#but it’s more fun I just reveal his initials and leave the rest open to interpretation…

[the-girl-who-didnt-smile]

If anyone was curious, these are the human names for my DeviantArt OCs:

Lanmò ⇔ Léon (né “Jacqueline”)

Lavi ⇔ Laila (a woman of many names)

Port-au-Prince ⇔ Pierre

Doctor la Ficelle ⇔ Jean-Louis (“Doctor la Ficelle”, “Doctor Louie”...)

HUMAN PAPA ⇔ L.B. (ironically nicknamed “{first_name} Lebas”)

[todoriin]

adore me, hold me and explore me | moze x afab!reader

18+ NSFW, MDNI or i will delete your account, vanilla ass sex, no established relationship, obsessive themes from moze, cunnilingus, p in v, porn no plot

Being Feixiao’s closest advisor means you get to experience various interesting interactions.

Since joining her ranks, you feel as though you’ve lived through countless lifetimes, consulting and strategising with her and Jiaoqiu against formidable foes and expansive armies. You’ve seen the Merlin’s Claw swing her blade and slash countless enemies in half, learnt medicinal techniques from Jiaoqiu that may cure simple illnesses, like the common cold. 

However, the most interesting soul, without a double, is a certain Shadow Guard of the Xianzhou Yaoqing, one you have the pleasure of working with most intimately. Figuratively and… literally.

There’s a creak coming from the windows of your bedroom, the hinges wincing softly as they’re pushed open gently but too wide to be an action of the wind. At this stage, you’re no longer surprised by the stealthiness of the intruder, after all, you had purposefully left the windows open, waiting for the moment an intruder who could coat himself with invisibility would show up. 

Besides, it’s nearing dusk, he promised he’d visit then. 

“Good evening, Moze,” you greet, back turned to him as you look in the mirror, swiping balm over your lips before puckering them. 

A breath of satisfaction leaves you when he finally materialises before you, purple haze clouding out around his silhouette, revealing the usual, skin-tight attire he opts for daily. It’s a shade you’ve grown to love now, seeing it everyday (and taking it off for him a few times a week).

“You look nice,” he comments, words curt but sweet. 

You omit to tell him that you didn’t doll up because you doubt he’ll live longer with that information. “Thank you,” is all you say, smiling up at his reflection. Then, a cold hand comes up to your neck, fingers resting over your pulse as he traces your skin, eventually snaking back to fix your hair.

“The lipstick you wore today also looked nice,” he mumbles, meeting your gaze with his piercing one. 

You turn around in your vanity stool, swinging your legs over to the other side of the seat as you look up at him. His hands move up slightly to cup your jaw, indiscernible eyes gently admiring your features as you look up at him. Here, in your home, he can unwind, a skilled assassin let in to a haven too safe for him and the blood on his hands.

That’s why you’re perfect for him, because you know how to slice a man’s neck and leave him begging for more.

“Did you like it, Moze?”

He’s silent as ever, opting to just play with the strands of your hair. There are moments when Moze is silent because he does not wish to speak, but there are always thoughts circulating in that head of his, you realised that a year into the job when he started providing a sarcastic retort whenever he could. This time he’s silent because he doesn’t know how to respond, rendered speechless as you blink up at him. 

It’s an honour to render a man like him speechless, but you still want to have your fun.

“So quiet, I’ll take it as a no?” You ask, rising from your chair and walking past him. An arm snakes itself around your waist before you could get too far, tugging you right back against the chest of the Shadow Guard. “Use your words, Moze.”

“There are no words worthy enough to describe your beauty.”

Your mouth drops slightly as a sudden shyness creeps up your expression, an uncontrollable smile that you can’t hide behind your hands tugging on your lips. “Smooth talker,” you retort, pushing his chest lightly, but he hardly budges. 

You’re used to being the one to initiate all the conversations, as well as ending them.

“The day must have been treacherous. I’ll make some refreshments for you.”

Just as you turn to go downstairs, he’s once again tugging you back against him. This time, he leads you to the edge of the bed where he sits down with you standing between his legs, now a head shorter than you. Your positions have switched, now it is you running your fingers along the hood he keeps on his head, looking down into his multi-coloured eyes.

“No need for any of those,” he denies, “I am well.”

“Are you sure? No tea, snacks?”

“I have no desire for any of those, only you.”

You look away from him, bashful from his flirtatious words that he says in that serious tone of his. Seriously, how can he say that with a straight face?

“Okay, fine. You can have me,” you mutter and a phantom of a smile appears on his expression, eyes glimmering when you finally give him the indication he’s been waiting for. The thin strap of your top is being dragged down your shoulder and you shudder when he hovers a ghost of a kiss over your pulse point, getting flustered when you then feel him smile against your skin. “Please don’t tease.”

“Since you asked so nicely,” in an instant, your chest is bared to him and his hands creep up to explore the expanse of your body, touch gentle but purposeful, as if he was sculpting your curves himself, careful not to ruin you with any rogue or unwelcome grazes. “I’ll reap what’s mine.”

Then, he yanks your shorts off and cups the back of your thighs. A yelp leaves your lips when he suddenly switches you around so that you are now sat on the edge of the bed, and he, awaiting on his knees before you with hungry eyes.

There’s no time to think because all of a sudden, his mouth is on you, infiltrating your most sensitive part and the whimper that leaves you cannot be held back. You don’t know when your leg got on his shoulder, but it grants him more access as his tongue licks up a slow, torturous swipe up your entrance. 

“Moze!” You exclaim, legs twitching as if trying to kick him away, but he immediately holds you down you, an arm wrapping around your thigh to keep you there. 

You’re his target after all, he won’t stop until he’s through with you.

“Be good and take it,” he says against you, pressing a kiss to your clit before sucking and you gulp at the sensation as filthy sounds fill the atmosphere. No matter how many close nights you’ve experienced together, you’ll never get sick of him, grip inhumanely tight to keep you still as you beg for mercy, but the feeling of his mouth is too sweet to push away. The apex of his tongue circles the nub as his spare hand crawls up, collecting the slick from your entrance before two fingers intrude, breaching your walls. 

When he curls them, you know you’re done for, falling against the mattress to try and deal with the onslaught of pleasure that Moze knows how to inflict. It keeps coming in waves and waves, and neither his fingers or tongue lets up. You didn’t even realise you were crying until you felt tears drop down your face and onto the sheets. 

He’s pumping into you, briefly curling and scissoring his fingers, and his ministrations on your clit go from suckling to tracing shapes with the bud; a cruel torture that eventually results in a buildup of tension in your lower abdomen. 

You warn him about your incoming orgasm with a shrill cry of his name and a babble of words that loosely resembles a sentence, and the only thing he says in response is:

“Let go, pretty.”

So you do, mind becoming cloudy, hazed with nothing but the feeling of pleasure. Moze has now swapped his mouth and fingers, tongue lapping up everything you give him, licking you clean whilst his thumb rubs your clit in circles, trying to prod more out of you; a routine choreographed for your demise.

“Perfect,” he murmurs against your core, letting you come down from the high as he presses a few kisses up your stomach. 

His hawkish eyes watches as your expression untwists itself, no longer contorted by overwhelming pleasure. He can’t help the way his gaze then drifts to your chest, how it rises and falls hurriedly, still trying to regain your breath after he stole it. 

Your reverie is interrupted when you feel his tongue licking your entrance once again, folds pulled back by his fingers to bare more of you, and your nerves flinch at the sensation of pleasure enhanced to the maximum. “Moze! Stop!”

He obeys, pulling away immediately, serious expression unchanged save for the little glimmer of disappointment in his eyes.

“Next time,” he gruffly promises. 

Wrapping both of your thighs around his waist, you’re maneuvred further up your mattress by the assassin, completely helpless in his grip as he moves you however he wants. You would not have wanted him to stop anyways. 

Nimble hands shed his clothes and you unabashedly admire the sight between your legs, eyes so brave to wander across a scarred body that none others will get to lay their eyes upon. You trace the curve of his defined torso, how the shadows and light dance along the crevices, enhancing his already-impressive muscles. You leisurely run your gaze further down, following his abs to his cock.

Red and leaking with precum. 

It was intimidating when you first came face-to-face with it, and whilst you’re still impressed by his size, he’s taken care of you through the process every time, walking you through the pain and adaptations whilst being completely patient with you.

You want to prepare and take care of him like he had with you, so without thinking, you reach out and begin stroking him exactly how he likes it and a grunt passes by his lips, composure faltering ever so slightly.

There is no other Moze would bare himself like this to and, as a sign of his own twisted desires, he wants you to think the same of him. He wants you in ways he cannot justify, especially the part of himself that drips with violent and obsessive tendencies.

Should he get too close, he fears he will devour you when neither of you are expecting it.

Although, recently it seems that Moze allows himself to indulge in pleasures that he hadn’t permitted before, and as his hand wraps around your wrist to stop your ministrations, he can’t help but smile at the small pout that graces your lips. Rubbing his erection along your cunt, your slick coats his underside whilst his hand leisurely travels around your torso. Your supple skin hasn’t seen the severities of the battlefield, hasn’t fought and handled the brutality of men and blades like he has; the distinction between the two of you almost makes him seem like a monster.

A monster who wants to hide you from the darkness in which he lives in. 

“What are you grinning at?” You ask from under him.

“Nothing,” he murmurs, lowering his face to yours to press delicate kisses on your skin and you shift impatiently, eyelashes fluttering and hands clenching into fists. 

He notices the subtle action, takes it as sign of desperation that he wants to devour and dissolve into his veins, as if keeping a part of you with him forever. Aligning his cockhead with your entrance, your moan is unrestrained when he finally breaches your walls.

Slowly, Moze bottoms out, hands holding your hips to press you flush against him as you squirm. He doesn’t mind the way you wriggle around trying to adjust to his thickness and length, he’ll patiently hover above you, pressing soothing kisses along your face whilst staying as still as a shadow.

Even as your walls twitch and clench, he doesn’t budge, refusing to move until you are ready for him to. In a way, being connected with you like this makes him feel closer to you, and it brings a sense of peace that he cannot find elsewhere.

You are the source of it, the centrepiece of all his desires and he cannot swallow you down anymore. 

“I’m okay now,” you whimper.

He reels his hips back, almost pulling out before slamming right back into you and you cry loudly. “You sure?”

“More, Moze, please don’t be cruel to me.”

Cruel? He wouldn’t dream of it.

Setting a bearable pace, the room is filled with a cacophony of moans and continuous ‘plap, plap, plap’s of skin meeting skin. You are still the centre of his vision, eyes hardly straying away from your expression and body, keenly watching every microreaction of yours. He notices the way you shut your eyes tighter when he angles a particular way, cock breaching the most sensitive but pleasurable parts of you. 

It’s insatiable, his appetite for you. The only thing he wants to do is bring you to endless highs, over, and over, and over again.

Gradually, his pace speeds up over time, violating your insides with the neverending push-and-pull. Every time his hips snap back to meet yours, cock buried to the hilt, you feel the strands of your sanity slipping away. All you can do is babble his name and whimpers of how good he feels, hands reaching blindly for any part of him that you can hold.

He dives right into your open touch, torso leaning down to now hover directly over yours and the added heat of his body temperature makes you feel even more lucid. His shoulders are so broad, the planes of his chest defined, and stomach so toned that it drives you insane with desire; added with his precise strokes and thick cock, you don’t ever want him to leave. You don’t ever want him to stop. 

“Moze-” his lips are pressed against yours, swallowing the moan of his name and every other small noise you make as his member relentlessly spears you. 

He kisses you again and again, never straying too far, but parting often to let you catch your breath. 

“Moze, I’m-” you cry out in between kisses, “I’m gonna-!”

“Me too,” he gruffly responds, “relax for me, you’re clenching too hard.”

His words have the opposite effect because next thing you know, you’re cumming again, spasming around his cock as his strokes try to lure more out of you, draining you for all you’re worth. When you’re done, all of your nerves are fried, limbs weak and unable to hold themselves up for long without any support, but Moze hasn’t come yet, so all you can do is take his desperate and hurried strokes as he catches up to the last bit of pleasure.

Then, he comes to a halt whilst hot ropes gush into your cunt as he twitches inside you. Suddenly, his teeth latch on to the juncture of your shoulder and your neck, biting hard enough to leave a mark. 

You catch your breath in unison, waiting for him to finish completely before moving again, and when the final load is emptied, he’s capturing your lips in a kiss again. It’s hot, and your muscles feel like jelly, but he’s still desperate for more of you despite being as humanly close as possible. 

So, only moments after both of you have descended from the peak, he begins moving again, gently shushing any of your protests with a light kiss that breaks down your already weak defences. 

The squelches and plaps this time are obscene as he slowly eases in and out of you, grinding weakly whenever your walls twitch around him, but none of it is enough to quell his desire.

And he won’t stop until he has his fill. 

© todoriin 2024, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site

[whitecompri]

Sonic x lawful!reader part 2 where y/n decided to stay with sonic for a while to avoid her overbearing parents who came to visit

Chaotic Boyfriend Part 2

Check Out: Part 1

Pairing: Sonic x Lawful! Reader

Genre: Comedy, Fluff

Rating: T (Teen)

Warnings: Slight hint of adult themes

A/N: Thanks for the request! And for some reason, I'm really enjoying writing about Sonic, I have so much fun. I hope you like it.

--*--

You tossed and turned in bed, not ready to get up early on a Saturday morning. After all, it had been a long week, and all you wanted was to stay home, rest, and enjoy your day.

Your phone vibrated on the nightstand. You opened one eye, wondering who would be messaging you at this hour. Reaching for your phone, you rubbed your eyes and sat up in bed to read the message, a small smile appearing on your face when you saw who it was.

"Hey, babe, wanna spend the weekend here?"

Your eyes scanned your boyfriend’s message as you considered whether to leave the comfort of your apartment to spend another weekend in the mess he called home. As much as you loved him, it was a lot to handle. So, you started typing.

"Sorry, love, this week was kind of exhausting. I’ll stay home and rest."

He saw the message shortly after, then started typing a response.

"Alright, babe, rest up." He added a blue heart emoji.

You chuckled softly, turned off your phone, and placed it back on the nightstand before snuggling under the blankets to sleep again.

But just as you closed your eyes, your phone vibrated once more. Your half-lidded eyes focused on the notification on the screen—it was probably Sonic texting again.

Your hand reached for the phone, bringing it close without sitting up this time. When you read the contact name, your eyes widened momentarily, and a feeling of dread washed over you. Unlocking the screen to read the message, you felt yourself freeze.

"Good morning, sweetheart. Your mother and I were passing through your city, so we decided to stop by your apartment and spend the weekend."

Panic took over just at the thought of spending two days with your parents. You loved them, of course, but they were the classic overbearing parents who had opinions about everything you did. Even without meaning to, they always ended up taking away your sense of freedom.

And losing your independence and autonomy was something you couldn’t stand. They would definitely find ways to point out things that were “wrong,” even in your perfectly organized apartment.

In the end, you had no choice.

Quickly getting up, you grabbed a backpack, packed clothes for two days, an outfit to change into now, essential hygiene items, and a few other things, organizing everything and preparing to leave. You would make up an excuse later, telling your parents you were traveling and didn’t see their message—or something like that.

Standing in front of the door, you knocked—two, three quick taps—hearing a familiar voice murmur, "Coming," followed by hurried footsteps.

The lock clicked, and the doorknob turned, revealing the curious expression of your boyfriend. The moment his eyes landed on you, his face shifted into one of surprise.

“Well, well, princess, coming to check out the mess before the wedding?” he teased, his initial surprise quickly turning into mischief as he leaned against the doorframe. "I thought you couldn’t make it this weekend. You just couldn’t stay away from your boyfriend, huh? Don’t worry, I can’t stay away from you either."

“I need to stay here for a few days…” Your voice carried a hint of urgency, making him raise an eyebrow.

“What, did you break the law or something and now you need to hide from the authorities?” he joked with a grin.

“It’s worse than that… My parents are coming to stay for a few days.”

His expression shifted to one of understanding. He knew exactly what that meant, especially after all the things you had told him about your parents.

“Ah, gotcha. Well, come in then, babe. I was just making breakfast.”

He turned around and walked back inside, leaving the door open for you to follow. Taking a deep breath to brace yourself for the chaos ahead, you stepped inside and locked the door behind you.

The first thing you saw already made you frown—socks scattered all over the living room. Not only did he manage to leave them all over your place whenever he visited, but apparently, the situation was even worse in his own home.

Every time you came over, you had to clean up just to feel comfortable. Sonic even tried to help sometimes, but somehow, his "help" always ended up making an even bigger mess.

With that in mind, you started your usual routine, placing your backpack in a corner and bending down to pick up the socks spread across the floor, the couch, on top of the lamp, even in the plant pot. You still couldn’t understand how he managed to scatter them everywhere.

“Sonic… This isn’t a home, this is a crime scene,” you muttered, picking up each sock one by one.

“I prefer the term… Dynamic Environment,” he replied with a cheeky grin before disappearing into the kitchen.

Tossing everything into his laundry basket, you finally spotted even more chaos—his bed was completely unmade, damp towels were carelessly thrown on top of it, and you could feel your hands twitching in frustration. Taking a deep breath, you decided to deal with that later. Step by step.

Walking into the kitchen, an almost intoxicating smell of smoke hit your nose, making you lift your shirt to minimize the impact.

“Sonic, I just got here, and you’re already setting things on fire?” You rushed over to his side to see what was happening.

“Hm? I’m not burning anything. That’s the smell of my special breakfast,” he said confidently, standing at the stove with a spatula in one hand and the other on his hip. The pan in front of him was releasing an excessive amount of smoke. “I accidentally burned the last one.” He laughed, pointing to a completely charred piece of bread sitting on a plate in the sink.

You gave him an unimpressed look, horrified at his questionable cooking skills.

“How have you survived all this time cooking for yourself?”

“I dunno, that’s why I usually buy ready-made food,” he admitted nonchalantly, flipping the bread and pressing it down with the spatula.

“Why are you frying the bread, anyway?” You crossed your arms and watched him.

“It’s called Bread on the Grill, princess. I cut a French roll in half, spread butter on each side, and then grill it in the pan. Simple and quick.”

He took the finished bread with the spatula, placed it on a clean plate, and turned off the stove.

Then, he cut a piece of the bread and held it up to your mouth. You hesitated at first but eventually opened your mouth and let him feed you, chewing—and, much to your own dismay, realizing it was actually kind of good.

Just then, your phone vibrated in your pocket. A shiver ran down your spine—you already knew who it was.

Taking out your phone, you glanced at the screen and let out a long sigh. A notification from your dad.

“Your parents?” Sonic rested his chin on your shoulder, peeking at your screen.

“Yeah, they must have arrived and are texting me.”

Without hesitation, your fingers tapped the screen, switching your phone to "Do Not Disturb" mode and blocking notifications until you felt like checking them.

Sonic chuckled softly. “Well, at least your parents are pretty attentive.” He wrapped an arm around your waist, giving a gentle squeeze.

“Yeah… They just can’t seem to accept that I’ve grown up and I’m a responsible adult.” Your eyes filled with determination as you met your boyfriend’s green gaze.

He blinked once, then twice, before a smirk crept onto his face.

“Are you, though?” he teased.

“Sonic, you—” You turned to face him, but the moment you did, he was already gone, laughing as he ran off to the living room.

You let out an exasperated sigh, running a hand through your hair, unable to stop a small smile from forming.

Weekends with him were always the craziest.

--*--

You looked around Sonic's now slightly more organized room, letting out a sigh. After quite some time, you had finally managed to put things in order. Walking over to your backpack, which now sat on the chair by his desk, you grabbed a towel to take a shower. As you rummaged through the bag, you realized you had completely forgotten to pack your shampoo and conditioner when you left in a hurry. Groaning in frustration, you got up and headed to the bathroom—maybe Sonic had something you could borrow.

Passing through the living room, you saw him lounging on the couch, eating chips with his feet up on the coffee table while watching a comedy show. Your eyes narrowed as you spotted crumbs scattered all over the sofa and the video game controllers that you were sure you had put away just minutes earlier. But for now, you decided to focus on your shower.

"Sonic, I need to borrow some shampoo. Do you have anything?" You placed your phone on the table, still holding your towel.

"Of course, babe! I’ll get it for you." He casually tossed the bag of chips onto the couch, jumping up and heading to the bathroom.

He opened a cabinet, grabbed a gray bottle, inspected the label, and handed it to you.

"I use this one. I think it's the best."

Taking the bottle, you examined the label as well, your brows furrowing at what was written.

"Ten-in-one? What does that even mean?" You looked at him in confusion.

"It's multi-purpose," Sonic said seriously, crossing his arms.

"For washing hair, dishes, windows, floors, and cars?" You read the label in disbelief.

"And it’s great for fur, too! Keeps my quills nice and shiny." He ran a hand through his quills as if to demonstrate.

"Where do you even find this kind of stuff?" You opened the bottle, sniffing the contents. At least the scent was pleasant. But what really unsettled you was the fact that you needed an entire arsenal of products and still struggled to get the results you wanted, while he used just one for practically everything—and his quills and fur were always soft and fluffy.

"Better if you don’t ask, babe. Go take your shower. I’ll be waiting in the living room." He passed by, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before giving you some privacy.

--*--

Sonic threw himself back onto the couch, grabbing his bag of chips again. That’s when your phone’s screen started lighting up with an incoming video call.

He glanced at it from afar, debating whether to answer or leave it alone. But curiosity got the best of him, and as he got closer, he saw the name flashing on the screen—“Dad.” A wide grin spread across his face as an idea formed in his mind.

Dropping the chips once again, he picked up your phone, eager to speak to your family for the first time.

He answered the call with an enormous smile, his face way too close to the camera, startling your parents.

"Hey, pops! How’s it going?" he said casually.

On the other end of the call, your parents stared in disbelief, their mouths slightly open.

Your father’s expression quickly turned into one of fury.

"Who are you, and what are you doing with my daughter?!" he shouted from the other side of the line.

Sonic blinked, momentarily confused, but then everything made sense—you hadn’t told them about him yet, probably because you knew this exact reaction would happen. But he was more than ready to prove to his in-laws that he was the best boyfriend possible.

"Oh, she’s here, chillin’! Ran away from home, pretty rebellious, huh? You raised a wild one!" He chuckled, lying back on the couch like he was talking to an old friend.

"What did you just say, you delinquent?! [Y/N] would never go to someone’s house without telling us first! What have you done to her?!" Your father was still furious, while your mother held a hand to her mouth in shock.

"I’m her boyfriend, got it? She comes here every weekend." Sonic said it so casually, scratching the back of his head.

On the other end of the call, your mother nearly fainted at the revelation. Both of them were completely scandalized that you had started dating without telling them.

Meanwhile, you had just finished your shower, wrapping yourself in a towel and heading to Sonic’s room to change. As you passed by the living room, you saw him talking on a video call. At first, you didn’t think much of it, walking right past him—until a voice, one very familiar voice, reached your ears.

Your eyes widened in pure horror.

The realization hit you like a truck—that was YOUR phone.

Spinning around, you rushed into the living room, stopping at the doorway.

"Sonic, what are you doing?" you asked quietly, your heart pounding.

"Oh, look who’s here!" he beamed, standing up from the couch and immediately wrapping an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. Your cheeks brushed against his.

Your eyes widened even more as you saw the sheer look of panic on your parents’ faces.

"Dad, Mom... I can explain..." you murmured. You weren’t exactly mad—this was bound to happen eventually. And honestly, maybe them meeting Sonic through a video call was better than in person. At least if things got out of hand, you could just hang up.

Your mother quickly snatched the phone from your father, pulling it toward her.

"Sweetheart, are you using protection?" she asked, sounding desperate.

Your father immediately took the phone back, just as distressed.

"Or are we already going to be grandparents?!"

"Mom?! Dad?! For Chaos’ sake..." You pinched the bridge of your nose, already knowing this wouldn’t end well for you.

Sonic turned the phone back to focus only on his face.

"Relax, mother-in-law, I’m taking good care of your daughter," he said with a cheeky smile.

Your father glared at him.

"How did you even meet this guy? I warned you about hanging around with delinquents..."

The camera was suddenly yanked toward your mother’s face, cutting off your father’s muttering in the background about all the pointless warnings he had given you.

"Sweetheart, you two sleep in the same room, right? Be honest with me... Are you pregnant?" your mother asked in a hushed, worried tone.

You let out a deep sigh, preparing to give the most direct and undeniable answer possible. But before you could even open your mouth, your boyfriend spoke up beside you.

"Nah, she’s not. We haven’t gotten to that part yet..." He paused for a second, glancing at you. "I mean, I’d have to ask her if she is and—"

Your hand flew over his mouth, stopping him mid-sentence. But the damage was already done.

Your mother was now crying in despair.

Grumbling in frustration, you grabbed your phone. “Mom, Dad, I am NOT pregnant!” Then, exhausted from all the confusion, you ended the call, letting out a relieved sigh.

"Are you sure?" Sonic whispered in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. Without thinking twice, your hand reached for a couch pillow, aiming to hit him, but he dodged just in time, stopping in front of you, laughing. He lifted you slightly, keeping you firm against his body, his arms wrapped around your waist.

“I like your parents, babe. Can’t wait to meet them in person.” He kissed your cheek affectionately while still holding you close.

“Please, no…” You hid your face in his neck.

--*--

The next morning, bright and early, you were in his small laundry area, loading his clothes into the washer. You had finally calmed down enough after the not-so-smooth conversation with your parents the day before. Sighing, you stepped out, heading back to the living room to relax for a bit.

Sonic was already there, lying on the couch with his hands behind his head. He smirked when you walked over, making space for you to sit. Settling down next to him to watch the cliché action movie he had on, his hand quickly found its way to your waist, as was his habit whenever you were near.

Your eyes briefly landed on a sock sitting on top of the TV, but you decided to ignore it for now—you had already picked up enough socks for one day.

That’s when someone knocked on the door.

"I'll get it, babe. Wait here." He got up, walked to the door, unlocked it, and opened it.

"Hey, in-laws!"

Your eyes widened in shock at his words.

"Welcome to my humble home! Come on in."

Without thinking, you rushed to the door in the blink of an eye, standing face to face with your parents.

Their eyes went wide.

"It’s really her…" Your mother pulled you into a tight hug, not letting go.

"Sweetheart, are you okay? Have you been eating well?" Your father frowned in concern.

"Yes, Dad… I’ve been eating just fine…"

"We were so worried…" Your mother cupped your cheeks firmly, while Sonic stood to the side, arms crossed, quietly chuckling at the situation.

"How on earth did you even find his house?" Your eyes narrowed at them.

"A worried mother does crazy things…" your mother murmured, and you didn’t even want to imagine the absurd things she had done just to track you down.

You froze when she placed a hand on your stomach.

"How far along are you?"

Your face fell, already exhausted from this whole situation.

"Mom… I already told you, I’m not pregnant…"

"You don’t have to be embarrassed, sweetheart. No matter how much we warned you, it’s normal. You can come back home with us—we’ll take care of you both."

God, they were impossible.

"Want a tour of the house?" Sonic suddenly offered, trying to rescue you from your parents. "Over here is the couch where she lectures me." He walked further inside, your parents following him. "That’s the kitchen, where she tried to cook something but burned it. And here’s the spot where she nearly killed me after getting mad at my mess."

Sonic looked at your parents, one hand on his hip, a proud expression on his face.

Your parents just stood there, utterly bewildered.

Yeah… this wasn’t going to end well.

--*--

You placed the last plate of pancakes on the table, sitting beside Sonic while your parents stared at him, still tense. After all the chaos of their arrival, you figured it was best to organize a breakfast quickly, giving everyone time to think and discuss their concerns without causing a scene at the apartment door.

So, for now, everyone ate in silence. Sonic remained his naturally cheerful self beside you, which made you feel more comfortable despite your parents’ judgmental stares.

Your mother opened her mouth to say something, and you instinctively closed your eyes, bracing yourself for whatever it was—probably another pregnancy question. But she hesitated, choosing to stay quiet.

Then, you heard a fork being placed back onto the table a little too forcefully. Opening your eyes, your attention shifted to your father, who was still staring at Sonic, visibly irritated.

Under the table, Sonic’s hand found yours, as if silently reassuring you that he was there for whatever confrontation was about to happen.

"Let’s get straight to the point. Are you… sleeping with our daughter?" Your father asked sternly.

Sonic smirked, and you immediately knew you wouldn’t like his answer.

"Every night. She even claimed the right side of the bed."

You heard your mother let out a gasp of disbelief. Your father huffed angrily, while you froze, nearly choking on your pancake.

You turned to your boyfriend, nudging him lightly with your elbow.

"Sonic! Explain properly!" Your voice came out desperate.

"What? We literally just sleep. You guys are the ones assuming things." He shrugged, casually reaching for his juice, while you buried your face in your hands.

The situation just kept getting worse.

--*--

In the end, after many attempts and assertive, direct conversations, your parents finally believed your words, no longer asking anything for the rest of the morning. They exchanged a few words with Sonic in a normal and civilized conversation, and as time passed, your father began to relax, no longer suspicious of anything.

After a few hours, they got up to leave, your mother hugging you at Sonic’s apartment door.

“We’d love to stay longer, but we’re going to visit your cousin. Take care, okay? We’ll be back soon to check on you two.” She kissed your forehead, holding your hands, while beside you, your father patted Sonic’s shoulder.

“Take care of her, boy. If I ever find out you hurt her, I’ll personally come after you…” He shot a deadly glare at your boyfriend, who only laughed casually.

“Relax, pops, I’d never harm someone I love.”

Your father nodded at his words, turning to you and pulling you into a hug, whispering something.

“If he gets you pregnant, he’s marrying you. Understood?”

You furrowed your brow.

“What’s with you guys and this pregnancy obsession?” you asked incredulously. Sonic chuckled beside you.

“We just want what’s best for you… Anyway, bye, sweetheart, take care.”

Your parents hesitated, giving you a look that clearly said, "We’ll be keeping an eye on you two," before leaving. You closed the door behind them.

Once they were gone, Sonic wrapped his arms around your waist.

“See? I’m already approved by the family. Now we just need to make it official.”

You raised an eyebrow at him.

“You’re enjoying all this chaos, aren’t you?”

He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Hah, absolutely! Watching you struggle to explain yourself is hilarious!” Sonic grinned. “But… it’s nice having you here, you know? I think I’ve gotten used to having a gorgeous, caring, and super proper girlfriend keeping me in check.”

You felt your face heat up, avoiding his gaze.

“Good thing you’re used to it, because you’ll have to put up with me for a long time,” you mumbled, almost like a promise.

“Can’t wait.” He guided you back inside, heading toward the couch with you.

Your eyes landed on a piece of white fabric tossed on the couch, widening when you realized it was a wet towel.

“Wait… is this my towel?” Your jaw dropped upon realizing that you—of all people—had left it there without even noticing.

Sonic let out a long, amused laugh at your shocked expression.

“See? You’re getting used to the mess too. Gonna tell me you don’t like it?” He smirked smugly, resting his forehead against yours.

All you could do was laugh at how ridiculous the situation was, bringing your hand to his cheek, gently stroking his fur.

“The only mess I like here is you…” you murmured, cheeks flushing slightly.

“Good to know, ‘cause I don’t plan on changing.”

He leaned in, capturing your lips in a long, lingering kiss, his hand resting on your lower back to pull you closer.

And you had to admit, just the thought of being with him forever, the freedom and comfort he made you feel—that was more than enough to make you melt and never want to let him go.

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

One bed -Oneshot Part 2

Word count: 2813 Here you go little darlings!

Part 1

Y/N swore she had never been in a longer mission debrief.  By the time she had left the conference room for her individual review she was practically shaking.  But when she turned the corner to find Bucky he was nowhere to be seen.  

“Looking for your new boyfriend?” Sam asked as he came out of his individual review.

She rolled her eyes.  “Where is he?” Sam shrugged.  “I don’t know.  He finished early and went upstairs.”

She frowned but nodded.  “Okay, thanks Sam.”

“Have fun,” he said suggestively, giving her a mischievous smile.

“Fuck off,” she laughed and headed for the elevator.  She couldn’t stop the jittery feeling, swaying from side to side as she tried to stave off the ache between her legs.  She walked through the hallway to the personal rooms and saw that Bucky’s door was open and he wasn’t inside.  Y/N frowned and veered toward her door that was closed like she’d left it.  She opened her door and looked around.  He wasn’t in there, and her frown deepened.  Where was he?  Did he…change his mind?

The errant thought made her heart cringe as she closed the door behind herself.  But just as quickly as the thought came, it flew from her mind as a hand wrapped around her mouth and another slipped between her legs.  She gasped against the hand, her hands immediately reaching up to grip the wrists as she braced her body, but once she felt the metal she relaxed.  Bucky chuckled in her ear.  “Hey babes, miss me?” he teased.

His metal hand cupped her pussy, and she keened against his hand on her mouth, her head leaning back against his shoulder.  Her hips tried to grind down into his hand, seeking more friction.  “Ooh, desperate baby?” he teased, though his voice was more breathy this time.  She unashamedly nodded, her hands reaching back to grip his hips and pull him closer to her ass.  He groaned as his hard cock pressed into her, his forehead resting on her shoulder from behind.  “Jesus, Y/N.”

His hand at her mouth slid down to her throat, squeezing it gently as he turned his head and started kissing along her neck and behind her ear.  Y/N felt like she was going to melt, her knees buckling at the intense need she felt.  Bucky lifted her before she lost her balance, walking her toward her bed, his lips quirking up into a smile against her skin.  “Aw, my poor little babes,” he said, the teasing never leaving his tone, even as she could feel his excitement.  “So desperate and needy for me.”  He set her down at the end of her bed, making her bend her top half over onto the bed, then slipped his metal hand into her pants and under her underwear, his fingers running along her pussy.  She shivered, a whine vibrating in her throat when he removed his fingers just as fast as he’d slipped them in.  The sound of sucking came from behind her and she smirked as he groaned again.  “Mmh, all wet and sweet.  Is this all for me, babes?”

“Yes,” she whispered.  “Please, Bucky, I can’t…”

“Begging me already?” he chuckled.  The sound of his belt buckle being pulled apart and the ruffling of clothes made her look behind at him.  He let her watch him as he stripped down, revealing each part of himself painstakingly slowly until he stood bare before her.  Her eyes widened at the full sight of him, not just because he was beautiful, but because he was big…everywhere.  “Like what you see?” he smirked.

“Cocky bastard,” Y/N couldn’t help but reply.  She turned around to face him, pulling her clothes off slowly.  He’d already seen her that morning, but seeing the way his eyes drank up every inch of her skin revealed to him was affirming.  He looked at her like she was the most amazing thing he’d ever seen, and she took the initiative once she was naked to climb backwards up onto her bed until she was splayed out for him.  He couldn’t seem to stop staring for a moment, then she let her legs sit wide open and he licked his lips.  “You said later you’d make me cum with your tongue,” she reminded him.  “You sure you can?”

That was the wrong thing to say.  She knew it the second his eyes snapped from her pussy up to her face, a newfound fire and challenge in them that she usually only saw in the field.  He huffed a laugh, his usually cocky smirk now coming off as a dangerous, “you-don’t-know-what-you-just-got-yourself-into” kind of smile as his eyes narrowed at her.  “Careful, babes,” he warned, crawling up the bed toward her.  

“Or what?” she asked, trying to keep up the bravado in her voice though she knew she was pushing it.

That made him stop, his eyebrows raising at her as he hovered over her.  “Or I might not let you cum at all,” he said.  Her eyes widened that time, the smirk falling from her lips and shutting her mouth tight.  She was already so wound up, she couldn’t handle it if he just played with her and never got to finish.  “Got anything else to say?” he asked quietly.  She quickly shook her head.  “That’s what I fucking thought,” he hissed, then leaned down and kissed her hard.  It was all teeth, tongue and biting lips, not the sweet kisses she had that morning.  He was showing her who was in charge.  As much as he was all for some joking and teasing, evidently when it came to times like this he was not one to be teased.  

His hands roughly felt over her, twisting her nipples to the point of it almost being painful, his fingers gripping the more plushy parts of her tighter, then when he broke the kiss and started going down her body, he bit more than kissed or licked along her skin, leaving love bites and hickeys everywhere he went.  He rubbed the scruff of his beard along the most sensitive parts, making her hiss and moan.  By the time he reached her pussy she was shaking again.  Bucky lifted her legs over his shoulders, his hands keeping them spread open wide for him as he stared at her pussy for a moment before looking up at her.  “Look at me,” he demanded.  Y/N looked down at him, hoping she could keep that mental image for the rest of her life of him between her legs.  “The second you look away, I stop,” he said, arching an eyebrow at her in challenge.

Y/N didn’t know if she’d be able to do it, but she nodded.  At that point he could have asked her to do something horrific and she probably would have done it, just to get his mouth on her.  Bucky’s smirk returned, then he dipped his head down.  The first long, broad-tongued lick nearly made her lose the challenge as her eyes rolled back, but she quickly shook her head and looked at him again.  There was an amused look in his eyes, just barely visible above where he was nestled below, and he quickly went back to the task at hand.  He was good at this.  Too good.  His own moans and heavy breaths, the way his fingers dug into her thighs and hips, and how he seemed to get lost in tasting her all made it so much more intimate as she forced herself to keep watching.  She leaned up on her elbows, her eyes blinking rapidly.  The pressure inside built embarrassingly fast, and she could feel herself already starting to tip over the edge.  Bucky could sense it as well, and he flicked her clit fast with the tip of his tongue.  Y/N’s mouth dropped open, and she came with a squeal, her legs trying to shut against his head.  His grip wouldn’t let her budge, and as she was cumming against his face he moaned loudly, shaking his head back and forth against her pussy, letting her cum drip all over him.  It was messy, filthy, dirty, and she loved every second of it.

He finally pulled away when she stopped shaking, looking up at her with a mirthful smile.  “What?  No jokes?” he asked curtly, releasing her legs and moving to hover over her again, his hips slotted against hers so she could feel his cock resting against her lower stomach.  

Y/N fell back off her elbows and shook her head.  “N-no jokes,” she nearly wheezed.  “No more teasing.  Babes, please–”

“Begging again,” he smirked.  He reached his flesh hand down and gripped his cock, stroking himself above her.  “So desperate for my cock, huh?” he asked, smacking his cock against her clit.

Y/N tensed at the rough treatment that sent a jolt of pleasure up her core.  “FUCK!  YES BUCKY!  Please!  Please just fuck me already!”  

Bucky looked amused and a little baffled at her response, but pleased.  “That’s right,” he said, moving the head of his cock along her slit slowly.  “My good girl.  Are you ready for me?”  She nodded frantically, her legs looping behind his ass and trying to pull him in faster.  “Are you sure you want this?” he asked, this time his voice sounding unsure.  Y/N froze and looked up at him.  He was watching her carefully, his playful smirk still on his face but his eyes pleading with her.  She reached her hands up and cupped his face, giving him a reassuring smile.

“Yes, Bucky,” she said clearly.  “I want this.  I want you.  All of you.”

His eyes flicked back and forth between hers for a second before his smile widened, satisfied with what he saw.  She knew that he still struggled sometimes with himself, and he was wanting to make sure that she was all in with him and everything that came with him, the good, the bad and the ugly.  He nodded and leaned down, kissing her more gently and sweetly this time.

“Okay, babes,” he mumbled against her lips.  “Hold on to me.”

Y/N looped her arms behind his back, her legs tightening around his hips as he guided his cock toward her pussy.  He slowly thrust into her, letting her adjust to him inch by inch.  With how much he had made her cum before he slid in pretty easily, but Y/N had never taken anyone the size of him before, so she shivered as her fingers dug into his back.

“Ffffuuuuccckkkk,” Bucky huffed once he bottomed out, his head falling to the crook of her neck.  “B-babes…I…oh my god,” he hissed when her pussy pulsed around him.  “Holy shit!”

Y/N was beyond words at that point.  Her mouth was agape, her eyes rolled back as she heaved short, panting breaths into his hair.  It was like she could feel every part of his cock, every vein and rise and dip in the hard appendage inside her.  She felt like her pussy was on fire, but not in a painful way.  It was like all her nerve endings were firing at once, the pleasure and slight discomfort at his size all combining into a deep satisfaction at finally being filled so fully, but also a desperate need for more.

“You feel so good,” Bucky murmured into her neck.  “So tight and…ah, hot,” he said, his hips involuntarily rutting against her.

Y/N’s right hand moved up his back to his neck and into his hair, scratching at the hair at the nape of his neck while her left caressed down to his lower back and to his ass cheek, gripping it firmly as her legs slightly widened a little further.  “Move, babes,” she whispered.  “I need it so bad.”

Bucky moaned, his hold on her tightening as he pulled his hips back, then thrust back into her slowly.  The feeling never stopped, the endless satisfaction and perfect fullness making her feel more satiated than she ever had before.  He continued that languid pace, like he was relishing in her as much as she was in him.  All the previous challenging and teasing was tossed aside as they felt each other, her hands exploring him as he fucked her, and his own grip on her moving from firm grasps to gentle caresses.  At one point he pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against hers, their noses nuzzling as they stared at each other.  Their heavy breaths mingled, their gazes looking over each other, seeing the other anew.  It was all so intimate that Y/N didn’t realize she was crying until Bucky’s metal hand cupped her face and his thumb wiped it away.  He got distracted by the metal hand touching her, like he couldn’t quite believe that it was happening, and she made sure to catch his eye as she twisted her face to kiss his metal palm.

His brow furrowed in the middle, his eyes softening as he watched her be so gentle with him.  “God, I love you,” he whispered.

Y/N’s eyes widened just a little before she stopped herself from reacting too quickly.  Bucky looked worried at his confession, but she just smiled up at him.  “I love you,” she whispered back, more tears falling down the sides of her eyes.

Bucky smiled widely, then leaned down and kissed her deeply.  His hips picked up the pace, his right hand hiking up her left leg over his hip just a bit more before slipping between them and flicking at her clit.  Y/N moaned against his mouth, her hand in his hair tightening at the strands and making him moan again.  “Fuck yes, pull my hair,” he said against her lips.  “I feel you, Y/N.  So close, just let go.  Be good for me and let go, love.  I need to feel you so bad.”

Y/N nodded, smirking at him using her words from earlier.  She wanted, needed, to cum so badly and yet almost felt forlorn at the idea of not having him inside her for longer.  Her body had other plans though, the climax building and building until she was at the edge again.  Bucky kissed her again, licking into her mouth, and that did it.  She careened off the edge, cumming around him hard as she seized beneath him, her fingers pulling his hair so hard she was afraid she’d scalp him.  Bucky groaned loudly, mixing with her whine into his mouth, and he fucked her through her orgasm until he was thrusting harder and faster.  

“Can I cum inside you, babes?” he asked.  “Please say yes, oh my god…”

“Yes,” Y/N huffed, her body feeling like jelly.

“Thank you,” he hissed, then within a few more thrusts he stiffened and shoved himself as far in as he could.  His mouth fell open and his eyes shut tight as he came deep inside her, his hips trembling.  He whimpered, rutting into her over and over again.  Seeing him like this made her smile, knowing that she was the reason for his bliss.  After a moment he sunk down on top of her, his cheek squished against her sternum as he tried to regain his composure.  “Holy fuck, babes,” he breathed.

Y/N giggled, making his head shake on her chest as she laughed.  “Says the one with a perfect dick,” she teased.

“Perfect, huh?” Bucky smirked as he lifted his face to look up at her.  

She rolled her eyes, annoyed with herself at giving him more ammunition for future conversations she knew they would have.  “Forget it,” she said, her lips tightening to stop herself from smiling.

“No, no no, say it again?” he said, lifting himself up to hover over her face again.  “What was that?  Something about my perfect dick?”  Y/N couldn’t hold back her smile anymore, and instead shut her eyes and turned her head away.  Bucky started kissing all over her face, nuzzling his beard against her cheeks, making her squirm and squeal, trying to push him away.  “Just say it one more time, babes,” he said.  “What do I have?”

“God, fine!  A perfect dick!” she said, pushing at his shoulders.  “You have a perfect dick!”

“Damn right I do,” Bucky said triumphantly.  “And don’t you forget it.”

Y/N huffed a laugh.  “Such a tease,” she said playfully.  

“Only for you,” he said, nuzzling her nose.  “Listen, I know I said it in the heat of the moment, and you said it back but I don’t expect you to–”

“I love you, Buck,” Y/N said.  “I love you, too.”

He seemed to relax at her words, his smile softening as looked over her face.  “I love you, babes,” he murmured, hugging her tight.

[concretejunglefm]

can u write smth sub!noah related pls 🩵

Hi bb!! Here's a thot I've been thinking over for so long, milking sub!noah with one of these as suggested by @madamaaubergine 💕

CW: includes mentions of anal play with toy (m receiving), edging, milking with toy, sub/dom dynamics, reader referred to as miss/mistress and Noah referred to as pup/puppy, slight temp play(?), men begging and whimpering.

Smut below the cut 🔞 Minors DNI.

You’ve barely even started, and already he’s trembling—his knees pressed to the bed, bent in an arch as he raises his hips and ass higher in the air for you. His fingers clutch the pillow you’ve tucked beneath his chest, while a second one rests between his thighs, a puddle already forming where his precum has leaked. You see how his thighs tremble, struggling to keep him steady. He turns his head, peering at you with soft, doe eyes—the look of a puppy pleading for something—for more.

You’ve just spent the better part of ten minutes slowly working him up with your fingers, wanting to ready him for the toy you’ve selected, a new gift you wanted to present him. It’s a metal dildo, one end with a bulbous larger than the other, the cool metal no doubt a fun addition for you to dip your toes into temperature play together.

“Miss…” The word comes faint, strained, but oh so desperate. You see the way Noah shakes his hips, as though urging you to him, attempting to remind you he’s here, pleading silently not to be forgotten or left in such a wanton state.

“I know, my sweet boy, my pup,” you softly purr, crossing back over to the bed. Your gift for him is tucked behind your back, freshly cleaned and ready to be used. “I told you I have a special gift for you.”

You catch the way his eyes light up with genuine excitement, and when your gaze trails down, the corner of your lips flickers into a smirk as his cock twitches and throbs—hopeful it’s something to ease the current build-up of pleasure from your slow edging.

You can’t resist reaching out to trail your finger down along his shaft, following the thick vein that throbs the more you leave his cock ignored. It’s your favorite part about choosing to milk him like this, ignoring how his cock stands at full attention, precum leaking and ready to blow at any second with just one or two pumps of your hand. You want to make him earn it, to make him experience the delight of an orgasm through other means—through his prostate, even.

Bringing your other hand out from behind your back, you reveal the toy: the metal dildo, showing off both ends. “I think we’ll start small to begin with.” You sound almost disappointed, but you catch a distinct sigh of relief from Noah, which follows his initial squeal of shock at the sight of the toy.

Reaching for the lube, you hold both up high enough for him to see as he turns his head slightly, then begin to coat the bulbous end before bringing it down between his spread cheeks and against his already eager hole. You spread the lube, watching how his body tenses and his hole tightens at the sudden cool metal pressed against him.

“Is that cold, pup?” you taunt. With a soft press, you watch the way he parts for you, mouth opening with a soft gasp, mirroring Noah’s open mouth as he lets out a deep rumbling groan while you sink the toy into him. The best part is the heaviness of the bulbous end—the way you know it’ll press just perfectly against his prostate the moment it slips into place.

Once it does, you marvel at how his cock begins to throb and twitch once more, leaking extra without being touched.

“Oh, that’s it, isn’t it, baby? You like that?”

All Noah can do in response is whine and whimper as he tightens around the toy, feeling it pull deep and press against that sensitive spot—the one he feels has a direct line to his cock, the coil in his belly growing tighter as he teeters on the edge of his climax. Tears press in his eyes; he wants to beg, but every time he tries to find the words, nothing but a soft, whimpered sound comes out.

“Shhh, it’s okay, puppy. Just let me help you,” you coo softly in his ear. His eyes roll back, and a low, almost purring sound escapes him in response as your fingers card through his hair, massaging his scalp. Your other hand twists and motions the toy inside him, applying extra pressure against that sensitive spot, which makes his thighs tremble even more violently as he struggles to keep himself upright for you.

It doesn’t take long for him to turn into a string of babbles, begging for relief—begging for you. The soft, pleading “miss” and “mistress” are thrown at you in hopes that either will make you take pity, because he’s close, so on edge, so built up. He knows he can’t hold on much longer; his stomach muscles tighten as he struggles to hold back the rising release—until he feels the ripple effect as you apply just that extra bit of pressure, enough to tip him over the edge and send a roaring wave throughout his body.

He trembles violently on the bed as his cock spurts rope after rope of cum onto the pillow beneath, some even landing on his thighs with how violent the climax is. All he can manage between whimpered moans and sounds is a shaky apology, because he came before you said, without asking, and without your permission.

[burr-ell]

Putting Terms on the High Shelf: Main Character Syndrome

As I'm watching C2, one thing I've noticed about Caleb's various sidebars to talk to different people is that he's still very much involving them—the conversations reveal various different priorities not just for Caleb, but for the people he's talking with. Liam's RP is often geared toward encouraging character work out of the other players at the table; it's something you see with Vax early on, and it's very present with Caleb.

So I find the accusations and warnings of Liam having Main Character Syndrome, which started during C1 but really ramped up in C2, to be rather shallow. Look at the contrast between the tables during this:

and this:

In C1x27, Orion adds pressure to the cast's already-frayed nerves with him, compounded from previous incidents of bad behavior, by taking up several minutes of time purely to himself—his only interaction with anyone else at the table is to ask Keyleth for help with alchemy mechanics (fun fact, early Keyleth was into alchemy!). This included:

An attempt to buy 1500 mirrors to build a light array;

A request to his father to send in his home country's army to Whitestone; and

An attempt to combine a fog spell and a sleep spell after being told point blank that it was mechanically impossible

This was all very obviously an attempt to make himself the hero in what is clearly set up to be a Percy-centric arc. (Worth noting, for the record, is that up to this point Percy had actually had very little focus and largely kept himself in the background, while Tiberius had been in focus for most of the show's run up to that point.) Laura snarks that he's like the giant eagles in Lord of the Rings and can just do everything, and if you actually watch the clip that I've giffed above, Travis's tone is genuinely aggravated. This, by the way, is all after Tiberius was notably not present for Percy revealing his backstory to the rest of the party in episode 24; while everyone else voiced concerns for him and went down to his workshop to check on him, Tiberius largely ignored this and went off to do his own business.

That is a selfish player. That is selfish behavior and a clear example of someone who thinks the story should revolve around them. There are several reasons Orion was asked to leave, not just because he fudged his dice rolls.

C2x62 is a completely different story. None of the conversations Caleb has within that episode are just a way for Caleb to gain information; he's engaging with what the other people are doing. When he asks Nott and Jester about the letter they wrote to Astrid, he reveals a little about himself—something he is particularly reluctant to do with Jester—and they are given an opportunity to respond. His conversation with Beau gives time for both of them to check in on each other and where they're at and lets Beau give her own perspective on the politics of the Empire, the Cobalt Soul, and Xhorhas. The discussion with Fjord lets them both level with each other a little and does more work for Fjord's character, letting him open up about his insecurities and issues, than it does for Caleb's. Caleb is still initiating these conversations and he still gets something out of them, but both the players and the audience still get the benefit of the other characters pushing and pulling against that in response.

Like many terms that get thrown around in this circle ("player agency", "manipulating", "metagaming", "going dark", to name a few), Main Character Syndrome has been so misconstrued and warped to fit a heavily biased perspective as to be almost meaningless. Main Character Syndrome is not when a character initiates a lot of conversations, even if you personally don't like the conversations for whatever reason. Main Character Syndrome is not when a character chooses to take a risk or push a big red button, even if you personally don't like the choice for whatever reason. Main Character Syndrome is not when a character has an arc or aspect of lore heavily focused on them, even if you personally don't like the character for whatever reason. (Particularly considering that arc focus is entirely out of the player's control; Taliesin, Liam, and Laura did not in fact force Matt to focus a significant portion of each campaign's lore on Percy, Caleb, or Imogen's backstories respectively.)

Main Character Syndrome is specifically about player selfishness—it's a player inserting their character into scenes or roles where they do not logically belong in order to make them the center of the story, as we see with the example of Tiberius. The camaraderie at the current table versus what was going on back in 2015 does not suggest that anyone currently sees anyone else like that; everyone is laughing at the jokes made at someone's expense, and everyone is getting something to do. Your favorite character may not always be flashy or in focus all the time, but then again, you wouldn't want them to have Main Character Syndrome, would you?

[twodogs-twocats]

The Maskmaker and the Masked - Part III (Sleep Token’s III x fem reader) - 18+, NSFW

With the masks complete, you are forced to confront the future of your relationship with III. This is the final part of this three-part series.

Warnings: Not that much spice in this but a little bit. Mostly just fluff.

AN: Thank you for your patience with this final part! I never had any initial intention of expanding this into a series, but it has been a lot of fun for me to create! I hope you like this 🖤

Part II

Clay broke softly beneath your fingertips, each delicately carved line flowing with character. Four noses, brow bones, mouth pieces, carefully designed to fit both physically and aesthetically, strong structures created for beautiful men.

While your body trembled with nerves, each member studied the molds you had created. They all gave you tremendous praise, showering you with hugs (and in one case, a tender kiss). The most challenging part was now complete, your heart full of joy at their excitement.

Next the clay was left to set, a time-consuming and utterly boring process. The band was away for three days to play a few shows out of town, and you were left alone in the large manor. You whiled away a bit of time planning your paint pallets for the final masks, but mostly, you dreamed of III. This was the longest you had been away since your first meeting, and every inch of you missed him.

At night you dreamed of him. He came alive before you. No longer were your two fingers – pointer and middle, pressed against your lips – no longer were they your fingers, but his lips, soft and pink and searching. It was his hips pressing you deeper into the mattress. His hand that slowly traipsed beneath the hem of your pajama pants, touching you exactly the way you yearned to be touched. When you came, you called out his name into the empty house.

On the fourth day, the band arrived back at the manor. III wasted no time showing you how much he had missed you. Picking you up and spinning you around, he then carried you up to the room the two of you had been sharing for the last several weeks. He made love to you slow and tender, his lips rarely leaving your skin.

Silicone was poured to create the final masks, heat lamps placed strategically to speed up the drying time. Then finally onto your favorite part. A collection of paint brushes lay strewn about your work-table, paint covered your hands and caked under your nails. III occasionally distracted you with his own sinful paintings -- hickeys on your neck, the red tips of fingers molded into the flesh of your thighs, but you did not let any of the members watch you work. The final reveal was to be a surprise.

And then one day, the work was complete. You arranged the four masks in a row along the dining room table, starting with Vessel's. You were extremely proud of them, admitting to yourself that this was the most inspired you had been in a long time. Each mask perfectly captured the band's lore and the personality of each member, unique and yet blending seamlessly together.

The door to the dining room creaked open, Vessel's head peaking through.

"Hello Y/N. Are you ready for us?" he asked sweetly.

Although you knew there was really no way the masks could be any better, your palms were sweaty.

"Uh, yes. Yes, come in." Knees wobbling, you stepped away from the table. Vessel opened the door wider and the band filed in, followed by their band manager. They approached the table slowly, almost reverently.

"Y/N -", Vessel began, as he hovered over his mask. The rest of them were silent, eyes glued on your work in front of them, hands clasped behind their backs.

"You can touch them you know. Really look at them." Their quiet was making you more nervous. "You can even try them on if you like..."

The shake in your voice seemed to pull them out of their trance. "Y/N, these are incredible." Vessel said. "I knew you were talented, but I was not expecting literal pieces of art." He approached you hesitantly before pulling you into a huge hug. The warmth of his arms instantly settled you. "Thank you so much" he continued, pulling away just enough to look down at you. "Thank you for being here, for not only making these beautiful creations for us, but for being our friend. It is not always easy for us to make new friends, needing to be as secretive as we are. I hope you know you are always welcome here."

Tears sparkled in your eyes, as Vessel's voice also became thick with emotion. One by one, each member came to offer you their praise, the mood in the room becoming more lively. They bombarded you with hugs and handshakes and little kisses, each commenting on their own masks, and each other's. Now they picked them up, tactilely admiring your creations, trying them on in front of a mirror on the wall. Laughter and chatter filled the room, and your heart lightened.

Only III remained quiet, his mask held softly in his hands. This one was the most special to you, not only because of the love you carried in your heart for the man, but because of the nuance that lay in the mask's design that would only ever be noticed by yourself and III. The outside of his mask was a horror show, true to his edgy and eclectic energy. But on the inside, for his eyes only, a print of your lips.

You smiled as you watched him take this in. You knew he would understand, this cheeky little way you assured him of your connection, no matter where the world took you, this little piece of you always with him. Slowly, he looked up at you, and you saw tears in his own eyes, so much tenderness filling them it nearly brought you to your knees.

You approached him. "What do you think?" you asked shyly. He laughed, a genuine sound layered with emotion. He brought one hand to cup your face, his thumb stroking away your tears.

"I love it Y/N. You are completely brilliant." He smiled, tears streaking the bit of black paint you could see. "Walk with me?" he asked, offering you his hand.

You took it, as he led you out into the the small backyard garden. A stone bench lay underneath a large alder, and you both sat down. A subtle breeze drifted through, bringing with it the scent of fresh roses, a reminder of spring and all it's possibilities. "This is amazing you know that right?" He said, taking your hand in his lap. "I will treasure this for the rest of my life. And I cannot wait to show it off to the world. The world deserves to know you, to know what you can do."

"Thank you," you blushed, eyes threatening to give way to more tears. "The last few weeks have been some of the best of my life. You -- the band, this place -- you have inspired me more than you could realize. It was an honor to make these for you."

His grip on your hand tightened slightly. "I've been wanting to tell you-" he hesitated, seeming to search for the right words to say. "I know you have to go home, and I know home is far, but I will do whatever is takes to keep this," he placed your hand over his heart "to keep us going. I love you. I've felt that way for a while."

And now the threatening tears fell, his words, so long awaited, melting away any semblance of self-control.

"I love you too III." You smiled, laughing through your tears. "Home is wherever you are. I can't give you all the answers, but I can promise you I will try. I actually have another surprise for you."

"Oh do you know? Y/N, my love, you spoil me too much." He laughed.

You giggled back. "I think you will like this one." You pulled a small key out of your pocket and placed it in his hand. III's brows furrowed.

"I found an apartment in London. I'm going to stay here, give us a chance to keep this going, see where it takes us. Of course I'll need to go back for a few weeks to pack up all my things, make some arrange-" You words were cut off by III's lips, pressed firmly to yours, his hands pulling you tightly into him. Your face felt wet and you realized he was crying. He barely breathed as he kissed you.

"I can't believe this," he pulled away only a bit, his lips still hovering a mere breath away from yours. "You are staying here. With me.”

"I love you III. I'm not going anywhere."

"I'm so happy Y/N," he said. You met his lips again, this time your tongues melding together. As you kissed, you felt the fabric of his mask shift, followed by the feeling of a nose, the softness of skin, bumping into yours. He pulled away ever so slightly, breaking your kiss. You could now see he had removed his mask, but he was too close for you to take him in.

"I hope this is okay. I figured it was time for the maskmaker to meet her masked."

Unbridled by any expectations, filled with nothing but love and joy so pure it seemed to radiate, you pulled away to greet your beloved.

[maleyanderecafe]

Flowers of Evil (Visual Novel)

Created by: boyinajar

Genre: Romance/Horror

Just like a lot of games, I've been having my eye on this one for a bit. Flowers of Evil was made for the #yanjam, and I think as of writing this, the current demo could just be an entire game if some of the options were removed. It's really cool to have non human yandere characters in games, so it was pretty fun playing this one and seeing Wither in action. If you are curious about this game, please check out more at @flowersofevilvn, and they are creating another game called @darlingdollhousevn if you enjoyed this one.

The default name for the MC is Buttercup, so I will refer to them as such through this review.

Buttercup wakes up one day like any other to head to their class in university. Walking through the forest to get to campus, the find out that class is not in session, with a note that states there won't be class today instead of an email. With their new free time, they decide to head into the library and starts to read some poetry when they are interrupted by a man named Wither, who seems interested as well. Buttercup can either try to converse with him or try to leave after first meeting with him.

If Buttercup decides to converse with them, Wither will ask them out on a date. Buttercup will initially refuse because of their classes, though coincidentally, the class is cancelled due to car problems relating to plants. With this, Buttercup accepts Wither's invitation, and the two go walking in the town. After going through the flower shop, Wither suggests going into the woods next. As the two walk, Buttercup suddenly feels really anxious, and tries to leave, however, Wither grabs them. They realize too late that he's not quite human, and Wither explains himself as some sort of lichen. Wither drags Buttercup into the meadow, stating that he created it just for them, just to protect them from the rest of the world.

If Buttercup attempts to leave, Wither will be annoyed, stating that this isn't what was suppose to happen, attempting to sing more poetry to lure them back in. As they leave, they get a notification stating that their next class is cancelled due to some plant problems with the professor's car. Here they can either decide to go home through the path or through the town, freaked out by Wither's presence.

If they decide to go through town, Buttercup feels rather unnerved, and they see Wither following them around. They start to freak out, believing that he might have been following them for some time, even before their initial meeting. Buttercup decides to run home to safety, paranoid that no one can help them, not even the police. After falling asleep, they wake up to the sound of breaking glass only to find Wither, breaking open the window with their hand which has turned into a sharp branch. As the plants capture Buttercup, Wither ends up taking them with him, likely back to the forest.

Going through though the path, Buttercup starts to realize that they've been walking for a lot longer than they should have, and noticed that the path behind them is completely gone. Not able to try to go back, Buttercup tries to keep on going forward, until they reach a meadow that they've never seen before. They end up meeting Wither there, who reveals himself as a lichen. The plants grab at Buttercup onto the floor, with Wither happily lying down with them. Wither captures them, happy that they will be together.

I gotta say that this creator makes pretty good creepy designs, whether it be purposeful or not. I think it really adds to the dangers that yanderes have, and it's especially good for the scenes where Wither breaks into Buttercup's house or when he's stalking them around the town. I think that the design with it's leaves is pretty neat too, though it does kind of look like he's fallen down in the forest and forgot to clean himself up a bit. If he does have a more monstrous form, I think it would be neat to have holes in his face or hands to show off the more decayed side to him, but that's just an idea.

I think that this game does a pretty good job of horror, especially the idea of the plants coming to basically take Buttercup into the meadow, and the way that they're not able to escape. The choice of music makes some scenes feel very tense, especially when Wither reveals himself to not be what he seems. I think the notions of using poetry are pretty nice and it does make me wonder where he learned all of it or how he was able to make a human body in the first place. I assume that he fell for Buttercup because he saw them walking in the forest and tried to make something that would appeal to them.

In terms of yandere behavior, Wither pretty much made their physical appearance based off what Buttercup likes, cancelled two classes to get them to hang out with him (possibly killing one of them, considering the note), stalks them in certain endings, breaks into their house with one and kidnaps them to a meadow filled with their favorite flowers. There's actually quite a lot going on in terms of yandere things, and it does make me curious how Wither was able to pick up on what kind of things Buttercup likes and again, how they got into poetry in the first place. From what I recall reading, it is stated that he has a bit more of chivalrous personality that he bases on the books that he's read, thus leading to all of the ways that they act towards Buttercup. That kind of idea is always pretty cool, with a yandere that tries to become what their lover wants to be.

Overall, a pretty fun and short game. This is technically a demo (though I feel that it could just be it's own full but short game if the other options were removed) and I am curious to see what will happen next. I am excited to see how this one and their other game will develop in the future.

[a-cloud-for-dreams]

timeless

Pairing: Radha Basu x Deviya Sharma

Radha x Devi Taglist: @agattthaa

A/N: I had a dream about Radha and Devi (technically the entire Basu family) but scrambled to turn it into something for my beloveds. I’m just gonna *casually* toss it into existence and run away because idk how good this is

Fun Fact: To all the readers who know about my Choices OH MC, Dr. Chandini Ramakrishnan, the woman referred to in this fic is her mother (Naveen Banerji's daughter)!

Divider Credit: @saradika

Basu Residence, Present Day

“Please, I urge you to reconsider-”

The woman held a hand up to stop the man from speaking further. “My mother died without once mentioning its existence. This is the first time I’m stepping foot in this home!”

“But…she did Miss,” he scratched his head. “Every summer she and your father visited India, they stayed here, even when a hotel would have been more convenient. They brought you here all the time when you were a baby, and I know it would break her heart for you to sell it. Not to mention Dr. Banerji-”

“I don’t remember asking for unsolicited advice, please just move all the previous belongings out," she sighs, signaling for him to leave. She didn't have time to worry about family property now, especially since her mother died years ago. She should be at home with her daughter and husband. But of course, Father insisted I handle this when I'm at my busiest!

She turned her gaze to a portrait half covered by a rich purple cloth. It was of a woman she didn’t recognize at first. She uncovered the portrait carefully, as if she was scared of disrupting her serenity. She slowly traced over the woman's dark brown hair and around her amber eyes, combing through her memories to assign a name to the face in front of her. Her father must have mentioned her at least once...

Wanting to see what else was hidden throughout her home, she spun too quickly, causing a tower of boxes to topple over. The woman scoffed. Just what I need! She bent over to gather everything that fell when a mahogany box with gold accents drew her eye. The lock broke open after the fall, revealing its contents that were filled to the brim.

Upon further inspection, she found a collection of handwritten letters tied in a bundle with string. Some appeared to be incomplete drafts but others were pages long. They were neatly organized in the box before they were sprawled out on the floor. She picked up each letter, tracing over the words.

But I find myself thinking about her more and more. It’s hard to focus on anything else when she’s mere steps away...She looks even more radiant with flowers braided into her hair.

I played with the ring on my finger, she gifted it to me a few days ago. She said she named the purple stone after me, but she doesn't know that how my heart skipped a beat after hearing those words.

It took all of my strength not to run up to her and embrace her in front of everyone. They can’t know, they can never know.

She's sleeping soundly, next to me. I feel her warmth, her hand resting over my belly. I should be asleep as well, this is the most peace of mind I've had since, I don't even remember how long! It doesn't matter what happened before. I'm all hers, and she's all mine.

Mine...

The words rippled through her mind like the ocean tides. Powerful. Touching. Overwhelming. She pressed a hand over her warm forehead, feeling her mind trapping itself in a haze. A primal headache overtakes her senses. She leaned against one of the pillars to regain her thoughts and catch her breath, but she failed. She couldn't help but scream.

Basu Residence, 1913

Radha Basu was annoyed, bordering on angry. Well, as much as she could possibly be. As Devi always teases, she could never stay mad at her beloved for long. But this time, she intended to remain strong and teach her a lesson. The Basu heiress heard quiet footsteps trailing behind her, initiating her plan.

"You look nice," Devi said with a smirk. It took all of Radha's self-control for her lips not to curl into a faint smile. Don't smile! You're mad at her!

"Did I not look nice before?" she says, her voice purposefully devoid of emotion.

"I never said that."

Radha scoffed, tucking a few loose strands of hair behind her ear. Devi frowned, crossing her arms over her chest. She looked both ways, making sure the room was clear before hugging Radha from behind, Devi's arms loosely wrapped around the Basu heiress's waist. She buried her head into the crook of Radha's neck, taking pleasure in her warmth after spending the cold morning riding Deimos.

"I know what happened today." Devi stilled, Radha waited to see if she would say anything in her defense before continuing. "How long did you think you could hide this from me?"

Devi sighed, moving away from Radha. "It was an accident, the doctor said it would heal fine!"

"What if it wasn't! What if something happened to you that wouldn't heal so quickly? You can't keep recklessly endangering yourself!" Radha exclaimed, placing a hand over her forehead.

Devi's eyes widened and she took Radha's hands and placed them in hers. "Is there something else bothering you, my darling?" Radha sucked in a breath, shivering at the direct contact of her cold hands.

"N-no," her voice faltered. Devi gave her a look before pulling Radha closer to her and kissing her forehead. She rubbed her lower back as well, hoping to ease her tension.

"Please don't make me worry. We're already kept apart for most of the day, I want our few moments to be filled with joy and laughter, not sorrow."

Radha sighed, blinking away the tears forming in her eyes. It was a bittersweet feeling, to love someone so deeply that you were petrified of any danger fate may throw their way. This was her Devi. The one who comforted her when she needed support. The one who would risk her family legacy for her. The one who loved her unconditionally and never made her feel anything less than extraordinary.

"I don't want you to leave me like Raj did."

It took all of Devi's willpower not to groan. Sometimes, it astonished her how deep a scar that man left on her darling. She picked her next words carefully, her hands massaging her shoulders.

"I would never do that to you, what he did is completely different-"

"I don't mean it like that!" Radha yelps, not wanting her to get the wrong idea. She takes in a deep breath before continuing. "I know you would never do that. But you aren't blind to everything around us. I am to marry your uncle, you're to be married off to de Clare-"

"Ah! Don't remind me!"

"Devi, I just..." she runs a hand through her thick black hair. Her thoughts were a mess, there was a heavy burden placed on both of them. "I don't think I could exist in a world without you in it. I know I can't. And here you are putting yourself in danger every chance you get!"

"You know I'm doing this for us, for Rati and Kairas," her voice became strained thinking of their deaths. "How can I rest knowing there's a murderer amongst us?"

The Basu heiress sighed, looking away. Devi was right, and her heart ached with a strong desire to make those responsible for the fire pay. They would suffer for the pain they caused. The damage was done, but unfortunately for them, they will not be given an ounce of mercy.

Devi smiled softly, her fingers tilting Radha's chin upwards to meet her gaze. She teases, "You will never lose me, even if I come back as a bhoot I will only haunt you."

Radha rolled her eyes lovingly. "How romantic you are, Miss Sharma."

Devi smirks, her lips grazing Radha's ear. She whispers:

"There is nobody I could ever love more than I love you..."

Basu Residence, Present Day

The woman collapsed, breathing heavily. Her hair was disheveled and her hands felt dirty from the dried ink rubbing off on them. She tried rocking back and forth to quell the murmurs in her head as the tingling sensation in her fingertips gnawed away at her psyche. The man from earlier ran back, bringing a glass of water. He placed it near a bench before crouching next to her.

“Miss, are you alright?” the man tried comforting her. She remained still, unable to form coherent words.

I must be going insane.

“Y-yes, don’t make a big deal out of it,” she smoothed over the ends of her skirt. “I’m fine.”

The man looked puzzled, staring at her for a beat too long. The woman looked confused. She snapped her fingers to call for his attention.

“I apologize, it's just--you remind me of them,” he vaguely gestures at the portraits. "I've heard the rumors but seeing you face-to-face after so long..."

She rolls her eyes. “How clever you are. This may come as a shock, but we are related.”

He shakes his head, chuckling. “No, I mean you have their fire. I haven’t seen it in quite some time. You come from a family of very strong-willed women, you know.”

She was hit by a sudden pang of sadness by his intensity. No, I don't know. Questions immediately surfaced at the forefront of her mind. Who were those women? Why did she see them just now? Did they manage to protect their relationship till the very end?

She didn’t say anything, but hearing the man's words made her feel like she’d lost something she’d never known. Like a piece of her past was being erased right in front of her.

And the worst part? She didn't even know what she was missing.

[minkkumaz]

IGNITING OUR LOVE

deciding to give each boy a chance, you fueled their need for friendly competition. between woonhak and jaehyun, they both put on a show to see who impresses their lady the most. however even after going on a proper date with each boy, there's something you're still unsure about. RACE TO YOUR HEART series

PAIRING woonmyungz x fem!reader WC 5.4k TAGS adults dni. racecar driver au. no poly relationship. mentions of toxic relationship. fluff. seperate dates. lowk crackfic. very unserious at times. kidnapping jokes. TAGLIST @skullverse OMI NOTE this turned out way fucking longer than i anticipated it to be omg. this is like a summer with you all over again. (it'll get worse as time flies by.. i have a few long ones up my sleeve)

fiddling with the hem of your skirt, you waited on the curb of your culdesac for a familiar boy to drive down the road. it had been two weeks since woonhak and jaehyun initially asked you out on a date. they maneuvered the timing around one another, leaving you with woonhak today and jaehyun tomorrow. 

there was an unfamiliar feeling in your chest, exploring into the deepest depths of your heart. so sweet it could give you cavities, yet sour enough to make you flinch. it wasn’t everyday you went on back to back dates. but in a way, you were somehow thriving. everything got so much easier when you started opening up more, so you became positive that tonight would be fun, as well as the following day.

as you waited, you remembered back to the phonecall you had with your friend explaining every little detail to her. how they found you that day, and how you decided to spend the next with them, only for both boys to ask you out on a day. shocked was an understatement, she almost flipped her shit in the best way possible. despite the undying love she had for woonhak, she was considerate of your feelings and thought it was ‘cupid blessing you with love.’

a blessing in disguise, yet as the clock ticked you became queasy. peaking over the houses at the end, a car drove into your neighborhood that you didn’t recognize. you weren’t expecting woonhak to show up in his race car, so you kept your hopes high that it was.

the window rolled down, revealing the smiley boy that you were expecting to see. he was dressed casually, with a sweater vest over a plain white tee and some jeans. the outfit you were wearing was just a plain skirt with a shirt, so you were thankful that he went casual as well.

“hey! you look– you look really cute!” he spoke out the window, clicking the button to unlock the door to the front seat.

“thank you..!” you blush, buckling yourself in, “um i don’t think you told me where we were going yet? you’re not going to kidnap me are you?”

“oh my gosh– of course not! i probably should’ve asked before, but that’s just my terrible planning. are you okay with roller coasters? or just amusement parks in general?” hints of worry lace his tone, but you nod in response.

“i don’t mind them at all! i’ll try everything for the first time so, don’t even give it a second thought!” you smile softly.

“perfect. i promise you’ll have fun!” he steps on the gas, carrying the two of you out of your neighborhood and towards the destination.

“i don’t doubt that for a second.” 

the car drove smoothly against the road, every house and building passing by into a colorful blur. everything about the atmosphere was calming, a playlist running quietly in the background to ease your thoughts. 

a comfortable silence washed over the two of you. no words were spoken, but it was nice. woonhak moved his hand over the dial to turn up the volume on the song that was currently playing. the volume stays stable throughout the rest of the car ride.

when you guys pulled into the busy parking lot, all of the rides looked much larger in person, making your eyes go big. there were long, colorful rollercoasters, as well as dropper rides, and ones that would swing around in circles. 

“excited? my favorite is that one right there!” woonhak leans over the center console to point at one of the rollercoasters.

“you’ve been here before?” you question, looking at his face which is only inches from yours. 

taken aback, he quickly pulls away, “oh– yeah! i actually came here with my friend taesan not too long ago, but it was super packed so we couldn’t get on that one..”

“hope– hopefully the line isn’t super long! we should go!” you stutter out shyly. 

“yeah, let’s!” he rushedly opens the door as you do as well, getting out of the car.

“do we need to purchase tickets at the front?” you ask, walking alongside him to the entrance.

“i already bought them so we just need to go through and have the person scan them.” he hands you a piece of paper with a barcode on the side.

“okay, cool! i’ll pay you back when i get home!”

“are you serious, i’m not letting you pay for anything today! it’s all on me, okay?” he insists as you near the entrance.

“what?! these tickets are probably expensive, it’s only right i pay you back.” you furrow your eyebrows, and he just ruffles your hair.

“i’ll block your number if you try to send me money, it’s my day to treat and get to know you more.” he argues, not taking no for an answer.

“you suck, i’m paying next time.” you give in, flattening your hair.

“are you already planning for our next date?” he smiles joyfully.

“what– no! well i mean? shut up!” you groan, “i’m not just go on a strike from hanging out with you, it doesn’t have to be a date!”

“i’m still going to be delusional tonight and tell jae you said that.”

“you’re already insufferable.” you joke, entering through the gates of the amusement park behind him.

while there was a lot of people, it was nothing according to woonhak. the sun was bright on your face, making you thankful that you wore sunscreen. there was a multitude of activities to do, as well as some fair - esque games.

despite it being bright out, the different colored lights on the rollercoasters and booths were still prominent. you were impressed by how nice this park was, having not been to it before. woonhak held out a hand to you , scratching the back of his neck nervously. you gingerly accept, remembering the only other time you held hands with him was very sudden, with less romantic intent.

he intertwines his fingers with yours, leading you around and pointing at different things the two of you together. though you said you didn’t have much of a preference, he wanted to find something you enjoyed. in the end, you decided on some bumper cars that didn’t have much of a line.

“i can just never escape driving, can i?” he lets out an exaggerated sigh, clipping in his seatbelt like the operator told him to.

“you said you’d do whatever i wanted to!” 

“i’m kidding, i just want you to have fun!”

“then let me have my fun by pushing you into a wall.” you smile, moving your car backwards before pressing the gas forward to push woonhak.

“hey! you’re not going to get away with that!” he yells as you scurry away.

the two of you chase after each other in your cars, the bumpers becoming worn out from colliding with one another. laughter fills the mini arena. the antenna on the back of your vehicle shook every time he came in contact with you.

however, the fun was short lived as you had a time limit to ride, before giving up your spot to the next person. that idea never stopped either of you from having a lot of fun.

“i– i can’t breathe oh my gosh you kept making me laugh!” you pant.

“it was my number one distraction technique.” he brags, brushing imaginary dust off his shoulders.

“yeah but you probably gave me whiplash, so you’re paying for my surgery.” you shove his side lightly.

“are we going to pretend like you didn’t knock me into tomorrow?! how am i supposed to drive when i can’t even move my head ninety degrees!” 

“you’re dramatic, i’m not as strong as you are!”

“bro we were in cars? it doesn’t even matter if i’m stronger than you.” he rolls his eyes before instinctively putting an arm around your shoulder.

the action made you feel small against him, immediately shutting up your friendly bickering. he pretended not to notice, but was fearful that you were uncomfortable with him. was it too sudden? should he have given you a high five or something?

in an attempt to move his arm away, he taps lightly on your skin to play it off. what he didn’t expect was for you to raise your hand up to his and place it atop, stopping him from moving away. a smile appeared on his face as he continued walking with you through the large crowds.

you admired the scenery around you, woonhak watching your eyes dart to anything and almost everything. a pallet of different smells combined together and waffed in and out of your nose. looking at all of the different booths and food stands, your eyes light up upon seeing an arrangement of ice cream flavors on a big sign.

“a little birdie is telling me that ice cream sounds pretty good right now.” woonhak meets your gaze as you try to hold back your excitement.

“that little birdie and i have something in common, i think we might be twins. maybe soulmates?” you grin as he walks the both of you over to the line.

“on second thought, that was my original idea and i take full credit for it!”

“sorry woon i’m only into birds now.”

“fumbling to a bird is somehow worse than to jaehyun.” 

“ouch, you gonna take that kim woonhak?” 

“don’t hit me up, i’m too busy trying to decide what i want out of these thirty different flavors” he puts his free hand up to your face, and you only punch his palm lightly in return.

“speaking of flavors, that snickers one actually looks really good.” you say, drooling at the thought.

“woah! they have a rainbow flavor..?” he points out, sounding more like a question.

“have you never had rainbow sherbert before?” you wonder out loud.

“no, sorry, i don’t fuck with eating frozen unicorn shit.” he says blankly, but immediately smiles after.

“you’re missing out it’s kind of peak.” 

“then how about you get it and i’ll try some of yours?” he holds out his hand.

“fine, i suppose i’ll take one for the team so you can try your stupid rainbow sherbert.” you kick pretend rocks, before shaking his hand.

once you get up to the window, woonhak orders the ice cream for the both of you. he ends up ordering rocky road, while you get the rainbow sherbert for him to try. you can see the soft ice cream dispensing from the machine behind the worker. 

after waiting patiently, but not for too long, two cups of the fresh dessert you were yearning for was placed in front of you with a spoon and a ‘have a good day!’ you and woonhak thanked the worker and searched around for a place to sit. a shaded spot that wasn’t very busy was decided on, so you both sat down next to one another.

“okay, be ready to have your life changed!” you inform woonhak, dipping your spoon into a corner of the ice cream. 

“are– are you going to feed it to me?” he asks, blush washing over his cheeks.

“i was going to but um– if you don’t want me to i don’t have–”

“no! it’s fine. you’re fine. i mean– ah?” he gives up on stumbling over his words, gaping his mouth open slightly for you to deliver the soft treat to him.

“yo, you might be right. unicorn shit isn’t half bad!” he jokes.

“woonhak you need to get a grip before i ditch you on this date.”

“hey! you love hanging out with me! don’t deny it.” he frowns, licking any excess ice cream from his lips.

“okay maybe you got me, but i’ll leave in a heartbeat.” you fake threaten, watching him become smiley again.

“you know, i’m surprised you went through with this whole date in the first place.” he commented, “you’re too pretty to be single..”

“well, i wasn’t exactly single. didn’t jaehyun tell you?” you could of swore he already knew about your ex.

“not a single word!”

“shit uh.. you see when mommy and daddy love each other, but things don’t go exactly as planned–”

“bro i’m not that much younger than you, a few months at best!” he complained, watching you giggle at his reaction.

“okay okay, i did date someone in the past. and he kind of fucked me up like, really bad? i don’t think i gave jae the full sob story but..” you explain, the change in your tone becoming evident, “he was very manipulative, and i stuck through every little bullshit story he plotted into my head. there was no way he actually loved me, more like the idea of me. so two months later, and boom i’m at this race trying to get my head in the game.”

“like troy bolton?” his question raises your mood slightly.

“yes, like troy bolton.

“i’m so fucking sorry you had to go through that, there’s no way he deserved someone as funny and kind as you. it’s his loss.” woonhak shrugged, moving his hand slightly closer to yours until your pinkies touched.

“nah, don’t mention it. everything is finally starting to get better. and not to be sappy or anything, but you and jae have been such awesome people to hang out with. definitely made the process a lot smoother in the end.” you sigh, trying to shake off the depths of the conversation you were having.

“i’m um.. i’m glad you trust me enough to tell me these things. i’ll always be here, you know?” he mumbles, almost coming out like a whisper. despite the large crowds amongst you, it felt like it was only you and woonhak in that exact moment.

“thank you, woon. you’re sweet.” you compliment him, taking a portion from your ice cream to try it on your own. 

“you kind of missed your mouth a bit.” he laughs.

he moved his hand to the corner of your lip, gently wiping off whatever you had gotten on your face. his touch lingers for a moment too long. you already begin to feel the heat building up in your cheeks, something you haven’t felt in quite awhile.

woonhak had always been very gentle with you besides his chaotic persona. both jaehyun and woonhak have. and for the two weeks they’ve known you, you could tell that they thrived on taking care of others, especially each other; even whenever things got a little crazy in the group chat you had formed with the two of them. that’s what you admired most about their dynamic, nothing was too serious.

when he pulled his hand away from your lips, you missed the touch of his hand against your face. he tried to brush it off with a nervous chuckle, going back to the dessert in front of him. it was like nothing had happened, but the burning sensation in his chest showed that everything happened.

the rest of the day with woonhak continued like normally. there were a numerous amount of things for the both of you to do, and it felt like you got around to a decent amount of it. your feet hurt from walking around so much, but it was all worth it in the end. 

going on large scary rides that you were intimidated by, just to have the time of your life, eating so many sweets til your stomach hurt, and watching the fireworks light up the sky into a beautiful portrait of sparks. each second spent next to woonhak made you forget about every other worry, every other little thing. it was a sweet date the two of you shared, and you wouldn’t take it for granted.

but the hole in your stomach was no secret, because as you sit in woonhak’s car while he drives you home, you became scared for the date you’d have with jaehyun. was it so terrible to share such a meaningful time with woonhak, and share something so similar with his best friend the next day?

it was difficult to believe they were okay with this, and you still didn’t understand just quite. though you tried your very best to think on the bright side of things. you’d have just as much fun with jae and whatever he had planned, and it was okay if you felt strongly over one date than the other. because at the end of the day, you had to pick.

the sudden halt of the car brought you back to earth, woonhak putting his car in park and looking over to you. street lights from outside barely illuminated the expression on your face, but he knew that you were beautiful.

“today was really great, y/n. thank you for letting me take you out.” he murmured, not wanting to let you leave just yet.

“no, thank you. i really enjoyed myself, you made everything perfect.” you assure him, letting one of your hands rest on the door handle, and the other in your lap.

“text me photos and everything later, okay?”

“got it. i’ll see you later woon.” you tell him goodbye, stepping out of his car into the coolness of the night. before you start walking away, you hear the window roll down.

“do me a favor, please?” he yells out to you, making you turn your head, “have fun with jae tomorrow, i’ll be waiting for you.”

you could only nod in response before he begins to drive back down your street and out of your view. the tired in your eyes became evident as you walked up to your porch, unlocking your front door to bask in the comfortability of your home. 

whatever was in store for you tomorrow, you didn’t want to think about it for now. because in your dreams for tonight, it was only you and woonhak.

when you woke up in the morning to greet the world, it had selfishly turned its back on you. it was not in fact sunshine, rainbows, and butterflies, but in fact just the deathly sun burning you like an stove in your own bedroom. today was significantly hotter than it had been yesterday, but it was all in fun of the summer. what that told you initially was that today was going to be interesting.

you hurried yourself to get ready, slipping on an outfit that would help you battle the humid weather. a lot of things ran through your mind like wild fire as you prepared for your second date. the buzz of your phone getting notifications vibrated your vanity. finishing up as soon as you could, you sent jaehyun a message to let him know you were on your way outside.

similar to yesterday, you genuinely had zero clue what he had planned. there were only so many date ideas you could think of off the top of your head, only increasing your curiosity as you stepped down the stairs. you checked your appearance quickly on your phone before heading out the door, seeing his car parked right in front of your house.

“jae!” you wave, as he unlocks the doors for you to let yourself in.

“hi, y/n! you look really pretty, hard to find a good outfit for the weather?” he grins at you, starting to drive as soon as you’re all situated.

“can you imagine? my wardrobe is built for winter so i tried my best. guess i pulled it off then.” you replied, excitement and nervousness coursing through your veins. 

“i can always get my friend taesan to customize you some pieces if you’re ever running low on something for your wardrobe. he’s really talented so me and woon are always wearing his stuff.” he takes one hand off the wheel to point to his shoes that looked painted.

“those do look cool! might have to cop me a pair.. is taesan free tomorrow?” you joke as jaehyun just rolls his eyes dramatically.

“hey man, this is our date, let me gatekeep you just for today!” he whines.

“our date, yet i’m your man?” you quirk up an eyebrow, stifling your laughter.

“i don’t judge, woonhak is basically my man baby in disguise.” 

“myung jaehyun you are absolutely foul with these woon - baby jokes, he complained about them all day yesterday and i could not stop laughing.” you cross your arms, pretending to be serious.

“i can’t help it! he’s my baby and i stand by that until i die.” he responds, twisting and turning down the road.

“oh by the way, where are we going? you never really told me anything in our texts?” you remember to ask him.

“right! i wanted to keep it a surprise, so you’ll see when we get there.” he winks.

“god, it’s me again. is this how i get kidnapped and tied up in a basement where i’m lead to my ultimate doom?” you pray out loud, earning a chuckle from the boy next to you.

“i’m not going to steal you away, we’re almost there anyways.” he points in the direction of a large building, “see, it’s right there!”

“jae.. is that an aquarium?”

“they have games there too.”

“be right back i need to text woonhak that i’m emotionally unavailable for the rest of my life.”

jaehyun flashed you another smile, glad that you’re content with his choice of date. it was a secret to you that he was panicking last minute the night before. why did every remotely cool place have to be closed off for that specific day?

he pulled the car into a parking space closest to the entrance, though it wasn’t long before you were leaping around with excitement. your bag gently hit against your hip as you walked up ahead of him with a pep in your step. jae quickly pulled out his phone and took a couple instagram - worthy photos that he’d send to you later.

blue lighting immediately fell over the two of you like a comfy blanket, a numerous amount of fish able to be spotted from where you were standing. you stood awe - struck at the colorful water creatures that float around in their tanks while jaehyun paid for tickets.

“okay, what do you want to do first?” he hands you a ticket that you put in your pocket.

“can we go check that out? i don’t know what it is but it looks huge and i kind of want to pet it.” you move your arm into the crook of his, intertwining them together so you can lead him where you want to. 

“let us run wherever thee wants, you can take thou wherever you please, madam.”

“sorry shakespeare i want jaehyun back so i can talk to him about these cute fishies.” you frown.

“my bad that slipped out. i do that sometimes whenever my friend leehan talks about fish! i honestly wouldn’t be surprised if hes lurking around here somewhere..” he looked around suspiciously.

“you have some very interesting friends from what i’ve heard.” you think to yourself.

“don’t get any ideas or else you’ll hurt my feelings.” he purses his bottom lip.

“eww don’t do that in front of the fish, they’ll think you’re mocking them!” you point to a pink one swimming around, “look at this one! i think it’s crying.”

“underwater?”

“yes, underwater. you can tell it’s eyes are glossy.”

“..underwater?”

“i’m going to leave your ass in the dirt, jaehyun. let me live my teenage girl life looking at bright pink fish that i’m headcanoning with emotions.” 

“you are actually the cutest person ever.” he sighs, looking closely at whichever little straggler you were staring at.

“hh–” you look away from the tank, blushing at his sudden compliment.

“i like this one.” he points at an extremely puffy fish.

“aw, it looks like it just had a hardy meal. it’s puffing out its cheeks all big!” you gasp, leaning your face closer to the glass to get a better look.

“speaking of food, are you hungry at all?” he questions you.

“hmm, i’m not very hungry at the moment, but i can always eat! i might have to tucker myself out if i’m going to have a full meal though.”

“well.. they do have a game spot for all the little kids that we could totally go check out if you’re in for a challenge.” he mentioned.

“am i about to bust your ass in underwater themed dance dance revolution?” you bet.

“no, because it’s regular themed dance dance revolution, just with shark stickers all over it.” 

“don’t test me jae.”

“okay! okay, i sincerely apologize for my actions, i will admit to being the biggest loser on the planet.” he pats your back.

“the apology was a five out of ten, you need a ukelele and it might be slightly better.” you shrug, arm still intertwined with his.

you let him lead you to the supposed game area that he had his eyes on. it wasn’t the biggest attraction ever, since it was an aquarium, not an arcade, but there was still a decent amount to do. a couple of small children littered around playing games and sitting with their parents. taking a brief look around, it was mainly educational things to keep children engaged with underwater wild life

“you lied to me! they don’t even have ddr.” you complain.

“no, but they have frogger!”

“yeah, and a bunch of educational puzzles about stuff i already know.”

“okay then go and name every fish species in the ocean right this second.” he taps his foot impatiently.

“on second thought, educational puzzles are super fun!” you switch up, smiling unnaturally wide.

“see, don’t sleep on learning new information, y/n. that’s how you become wise like me.” he pokes at his temple.

“oh, right here?” you place your finger on his forehead as he nods, before you quickly flick your fingers against his skull.

“ow!”

“ah, i get it now. the more hollow it sounds the smarter you are. i must be a dumbass then.”

“ha ha very funny. we have an entire aquarium to explore! this place is for children like woonhak, i think they have exhibits where you can pet the fish? kind of like sea world i guess.” he rambles, yet keeps you intrigued.

“sounds like a better idea, let’s go look around.” you exclaim, grabbing onto his hand instead of intertwining arms. 

exploring the depths of the ocean, as jaehyun would say, was fun as well as stress inducing. running around hand in hand with him was always interesting, and there were so many different fishes to look at. putting it simply by saying you ‘had fun’ was a complete understatement.

you both often compared the fishes funny faces to people you knew, and jae was getting a kick out of it especially. even though woonhak wasn’t there, he was there in spirit with the hundreds of fish the two of you named after him to get a quick giggle. not only that, you poked fun at one another in the exact same way. a puffer fish a couple tanks down was named jaehyun, and it’s cute mate was named y/n.

catching glimpses of anything and everything, it had felt like you explored the entire building. though besides the funny moments you shared together, the atmosphere itself was romantic. jaehyun thought you looked prettiest under this lighting, when the darkness of the tunnel you were both in meant he could barely make out your facial features, but he just had the feeling in his gut you looked ethereal.

exchanging glances often, the blush never left one anothers cheeks. the day was coming to an end, something that you were dreading especially tonight. you attempted to forget about the decisions you’d have to make, and just bask in the warmth of being with him.

“i don’t want to leave yet.” he looked sad, swinging your arms back and forth.

“i have a curfew you know, but i don’t want to go either.” you reminded him.

“actually, i have an idea. come with me!” he leads you around the corner into a gift shop, where they have a large selection of merchandise to choose from.

“ooo, sea stuff!”

“pick out anything, and i’ll buy it for you.” he offers, pulling his wallet out of his pocket.

“oh my gosh, does this mean i’m your sugar baby?” you hinted, nudging him with your elbow.

“does that give me brownie points?”

“i’ll think about it.”

“then you can interpret my answer however you please.” he declared, “now pick out something, they have a lot of cute stuffed animals here.”

“this seal has been eyeing me since we came in here, i don’t know.. it looks pretty cute.” you pick up the fluffy creature and poke at its eyeballs.

“i don’t think it’s going to be able to eye you anymore after that one.” he gulped.

“even better. i choose this one!” you hold it in front of his face as he takes it from you.

“what if i told you i forgot my wallet and you actually have to buy it yourself?” he non discreetly hides his wallet behind his back.

“shucks! guess i have to nuke the planet, because i would die if you didn’t have your wallet.”

“you’re so dumb.” he laughs, taking the stuffed seal up to the register to pay.

“you’re the one that likes me though, so who’s losing here?” you retorted.

“not me! you’ll like me eventually, maybe? if i try hard enough.” he takes the receipt from the cashier and thanks them, handing you the stuffed animal.

“for starters, this seal might have.. sealed the deal.” you do a dramatic wink, following him back out to the car.

“i might have to sit back for that one..”

“stop it, don’t lie! it was kind of funny. i just came up with it on the spot.”

“y/n, get in the car and i’ll show you some real comedy.” he clicks the lock on his car, opening the door.

“is the joke where you kidnap me and tie me up, then it turns into one of those cop shows?” you ask, putting on your seatbelt.

“i don’t know, let’s find out!” he claimed.

the ride home was just as entertaining as the date, jaehyun constantly saying something he thinks it funny, just for you to not laugh as revenge. it went on like this for awhile, but you always gave into him. when the tone quiet down, and all you could hear is music playing from the aux, you got a chance to reminisce about the day you had.

jaehyun was a very genuine person, always sweet and able to joke about everything. it felt like you were able to connect with him very quickly. on top of that, he got you a cool stuffed seal to keep as a souvenir on your bed.

when you pulled back into your culdesac, you knew it was time to say goodbye and thank him for the day. after unbuckling yourself and collecting your bag on the floor, you give him a soft smile.

“it was a really lovely day today, thank you so much, jaehyun!” you thank him.

“of course, i had a lot of fun too.” he leaned an arm on the center console, almost admiring you as you thanked him.

“and thank you for the stuffed animal, i’m not sure what i want to name it yet. you should text me ideas!” you recommend.

“cute, i will definitely make sure to. you make sure to text me later too, okay?” his words almost stopped your world for a second, as the integrity of the situation was weighing on you once again.

“y– yes! yes i will. i’ll see you later, jae!” you hurry out of his car and wave him goodbye. as soon as he’s down the street, you sit yourself down on the curb to think for a second.

you had to choose between these two boys, and the weight was becoming extremely heavy on your shoulders. it felt almost impossible, but you swore that one of them pulled you in a little more than the other. all you needed was time to think.

woonhak planned a very wonderful date, and you had a lot of fun on it. jaehyun also planned a wonderful date, which was what conflicted you the most. was it the place they took you, or how it felt to spend time with each of them?

though your mind was still reeling, you scrambled around in your bag for your car keys with an idea in your head of where you wanted to go. just a fifteen minute drive and a phone call. that’s all you needed.

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RACE TO YOUR HEART series

[tm-trx]

Reset, ep 2

Live Reaction Thoughts

Standard warning: may will contain inconsistent punctuation/capitalization, talking to myself, talking to the characters, rampant speculation, and many many questions to self.

“always been by his side” hint towards the multiple timeline theory?

heh the posing

Has it been a full day and night or is Armin still drunk/roofied?

lol Tada didn’t expect that; excellent reaction

Armin’s just spouting future facts like it’s no big deal

love that we’re getting straight into it; Armin point blank asking for answers

but not getting any

“who are you really?” yeah who are you Tada??

Okay but how much of a problem will a kid with no managing experience be for a well-established rival company like Crown? If anything, he’ll make it easier for Crown because he's so green, unless his plan is straight up sabotage, which could be fun honestly.

aw Armin

wow, Pharit’s kind of a dick

ah that makes more sense; Armin's just barged into his shoot

How is something like this random encounter tv news worthy? (or that was an entertainment news channel)

ooooo someone else from the future is in play?? who’s Pharit talking to??

aw bummer it was just a dream

that’s right Armin, get a new contract from all of this mess; or not

pretty pretty shot; pretty pretty man

“a man and his assistant” humor is never not funny

also that guy's English is fantastic

all this drama over an audition

kinda leaning into farce territory here - tone shift is a little jarring

but the soy milk bit with Tada’s guys and Aunt Jeed was pretty funny “block the wind!”

Armin panicking over meeting Sam again though; here for that angst

and then Lily makes another bid to ruin Armin’s career ugh

More [Coherent] Thoughts

I think that opening scene has to be a writing fail or Armin wasn’t drugged at the party like it seemed. Because he woke up stone cold sober and it was still nighttime. So that part of the scene was weird. But the rest of it was excellent. Tada’s reaction when Armin dropped trou was perfect and made me laugh.

I was very confused about what Thiwthit’s game was initially, but I love how it ended up. Rival entertainment companies is a great plot setup. Fighting over actors, fighting over venues, press coverage, competing similar projects: so much conflict potential. I did expect that Armin would end up under Crown, and maybe that will happen later. But I really like what they’re doing with the contract stuff right now.

I was also wondering about Pharit and thought maybe that short scene with him was a clue about another time traveller using him for some reason, but I think it was just a filler scene. The person who gave him the newspaper sounded like the director who was doing the favor for Tada. So, he’s been brought into Armin’s life earlier, because Tada is trying to help in a more direct way than happened the first time.

If meeting Sam again threw Armin off this much, I cannot wait to see how meeting Charlie again goes.

I wonder how long they will leave the reveal that TD is Tada?

My Reset recaps: 1 /

[piglet26]

Rey Solo... Rey from Jakku.... Rey No one... anything but Rey Skywalker.

The Last Jedi simply revealed that Rey was a "nobody" – perhaps the most shocking and least expected outcome for the Rey lineage debate. It was a perfect twist in our heroine story despite people seeming desperate for her to be connected to some man already in the franchise.

Daisy Ridley has even expressed her frustration with the Rey’s lineage debate multiple times, “I love that Rey is such a great character, they’re like: ‘No, no, she has to be… she has to be-’She’s her own person! Let her be her guys, let her live."

Exactly! Why did people care so much? Maybe initially, it was fun to hypothesize. However, once the reveal came out people actually liked that she was fresh, a brand new start instead of just nostalgia, or, a way to continue on a males legacy. We have Ben Solo for that, or, at least we did.

More than a shocking twist created just to subvert expectations, the Rey “no one” reveal encapsulated The Last Jedi’s perfect message – anyone could be the hero of their own story.  Rey’s realization was that her heritage don’t matter ... all that matters is who she chooses to be now. Rey’s legacy didn't need to be defined by Luke or Leia, which would leave her free to start her own story - hell, Star Wars to have a future. On the other end was Ben/Kylo Ren, who did come from the mighty Skywalker family and hailed as the son of heroes and wanted to escape that legacy.

Then here comes JJ "Nostalgia Kind" Abrams and Chris Terrio. Terrio here “We also thought that Rey’s arc cannot be finished after Episode VIII. You can leave Episode VIII and say, “Well, now, Rey is content. She’s discovered her parents aren’t Skywalkers, or whatever, and that’s fine.” But so much of her personal story was about where she came from, what kept her on Jakku all those years and the trauma that shaped her. We see quite strongly in Episode VII that something mysterious and troubling happened to her. Although she did get some answers in Episode VIII, we didn’t feel that that story was over. We felt that there were still more questions in Rey’s head about where she came from and where she was going. So, that was the other big idea that we had to address in this film. Rian’s answer to, “What’s the worst news that Rey could receive?” was that she comes from junk traders, and that’s true. She does come from junk traders; we didn’t contradict that.” No, you just went back to what you wanted in the beginning.

By the end Rey takes on not only the Skywalker name but she looks over two suns which brings me to the point of this essay...... if Ben wasn't going to be there, then she should have taken last name. Rey Solo.

What's irritating about LucasFilm/Disney is their desire to appease everyone. I don't give a damn about the antis, nor should they. Reylos were a big support group for the films and mightily invested. TROS came off as trying to please everyone. If we really think about, with the exception of the end of Exegol, the Rey and Kylo interactions lacked depth and intimacy. Perhaps it's just not the style of JJ Abrams and Chris Terrio, who did support the pairing.

While I'm 100% convinced Reylo was planned, all the creators seemed very open to adjusting if it wasn't working. Hence why Finn and Poe were both open considerations, especially Finn. I don’t think Adam or Daisy intentionally played up any sexual tension in their scenes together to give us an impression about something in TFA.  I think it just happened.  Early bird Reylos picked up on it.  Some critics, including the one who wrote the TFA review for Time magazine, picked up on it. Rian Johnson picked up on it too and the rest is history.

Leia’s behavior's is odd for entire decades. Being a trained Jedi herself, she could have taught her son - instead she sent him to his uncle( Oh wait, that was a retcon). Han was either helping with the Resistance or off doing something shady. From the novels we learn that Ben heard his parents arguing and talking about him like he was a monster ever since he was a child, and that when he was sent away this seemed to confirm to him that something was wrong with him and had to be fixed. (From the novels we also learn that he actually had no ambition to become a Jedi and wanted to be a pilot - true Skywalker and also Solo that he is -, but he had no say in the matter.)

For both Ben and Rey, their journey is about letting go of childhood trauma and discovering their own independence. Ultimately it's about their pairing being both emotionally healing AND a balance in the force. They are a DYAD after all. I saw all this to say, he is her closest personal connection and impact through the 3 films. Leia is her master but we don't see that, it happened off camera.

Terrio says that the decision to have Rey take on the name “Skywalker” was a way to show that “you can choose your ancestry.” Which is not true and also a strange thing to say considering.

Which brings me to the correction of this tricky trail. Pay Adam Driver want he wants and reunite the dyad.

[ealvara7]

Watching the Tour Cast for the Very First Time!!! ✨

During a conversation in one of the Discord groups I'm in, one of my good friends shared with me a Beetlejuice Tour boot that included Jackera Davis as Lydia!

I'm still going to see the musical on May 22nd, but I thought this would be a really cool way for me to get better acquainted with how the Tour cast play their roles!

I'll leave my notes under a "read-more", so you can keep scrolling! Thanks for reading, regardless! ✨

-

Jackera's voice is beautiful... 💖

She doesn't linger on a lot of her notes, which gives off the impression that her Lydia is more angry about the situation she is currently facing. That's a nice take on her character!

-

Justin jumpscared me the first time I saw him! I've only ever heard his Beetlejuice voice on a couple of YouTube videos, so getting to see his face was such a surreal experience- (The initial silence when he pulls down the paper was depressing...)

I've actually noticed this on a couple of GIFs, but the area where the banjolele was thrown in The Whole "Being Dead" Thing was moved to the back! I'm not sure if this is consistent on all stages, but I imagine this was done in order to adapt to as many of them as they can!

Similarly, Sandy does not appear at the beginning in the Tour version. This I had been aware of for some time now-

-

In the Tour version, the house is hidden behind a curtain, which is something Beetlejuice mentions just before it opens.

In the boot I'm watching, Justin goes:

"It's a house!!!"

Then he does a little pose, which immediately knocked me out-

Also, I now see what people were talking about with the tongue thing Justin does... and now I can't unsee it-

-

Another Tour change that I had known for some time is the usage of electrical items for the Maitlands' death. Adam purchases an eletrical adapter, rather than Manchurian tung oil, in order to light up the new mobile connected to the crib. Some of the lyrics in Ready Set, Not Yet have also been changed to reflect this.

-

Jackera has to have my favorite characterization for Lydia so far!!!

I always imagine Lydia to be rather lively, like her cartoon counterpart, but still carrying the angst that she is going through in the musical, and Jackera does this! The only difference is that Jackera leans more on the angry side of Lydia, which gives her more of a punk teen vibe. I love it so much, and I feel like she plays off the rest of the cast so well!!! 💖

-

In Fright of their Lives, the chorus simply walk in rather than the set opening to reveal them. It's a little heartbreaking to see that change... but I get the idea at this point-

On a lighter note - Justin interacts with the chorus after they get interrupted and says:

"Sorry guys... I'll pay you for the full day-"

Once again, knocking me out-

-

Beetlejuice's mood ring hair... is not present in the Tour version. I had been very well aware of this for some time, but out of all the changes made to the Tour version... this one was the one that hurt me the most.

In my heart, Collettejuice most certainly has mood ring hair, even if it's not visually presented on stage.

Speaking of Collettejuice... I've notice a ton of little things that make him distinct from other Beetlejuices. For example, he is very fidgety and fast - he usually apologizes more than once when it comes to a situation that he's in. He also appears to be more disconnected when it comes to his emotions - rather than being sad, he likes to make fun of his own misery. He'll also get really angry when things don't go his way.

-

During Say My Name, Jackera's Lydia is just absolutely not having it with Beetlejuice. Instead, she is very quick to turn down his offer and simply stands her ground.

Also, when the Maitlands appear, Colletejuice is just visually bitter and upset towards them??? Oh my god???

It makes his "old pals" statement feel more condescending, which is a very nice twist from other Beetlejuices, who usually look happy to see them!

-

I find it kind of adorable that at the beginning of Act 2, Jackera's Lydia is much happier with Beetlejuice, but still not entirely sure about all the little quirks he does. It's like when you're getting better acquainted with a new friend, which is exactly what is happening here.

-

I love how Collettejuice is just absolutely embarrassed by his plan to have Lydia marry him. Like, it's the only option he has, but if he had it his way... he absolutely would not be doing that.

"If you wanna save Barbara, I need you... to marry me!"

"WHAT?!"

"..."

"It's a green card thing... guys..."

-

There are a couple of instrumental additions in the Tour version, but easily my most favorite has to be the violin addition in Home.

It's slow... and sad... and somber... It fits with the rest of the song perfectly, and I can no longer imagine the song without it.

Jackera also did a fantastic job with this song! Home requires a ton of strength when it comes to hitting certain notes, and she pulls it off perfectly! I'm so glad I got to hear her sing! 💖

-

In the Life or Death scene, the wheel has been replaced with stocks. Before Otho dies, he is carried off stage by two skeletons.

Beetlejuice's game show outfit in the Tour has the same yellow blazer. However, the outfit is now green at the top, and blue at the middle and bottom.

I... am personally not a fan of this design choice. I feel like having all blue in contrast with the yellow works wonderfully to create a bold look. Adding green at the top makes the outfit blend in a bit... and that just doesn't work for me.

That being said... I adore the addition of the lapel pin on Beetlejuice's wedding blazer! I'm a huge sucker for Beetlejuice wearing a rose or any other kind of flower on his lapel-

-

I feel like I've said everything that I have to say for this boot, except for one more thing...

Justin's wonderful addition to the last "This guy knows what I'm talking about!" will never stop making me go crazy whenever I hear it.

"Look, I only joke because I see myself in you... later tonight."

[angel-lopes2000]

Hi. If it's not a problem could i get brick teaching Carrie how to swim since her mom never thought her that? Im sure it would be fun

Beach Time - Now you're gonna do the swim.

Bedroom. Carrie was asleep tenderly, wrapped around those warm blankets and holding the pillow to enjoy the softness from those cottons inside the fabric, the blonde girl was so sleepy that Brick even felt sorry to wake but it was time and he wanted to take her for the beach. The brunet tried to wake her slowly by shaking her shoulders.

"Carrie.. Carrie, love... Wake up.." He whispered on her ear. The blonde frowns and mutters, rolling over onto her right side.

"Oh daddy. Just some few seconds...'' He giggled silently "Poor little creature.. And hey! I'm not that older that like this. ''Daddy''?? You silly one.''

"Honey, get up..." Approaching his nose against close her ear, the boy smiled, sharing little kisses, making the girl to blushing and grinning from those affections. The blonde finally opened the eyes and sat, stretching during the yawning.

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty!" He rub his nose against hers and kissed her lips. Carrie giggled and shared back the tender kiss. "Good morning, Bricky."

"Did you sleep well?" He caressed her cheek, sliding two fingers delicately.

"Aaah… I've never had such wonderful nights before. Just having you in my arms is everything to me." She confirmed, resting her head under her pillow-like arms. Happy with his lover's affirmation, Brick holds her with his hands on her hips and kisses her romantically, with Carrie putting her hands on his cheeks.

"So, would you like to go the beach with me? I can teach you how to swim.'' The couple stare at each other as the boy slides his fingers across the girl's cheeks.

"That sounds like fun." She smiles sweetly.

"Great!" Exclaimed the excited boy, who held the girl on his lap and they prepared to leave the house. After organizing all the preparations and wearing all the bathing suits under their normal clothes, as well as bringing a few extras. A few hours into the trip, Carrie was reading some magazines and gossiping with Brick about the things that happened to celebrities while the boy kept laughing at the silly and absurd situations the interviewers talked about.

"Here we are, honey!" When they arrived, the beach was quiet but there was a considerable movement of people around. Civilians chatting, eating ice cream, playing any kind of sport or just enjoying the sun. The atmosphere was as familiar and relaxing as the waves that lapped gently against the endless grains of sand.

At first, Carrie was startled to come across several girls wearing slightly more revealing bikinis and felt a little embarrassed to reveal her swimsuit, preferring to cover up with a large shirt that had previously belonged to Brick. As for the boy, he simply loved feeling the stratospheric rays coming into contact with the pores of his skin. And so, the couple set about enjoying the beach weather, with Brick finishing with parasol umbrella and the girl sitting down over the blanket to read a book while probably having an ice cream.

But this was a far cry from Brick's original plans, as he wanted to teach his beloved how to swim and was as excited as a child at an amusement park.

Of course, first of all, the couple protects themselves with sunscreen. When it was Brick's turn, the brunet made sure to take care, massaging both the back and arms and legs of his beloved's delicate body.

"That feels so good…" She commented as she rested from all those protective touches, but this was interrupted when the excited Brick asked her about swimming in the sea with him. At first, Carrie seemed a little insecure about never having learned in her life. But concerned about the boy's joy, the blonde swallowed her fear and got into the water with him.

At first, Carrie and Brick played of ''tag, you're it'' and splashed water at each other, like two grown-up children. Initially, Brick taught them to hold their breath for a few seconds to learn how to dive, Carrie didn't struggle. But that changed the moment Brick taught her about flapping her feet while moving her arms. The waves, which had been peaceful, began to crash more aggressively, making it almost impossible to stay upright.

"Bricky, help! I'm going to drown!" Brick swam as fast as he could to rescue the girl's body in time. Scared to death, the blonde ended up drowning and fainting because she couldn't hold the water in her body.

Holding the girl's body tightly, Brick wrapped her in his arms and swam quickly back to the sand. First, the boy pressed his wrists together to make the girl's heart beat normally, he did this after remembering that he had to do it to the rhythm of Bee Gees' Stayin' Alive. After a lot of concentration, Carrie began to spit out all the remaining water and finally, he held her nose and gave the blonde a mouth-to-mouth breath that lasted for a few more minutes. Thanks to this, Carrie proceeded to vomit all the salt water onto the sand.

"Are you okay, my love?'' He asked her, gently resting his hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry, love. I didn't mean for you to get hurt." The boy said, still feeling a little remorseful about having been so excited about the idea that he didn't think about the risk of his beloved ending up drowning. As comfort, Carrie forgives him with a kiss on the cheek and a loving hug. And later, Carrie and Brick found themselves among the surface, building some castles while still enjoying some ice cream.

The End.

[brilliantorinsane]

YEAH I just finished Sign of Four and I've been turning all of this over in my head. I was very struck by the first chapter, and how readily it can be read as, for Watson, a death knell in which he gets (what seems to him) final evidence that Holmes will not be returning any romantic affections.

And the opening paragraph of Scandal is so fascinating because ... yes it's fun to poke fun at adaptations shoving Holmes and Adler together when 'Watson specifically said Holmes wasn't in love with Irene', but I clearly remember picking up Scandal for the first time, reading that paragraph, and going 'oh shit, was tumblr wrong? Is Holmes in love with her?' Tumblr wasn't wrong and he is not, but I agree with you that the opening paragraph absolutely leaves the possibility open; even primes you to expect it.

So it's all the more surprising when Watson goes on to tell a story in which Holmes and Irene barely speak, and Holmes has a delightful time attending her wedding. There's just enough ambiguity right at the end to leave the door open to Watson's initial musings, and I can even put myself to some degree in the minds of the readers who conclude Holmes was in love with Adler: if you view Watson as an objective relayer of facts about Holmes, why would the story open with that paragraph if not to set up a romance?

But if you approach Watson as a character in his own right, I think the paragraph reveals a whole lot more about Watson's preoccupations than about Holmes. It's riddled with confusion, contradictions both internal and to the way he writes Holmes in previous stories, and scrabbles at scant clues for an understanding of Holmes' relationship to romance.

It's all the more striking to read immediately after The Sign of Four, which in publishing order and chronology immediately precedes this, and throughout which romance is a continual source of discussion and contention between them.

I'm still turning thoughts around in my head, but the short version is, however you read Holmes and Watson's relationship (and there are many valid ways to do so) the early stories in particular are preoccupied with romance in context of it. And whatever the nature of their bond, it rests uneasily alongside—indeed is actively threatened by—traditional heteronormative social structures.

I'm rereading Scandal in Bohemia (for Shy Ballerina purposes), and I'd forgotten this was the story that begins with Watson's marriage having come between them so severely that Watson describes Holmes as his "former friend and companion", and the no doubt unrelated fact that so many of the examples of Holmes insisting Watson stays for a case occur in quick succession at the start of this story. I mean:

"By-the-way, since you are interested in these little problems, and since you are good enough to chronicle one or two of my trifling experiences, you may be interested in this ... Read it aloud." "There’s money in this case, Watson, if there is nothing else.” “Not a bit, Doctor. Stay where you are. I am lost without my Boswell. And this promises to be interesting. It would be a pity to miss it.” “Never mind him. I may want your help, and so may he. Here he comes. Sit down in that armchair, Doctor, and give us your best attention.��� I rose to go, but Holmes caught me by the wrist and pushed me back into my chair. “It is both, or none,” said he.

It is. Rather a lot. To the point that it would be heartbreaking, if it wasn't kind of funny. And hilarious, if it wasn't so sad.

[littlemisspascal]

Getting Lost is Being Found

pairing: joel x female reader

rating: M. 18+ only.

word count: 5.4k

summary:

When you finally brought yourself to open your mouth, it wasn’t a question that came out. It was a fact, simple and blunt. “You’re one of them.”

“I am,” he replied, the sun still emblazoning him in radiant light. Almost made it hurt to look at him. “But I never wanted to be a human again until I saw you.”

warnings: black dog/hellhound au with hints of a bigger plot that I'm too tired to dive into. reader is referenced as smaller + younger than Joel. alpha/omega dynamics. slices of life. time jumps. non-descriptive smut. fast burn/love at first sight. biting. blood. rough handling. language. non-major character death(s). thunderstorms. reference of reader's parents. nudity. sneaking in a CoD reference cuz why not

note: Trying to remember how to write for the fun of it. This is the result *awkwardly throws out into the universe*

i.

You stand on your bedroom’s balcony, concrete tiles cold beneath your bare feet. Your eyes look towards the horizon, fingers tightening around the wrought iron railing.

A storm brews. The sun is swiftly retreating behind the distant hills, leaving the city dark and cold in its wake. Electricity taints the air, the hair on the back of your neck prickling -

And then you hear it, harmonizing with the thunder’s rumblings, the ghastly howls of the Black Dogs chasing down the scent of their prey.

ii.

Nightspyre, for all its blackouts and seediness, isn’t the worst place to call home. Not when you’re collared and marked by an Alpha, not when your Alpha has stared Death in the eye and made Her flinch. Not when retaliation for every spilt drop of innocent blood emerges each sundown in the guise of hulking shadows and gleaming red eyes.

The collar had been your request. An old-fashioned tradition dating back centuries, replaced in recent years by sharper, more permanent means of securing a mate. Your mother, rest her soul, had treated her collar as her most prized possession every moment of her short life. Red velvet with a gold tag inscribed with your father’s name. Gone are the days Omegas gathered and gossiped over the patterns and colors adorning their necks. Bitemarks are the present trend, judged and compared by the size, placement, and number of teeth.

They’re advertised as the ultimate display of devotion. A lifelong promise between an Alpha and their chosen mate. A claim warning off others from sniffing too closely. Simply put: a marked Omega is a loved Omega. 

But you learned the hard way when people saw your mark, they didn't see love. They saw something cruel. Something monstrous.

Only when you began wearing a collar you'd fallen in love with after seeing it in the window of a thrift store, adorned with faint golden moons and stars, did the concerned looks and judgmental whispers gradually stop. Convinced them maybe your Alpha wasn't so heartless as they initially believed.

After all, everyone knows monsters don't know how to be gentle. It goes against their very nature. Everything they touch dies an agonizing death.

iii.

“Do you think it’s possible? To know someone your whole life and also know nothing about them at all?” you ask, fingertips tracing the jagged edges of the bite beneath the curve of your collarbone. It’s a hideous thing made in a frenzied moment of raw need, consequentially stained your favorite sheets irredeemably scarlet. 

Your Alpha looks up from where he’d been dragging his tongue over the knob of your hip bone, replying, “Of course.” He moves to hover over you, bracketing your head with his arms, fogging your senses with his distinct scent of petrichor and woodsmoke. “As long as lies exist, no one’s ever truly known. Just pieces of ‘em.”

“Pieces, huh?” You touch his face now, thumb lifting his upper lip in the semblance of a snarl, revealing a glimpse of too-sharp teeth. “I wouldn’t mind collecting more of yours, Jo–”

A warning nip to your hand, blood hot under the surface. “Careful what you wish for.”

iv.

Lightning bathes the living room in a flash of white. Outside the city is wet and dismal, but here, inside, it’s flickering candlelight, and your Alpha is pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, body more shadow than flesh, and you close your eyes, allowing yourself a moment to pretend the hand on your cheek has fingers instead of claws.

v.

Three years ago you first saw Joel during one of the worst storms in Nightspyre’s long history. You’d been new to the city after finishing your degree and securing a job there, still a rookie navigator of its maze of cobblestone streets and alleyways. The weather was a fickle tormentor, you quickly learned, swapping between dry heat and violent downpour seemingly at whim. You’d entered a restaurant for a late supper in cloudless twilight, and exited an hour later to bone-chilling rain hurtling down from a pitch black sky. And it had been a miserable discovery for you to make whilst shivering beneath the front entry of an abandoned church, paint-chipped with boarded up windows, that absolutely nothing looked familiar in the rain. For all you knew, you’d tripped and stumbled into a completely different world.

A lightning bolt streaked across the sky, your eyes following its descent from the heavens, and that was when you first saw it. A black dog prowling amongst the faded and cracked tombstones, tail unnaturally stiff, seeming completely indifferent to the pouring rain—and ‘dog’ seemed like an insulting descriptive at the time, too small and domestic for the behemoth canine, but calling it a wolf didn’t settle right with you either. It was…it was…

It was staring right at you now, crimson eyes cutting across the distance and the darkness like searchlights. You froze, heart lodged in your throat, and it was such a bizarre thing, to be in the presence of something as simultaneously terrifying as it was so eerily beautiful. And the longer you stared, the more convinced you became that this was no ordinary creature. There was a dreamlike quality to its appearance, blurry around the edges, like it could change shapes at any second. 

Fuck, maybe you had tripped into a completely different world.

Another bolt of lightning bathed the cemetery yard in white light, the dog’s figure caught in the flash. Its black fur was thick around its neck, adding further bulk to its already broad body, and completely dry all over despite the puddle forming at its paws. You heard the uptick of your rampant heartbeat. Instinct screamed at you to run, but something else made you stay. A conviction you both were meant to share this moment together.

And it scared you how much that belief didn’t scare you.

Darkness swallowed the light again, taking the red eyes with it. You remember how you’d stood there until the clouds changed from black to gray, rain losing some of its vicious sting upon striking your skin, and you’d returned home in a numbed state of exhaustion and confusion. In the days that followed, you didn’t get sick from the incident, not even so much as a sniffle, adding another layer of oddness to the whole ordeal. And that dog…you couldn’t shake it from your mind. 

You wanted to know more about it. Any and every last scrap of detail you could find.

vi.

Welcome back! Your recent internet searches:

black dog breeds

massive black dogs with red eyes

black dog folklore

hellhounds

People also searched for:

fairy hounds

perro negro

okuri-inu

the hound of the baskervilles

dogs in folklore, religion and mythology

vii.

“You realize how ridiculous you sound, right?” Abe told you, wiping at his glasses with a cloth, a nervous twitch in his fingers. “The Black Dogs are a silly legend to scare children. Anyone who says they’re real is selling something.”

“I’ll tell Professor Ratna you said that,” you replied with a smirk.

Your quest for answers revealed everyone had an opinion one way or the other on the topic of massive red-eyed, dark-furred canines. Most thought they were myths limited to the boundaries of their pages in books or the online web. A few though, spoke in hushed murmurs, casting around wary glances, as if afraid of accidentally summoning one from the depths of the earth. Others talked with booming voices and gesticulating hands, telling you everything you wanted to hear like they’d been waiting for this conversation their whole lives. 

One homeless drunkard who dwelled in the alleyway next to 57th Street Tavern explained through slurred words, “I’ve seen ‘em, twice I have. They’re big brutes, shaking the ground when they walk. But–but they leave nothing behind. No tracks. Scary fuckers, they are. And they know it–they feast off fear, then they feast on flesh.”

You asked him how he’d lived through the close encounters unscathed and he shrugged off the question. “I ain’t never hurt nobody. The folks they hunt down, they’re already going to hell. The Dogs just bring ‘em there faster.”

You’d visited Professor Ratna next, catching the older woman in-between classes during her lunch break. She’d politely entertained your inquiry rather than outright scoff at it as the rest of the university faculty had done. “My specialty is mycology, not folklore, so I am no expert on the subject,” she said, taking a sip of tea. “That being said, I’d urge you to be cautious if you’re going to continue going around asking these questions. Few things happen in this city the Dogs don’t know about.”

“Makes it sound like they’re keeping the city hostage.”

She set down her teacup and looked you straight in the eye. “No, my dear. They are what keeps the city safe.”

You had left her office even more unsure of your own convictions than you’d felt when you arrived.

“Well, if you’re ever unlucky enough to come across one, run the other way as fast as you can,” Abe said, hesitantly looking up to meet your gaze. “Don’t even think about trying to pet it.”

The thought honestly hadn’t crossed your mind until then. It sounded like the quickest surefire way to lose a hand, perhaps even the whole limb. But if you had taken the chance at the church, you couldn’t help but what would the pelt have felt like –

Thick, dense fur like other canines? Or deceptively smooth and oily like a serpent’s scales?

(The answer, as it turns out, is a curious mix of both.)

viii.

The next day, a man knocked on your front door. He was tall, body thick with muscle and marked with smatterings of freckles and–oh. Your gaze stopped on his abdomen, refusing to dip any lower as realization turned your brain to mush. 

He wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothing. Nude as the day he was born.

He wasn’t saying anything either, brown eyes sweeping over your face like he was trying to memorize every detail. In another setting, preferably one without nakedness, perhaps over a candlelit dinner, you would have been flattered by the attention but as it was –

Pressing closer against the safety of the door, you took a tentative sniff of the air. His Alpha scent knocked into you like a tidal wave, barely stifling a reflexive whine in your throat. He smelled like thunderstorms, electric and pungent, like wet grass and ozone all blended together. And something else beneath the surface, something distinctly fiery. Smoky. God, you wanted to drown in that scent.

But first things first –

“What the hell are you doing here?”

The Alpha’s nostrils flared, followed by a low rumble from the depths of his chest that had your grip on the door tightening to keep you from doing something embarrassing  (shamelessly flinging yourself at him came to mind). “I followed your scent. Mint and vanilla.” Another inhale, deeper this time, eyes darkening. “Sassafras.”

His voice was hoarse, grating. Sounded like he hadn’t used it in months, maybe even years.

Your thoughts deserted you again, leaving you to dumbly stare at him for a moment. “Um.”

You’d dated a couple Alphas in the past, nothing that ever developed seriously and that was mostly due to the fact they all didn’t like your scent. Scent-compatibility was an essential factor when it came to bonding–after all, you’d be smelling that scent for the rest of your lives together so it was better to be a pleasing one. One described it as boring, another said it was too clean. Whatever that meant.

But this Alpha—this strange, heavenly-smelling, unfairly attractive man liked your scent enough he followed it all the way to your front door. 

“I–uh,” you blinked once, twice, slowly rebooting your brain, “what was your name again?”

The question had a curious effect on the man, emotions rippling across his face, one after the other, looking lost, but only for an instant, before he swallowed thickly, throat bobbing in a distracting manner.

“It’s Joel.” The corner of his mouth dipped. “I think.”

“You think?” you echoed, eyebrows raising. Who didn’t know their own name?

He lapsed back into silence, but there was a defensive edge to it that wasn’t there before. 

You exhaled a quiet breath and gave him a scrutinizing look, gaze dragging all the way from his head to his dirty bare feet and back up again without pausing on any…intimate areas. You wished you could peel back his layers, cut straight through the weird aura and iron defenses and find out what was there at his center that he’d hidden away.

It must be something incredibly precious, you thought. 

Or something shockingly hideous.

“Tell me, Joel,” you crossed your arms to hide your trembling hands, “have we met before?”

The Alpha tilted his head, midafternoon sunlight turning the dark of his eyes into liquid gold. He swallowed again, then quietly admitted, “Once. A couple nights ago…”

You found yourself leaning closer. He didn’t move away. You could almost taste the rain, the howling wind, the thunderclaps, the lightning, everything wild clinging to his skin. 

“Are you–” You cut yourself off, glancing away. You worried your bottom lip for a moment, hesitant to release the words burning on your tongue, scared of their potentially devastating influence. 

“You’ve been asking an awful lot of questions around town, Sass,” Joel said, soft as a caress. “Haven’t you figured it out by now?”

And that – well, that just about confirmed every last suspicion you had.

When you finally brought yourself to open your mouth, it wasn’t a question that came out. It was a fact, simple and blunt. “You’re one of them.”

“I am,” he replied, the sun still emblazoning him in radiant light. Almost made it hurt to look at him. “But I never wanted to be a human again until I saw you.”

ix.

“Any regrets, Sass?” Joel asks in the midnight hours.

“Hmm?” You curl closer, ear pressed against the steady thrum of his heartbeat.

“If you’d known it’d be like this,” he whispers into your hair. “Would you have run away if you had the chance?”

“Maybe,” you say, and you feel more than see the sudden tension roll through his body, shielding himself from the hurt. “But I would’ve found my way back sooner or later. I’d miss you too much.”

Joel says nothing, doesn’t have to. The way he presses you into the mattress, moves inside you, against you, with roaming hands and searing kisses, becoming one — speaks volumes more than words could ever convey.  

x.

The south side of Nightspyre is a haven for smugglers and thugs, consisting of multiple rows of derelict warehouses and an understaffed police presence, half concealed in the smog produced by the factory district. The streets are sticky with unknown substances beneath your shoes, each breath burning the inside of your nose.

“Gets prettier every time I visit,” Tess says wryly, standing next to you and looking at a spray-painted dick on the side of a dumpster.

You shoot your friend an amused look. Her brown hair’s half-up in a bun, she’s tough as nails, and carries at least four concealed weapons on her person at any given point. Female Alphas aren’t a common sight in the city, but Tess’ intimidating presence fends off the inappropriate comments, striking fear into the hearts of even the biggest Alphas with one icy glare. She’s the perfect ally to have by your side.

“Let’s just grab Joel and get out of here.” You pick up the pace. Your eyes note the different colored ribbons hanging from the overhead telephone wires. Each represents an illegal activity, whether it be gambling or drugs. If one knows their code, these ribbons act as a map of the district.  

Tess holds a hand up, stopping at a crossroads. You watch as she looks to the left, center, and right, then up at the ribbons–red, orange, and black respectively. The code regularly changes depending on the month or weather or local events, memorized by those who frequently visit the area, but there is one warning that will never be made different.

“Beware the path marked by the ribbon dyed black,” you recite quietly. “For if you follow it, you’ll surely become the next meal of the pack.”

“Sure you don’t wanna grab a drink instead?” Tess asks, jerking a thumb in the direction of the orange ribbon. 

You say nothing, adjusting the shoulder strap of your bag, and turn right – trusting that your friend will follow close behind, watching your back as she always has since you first met.

xi.

It's a wonder that there's enough of the body left to investigate, you think, crouching behind a car that smells overwhelming of weed and watching a group of men in police uniforms toss around ideas about who or what killed the dismembered and burnt corpse.

Deaths like this, they're how the myth of the Black Dogs continues to circulate and gain credence amongst the locals. The police, on the other hand, refuse to acknowledge them or the black ribbons pointing the way. They'll claim any other excuse under the sun - rabid wildlife, homicidal rage fueled by drugs or alcohol, deranged serial killers, hell even lightning strikes - but to openly admit beasts of folklore are responsible for the high fatality rate? Not a fucking chance.

They've tried setting traps a few times, reassuring folks they'll catch whatever savage thing is responsible for making the streets run red with blood. "Don't worry," they always say. "We have everything under control."

It’s you who should be worried, you want to retort, images flickering through your mind of sharpened teeth and paws the size of tires. Only a fool attempts to catch a hurricane in a glass jar. 

xii.

It’s another forty-five minutes before you find him.

You slide down a steep slope of dead grass, fresh mud from last night’s storm painting the sides of your pants, seeping into your shoes, almost dragging you face-first into the brown sludge of Pickett’s River if not for Tess’ fast reflexes. Eyes on the culvert pipe, you grit your teeth, remind yourself why you’re here, and step forward into the mess of sewage and soil and rainwater. Disgust is immediate, soaked above your knees, but you force yourself to take another step and another and another until you reach the large, ebony mass lying at the culvert’s gaping mouth, black mist emanating from his heaving flank.

“There you are,” you murmur, dropping to your knees near the muzzy outline of his head. Triangular ears twitch before they are concealed in a haze of shadow again. Your heart sinks, forcing a bit of levity into your tone. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this, yeah? Our backyard is a helluva lot nicer than this shithole.”

“I’ll build a doghouse for him myself if it’ll save me from getting dragged outta bed at this ungodly hour,” Tess offers from somewhere behind you.

She’s smart enough to stay back, especially when the sound of her voice has eyes snapping open in a blaze of red, immediately narrowing into smoldering slits, lips curling back from bloodstained teeth, snarling in challenge. 

“None of that,” you scold, followed by a bop against his nose with your finger. He stills, some of the feral luster clearing from his eyes. His body remains primed to fight, muscles coiled, lingering side effects from last night’s hunt. “It’s over. It’s a new day.” A hot breath of air wafts over your face, flooding your nostrils with a concoction of coppery blood, damp earth, and sulfur. “Fucking hell, that’s awful. You, Alpha mine, need a toothbrush. No, scratch that, you need to gargle bleach to get that nastiness out of your mouth. Ugh.”

Joel shoves his head forward, rumbling a deep, guttural note as his wet nose pressed against the vulnerable tendon of your throat, a hint of teeth grazing your pulse. If not for the bitemark under your shirt and the history of early mornings identical to this one spanning across the course of your relationship, perhaps you might have screamed or fainted in fright. Given the circumstances though, you merely tilt your head back further, allowing him to drink his fill of your scent until he remembers.

He had explained once, his human memories were like sand in this form, his mind an hourglass torn between two lives. Your scent triggers the reset, tipping everything right side up again, memories falling back into place until the next hunt steals them back again.

You know when it clicks because Joel’s breath hitches, a violent shudder rippling along his spine. It’s always agonizing, watching him transform, listening to the grinding and splintering of bones and sinew realigning themselves. The cloud of obsidian mist begins to lighten, the once ambiguous outline of a colossal beast slowly, so painstakingly slowly merging into a man – naked, trembling from the aftershocks, clinging to consciousness by his own stubborn will. 

Brown eyes meet yours, blood smeared across his mouth and beard. “Sass,” he says, a dry rasp sending a wave of warmth all the way down to your frozen and wet toes. “Aren’t you getting tired of coming after me yet?”

“Nah,” you shake your head, smiling. “I think it’s good for our relationship. Keeps things interesting.”

He snorts. “Interesting. Sure, that’s a word for it. How many times’ it been this week? Two, three?”

“Four,” Tess chimes in, punctuated by a pair of jeans striking Joel square in the face.

“Mornin’ Tess,” is the low, sheepish response from your Alpha. He pulls the pants off his head, hair ruffled every which way. “Didn’t see you there. Is that a new haircut? It’s nice. Suits you.”

Your friend hums, unimpressed. She used to think you were cute together, that the twang of his accent was amusing, but after eight months of accompanying you in retrieving his naked ass from various sordid and revolting sites around Nightspyre she’s become immune to his charms.

You pull out a shirt and shoes from your own bag. “We’ve gotta get a move on. Police already think you’re strange. Don’t need to give ‘em another reason to dislike you.”

“Four hunts in one week,” Joel mutters under his breath as he begins dressing, a disturbed look in his eye, and you hear what he isn’t saying, unspoken words weighing heavily upon your chest like individual stones.

Four more damned souls.

xiii.

Sometimes you can’t find him the morning after a hunt, losing him amongst the creeping shadows, and you’re forced to wait, anxious and helpless, until there’s another storm, another hunt, another death to reunite with him. 

Those times, the house feels too empty and your bitemark aches something fierce, a brand seared against your skin. Nightmares plague your sleep until your sheets are a tangle of sweat and tears. The cloudless blue skies and starry nights are further personal insults, mocking your heartache.

xiv.

It’s a tricky concept to wrap your head around, the idea that Joel had once been a human decades, perhaps centuries ago. Time isn’t something Black Dogs keep track of and Nightspyre’s historical archives are in the city hall’s basement which floods every other rainfall. He’s older than you, that’s something you can confidently say. Less confidently you can guesstimate he was probably in his late thirties when he was turned.

Your first year together you tried to piece together his story, pestering him with whatever question crossed your mind. Were you born here? What were your parents like? Any siblings? Hobbies? Your attempts proved mostly unrewarding though - his memories of that life are few and flimsy, giving him a headache if he thinks about them too long - and by now you’ve learned he prefers to make new memories than dwell in the past.

The day he knocked on your door becomes his birthday. He turns forty and who gives a fuck if it’s accurate or not, certainly not either of you. You celebrate with cake and ice cream topped with hot fudge.

“My mother used to make cake like this,” Joel says after swallowing a bite. You look at him, your own spoon hovering in front of your mouth, ice cream threatening to melt, but his eyes are glossed over, lost in a memory, and you can’t bring yourself to move, scared of disrupting the moment. “She added chocolate chips in it. Made it sweeter. She’d let me lick the batter from the spoon.”

An image of a young Joel forms unbiddenly in your mind. You can imagine him hovering at his mother’s side, waiting patiently as she scoops and pours and mixes the ingredients, how wide he’d grin when he finally got his prize, smearing chocolatey goodness across his mouth.

“Your ice cream’s melting,” Joel’s voice yanks you back to the present.

You blink a few times, reconciling the child in your head with the Alpha in front of you, then look down at your spoon where, sure enough, the ice cream’s more of a liquid than a solid, blending with the cake and fudge in a gooey swirl. You stick it in your mouth, not really tasting, not really thinking except -

Next year you’ll remember to buy chocolate chips.

xv.

A horde of ominously gray clouds accumulates on the horizon, blotting out the sun. Standing together on the balcony, Joel drapes himself over your backside, chin on your shoulder, both your gazes locked ahead.

“Death is becoming greedy,” you say, mouth coated in bitter venom. You don’t care if She overhears, so long as you carry his mark you’re untouchable. Not even Her powers can disentwine your souls. Where one goes, the other will follow - and she needs Joel too much at the moment to let him go just yet.

“It’s not Her. There’s something else poisoning the city, rotting it from the inside out…” Joel trails off, interrupted by the first drizzling drops of rain, the distant clap of thunder summoning his alternate form to the surface. His fingers flex against your waist, forcibly swallowing down the growl building in his chest with an audible gulp.

“I’ll see you in the morning.”

You don’t say tomorrow morning. Not anymore. It’s too specific, too painful when it doesn’t come true.

“See you in the morning,” he echoes, and gently turns your head, sealing the vow with a kiss. It’s chaste, sweet, foreheads coming to rest against each other, savoring the moment even as the rain pelts your skin and clothes. “Go on, get inside and get warmed up. And no matter what you hear—”

“Don’t go outdoors,” you finish, pressing one last kiss against his jaw. 

xvi.

Joel starts to age again. It’s a slow, gradual process for his body to remember what it means to be human. He still heals unnaturally fast, still answers Death’s call whenever there’s a soul to collect, but - 

There are flecks of gray peppered in his beard. Along his temples. They turn silver when the light hits them just right. Never once does he make an effort to shave them off or dye them. 

He needs glasses when he reads. It shouldn’t be possible yet somehow the dark frames make him look even hotter, especially late at night when they’re perched on the brim of his nose as those perfect lips silently mouth along with the words of whatever genre-of-the-week has snagged his attention.

“Doesn’t it bother you?” you ask abruptly one morning. Joel’s in the middle of peeling oranges, making an attempt at adding more fruit to both your diets, and the kitchen air is oversaturated with citrus. “Dying?”

His hands pause, pensive lines creasing his forehead. It’s a sign he’s thinking hard about his answer, giving it the necessary time to form and develop. You wait, perched on the kitchen stool, pushing your toes against the floor to keep your leg from bouncing anxiously.

“I already died once, remember? This,” he says, gesturing towards his gray hairs and then at the house as a whole. “This isn’t dying, Sass. Not for me.”

You lean forward with your arms upon the counter. “What is it for you then?”

He looks at you for a long second, soft and fond, and smiles. “This is me finally living.”

xvii.

Loving Joel is easy, you learn. As natural as waking up with the morning sun, as necessary as drawing breath into the depths of your lungs. You don’t believe much in fate or destiny, but there are moments where he looks at you, like he can’t believe you’re the one who's real, and it feels like it’s always supposed to have been you and him. 

“Of all the churches in all the world,” you quietly laugh under your breath one night, head resting on his stomach. 

His hand stills in the middle of stroking a warm line down your spine. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” you shift just enough to press a kiss against his sternum, smiling to yourself at the hitch of his breath. “Just thinking how lucky I am.”

Joel’s hand continues its movements again, but this time when it goes back up it carries on past your shoulder, pads of his fingers dipping into the teeth indentation marks there. 

And you know he’s thinking the same.

xviii.

Joel’s sliding home inside of you, all scorching heat and possessive growls, face buried against your neck. You wrap your arms tighter around his shoulders, nails cutting scratches deep into his skin, drawing blood. They’ll be gone before he’s done with you. Damn healing factor, a blessing and a curse.

“I want to be like you,” you murmur carelessly against the hinge of his jaw, mouthing a kiss that’s more tongue than lips.

“No,” Joel grunts, and then he’s moving back, pulling out of you. You whine, a pathetic and desperate high-pitched plea of an Omega trying to appease her Alpha, to call him back to fill the emptiness threatening to devour you alive. He ignores it, grabbing at your face with a large hand, forcing you to look at him, really look and fuck, you’ve never seen him like this before.

That emotion in his eyes, dark and gleaming and intense – it’s fear.

“You don’t want to be like me, Sass. You can never be like me,” Joel says, and he doesn’t even try to mask the tremble in his voice. “I won’t allow it.”

You reach a hand up, purposefully slow and obvious in its approach, and curl your fingers around his wrist. He loosens his hold instantly, exhaling a ragged, shuddering breath like you’ve stabbed him.

“Okay,” you say, and that’s all.

His face is wet when it buries against your neck again.

xix.

There’s a secluded house on the city outskirts, an unextraordinary two-story dwelling with a yellow front door and a stepping stone pathway, known to its pair of inhabitants simply as home. 

Most mornings you can be found in the front yard, humming a song from your youth while painting your next masterpiece. Joel will sit in the shade on the porch steps, coffee in hand, watching you watching the world. There are plans to build a greenhouse in the back, another hideaway to retreat to when the world feels just a bit too large. A bit too bloody.

xx.

“It’s going to hurt,” Joel warned you, six months after you’d first met, peppering kisses against your shoulder.

For as many strides as Nightspyre’s made keeping up with modern law changes and customs, out here amongst the untamable hills and freak electrical storms people remained convinced the best and safest life for an Omega was at an Alpha’s side.

Unclaimed Omegas didn’t last long in Nightspyre. If an Omega didn’t find a mate themselves, then one was found for them. Didn't matter if they didn't like each other, if their scents didn't match. Having an Alpha mate was an Omega's golden ticket to a better life - or, at the very least, a larger cage where the bars weren’t so easily seen.

“Not from you,” you panted, tilting your head to grant him more access. He was still an enigma to you, so many layers left to unwrap, but you knew there was no one else in the world you wanted more as your mate than him. No one else made you feel the way he did. “It won’t hurt if it’s from you.”

His hands pinned your arms down, making you gasp, and then - then there were sharp teeth slicing through skin, biting, claiming, intertwining your lives together irreversibly.

You were his. And he was yours.