from the knee down and cloaked in shadows in Yoshi's Island, but that was literally a couple of screens post-credit; we never see their faces or catch their names or anything. Even the 1993 Mario movie only had Mario and Luigi - their parents were non-essentials. Imagine my shock to see they have A Mom and Dad. What the fuck? And not just parents, they have a whole extended family living under one roof (like any true Italians, of course.) I wanna know who these other folks are. Uncles? Cousins? There's a baby there. Mario and Luigi's cousin? Is the old guy their grandpa??? Help, I don't know what to do with this information. How do I take in Mario and Luigi having an actual family?

Pauline has a brief speaking role and it looks like she's in an important position. I'm guessing she's NYC's mayor. Does she know Mario in this continuity?

I see you there, Charles Martinet, voicing a character who looks like Mario, but it isn't Mario. ;D

Speaking of family, holy SHIT, this movie also clarified whether Donkey Kong was Cranky's son or grandson. It's the first! Granted, this might be true for THIS film only, but it's nice to hear someone lay out their relationship out loud!

It is absolutely to no one's surprise that the stand-out role is Jack Black's Bowser. Every scene he's in, he nails. He delivers with so much gusto and enthusiasm - this man clearly loved playing this guy. Dude gets a piano solo in the middle of the film (a love song to his beloved Peach, of course) because Christ, man, if you're gonna use Jack Black, then you gotta use every part of that buffalo!

I've already accepted that Peach is just the oddball humanoid out in the Marioverse long before canon established Mario and Luigi as Mushroom Kingdom originators, too. But the movie does something interesting and goes out of their way to explain why she's the only human in a sea of Toads. I imagine this could be potential material for the sequel. Like Mario, it's also hinted she, too is from Earth, before accidentally wandering into the Mushroom Kingdom as a baby. I have so many questions how this kid walked into a pipe located in a very obscure part of the NYC sewers (maybe her parents were very neglectful plumbers) and even more questions on her upbringing So, the Toads decided to just one take her in, raise her, train her, and then... crown her as their princess? This brings up the question on whether the Mushroom Kingdom started as a monarchy because of her or if they were filling in a vacant seat that they felt only she was worthy. It's such a weird, eccentric thing for the Toads to just DO, especially without a feasible explanation, but also, I feel like this is something these mushroom idiots would kind of do. I mean, have you seen them? They're hopeless.

I would have been fine if Mario learned all his acrobatic parkour skills in the training montage alone, but I actually love that he's always been acrobatic just from dodging Brooklyn's many, many, maaaaany obstacles. Is it silly? Yeah, it is, but ya know what, people do parkour in real life every day, so why not?

Mario and Luigi taking off their gloves to reveal their... hands, is weirdly off-putting to me. Like these are just CGi cartoon hands, but they have like nails and creases and stuff. And it sticks out so badly that all I wanted was for them to put the gloves back ON. Which is funny to me because official Mario renders do this all the time. Like look at a recent 3D model of Mario and see the visible strewn of hairs sticking out from his hat. I don't know why the hands don't work for me. Maybe I'm just so used to them wearing gloves 24/7. Kind of like Mario's nipples.

I suspected Luigi wasn't going to do much from the trailers I've seen, and that proved correct in the final film. He does get to use the super star with Mario to beat Bowser, but I feel it went a bit unearned. Look, if there's a choice between Peach getting kidnapped or Luigi, than I'd rather it be the latter. Peach here is leagues better than what she's originally stuck with, and it really was for the better. I just kind of wished Luigi had maybe a moment prior to the final fight where he, I don't know, gain some courage, and try to free himself and all the other prisoners. I mean, the film already squeezed in Donkey Kong's daddy issues for all the five minutes it had, I don't see why they couldn't do the same for Luigi. I feel then his team-up with Mario (which isn't thoroughly unjustified - they are the Mario Bros) would have felt like a gradual step forward with his character. Ahh well, maybe in the sequel. Which probably will happen. It'll be good news for Yoshi fans if it does, if the post-credit tease is anything to go by.

tl;dr: This is a very safe movie, though I expected it as much. It's like, there are all-age films designed for their target audience, but thoroughly enjoyable for older folks, too. And then there are kid's movie which are... just for kids. This movie is the latter. It's either that or designed for longtime/dedicated Mario fans, which I am also the latter.

I'm not entirely sure if I would consider it a fun movie, but it's not bad. Shallow, but not bad. I have no genuine grievance or high praises for it. But I enjoyed my time regardless and didn't feel like it was a waste. And hey, that's fine with me.

I will absolutely be getting this on bluray, are you kidding me? (Funny little ancedote: A kid sitting next to me in theaters was thoroughly disappointed with the movie. Like straight up groaning, because Bowser did not win. It put a smile on my face. You're gonna conquer the world, kid!)