#feeling bold enough to post an edit on here

[titanebaby]

horseplay in the lake / we’re so lucky to have him on the team

ft. the poem that peter tweeted abt

[fireflyinks]

I have an idea for a request :) 💗 sorry if this is long but what if hamzah did one of the solo out of character podcasts and then he invited y/n but then the sexual/romantic tension between them so they stop filming to do other stuff (can be the deed if you want to take a smut route or just making out or being cuddly for a fluffy route!) or maybe 🫣 they forget about the camera and accidentally capture stuff on camera

special guest

hamzah x reader smut

contains : smut, oral sex (both giving and receiving), no p in v, use of y/n, cursing, sort of exhibition (they record themselves but don’t post it), munch!hamzah

a/n : I LOVE THIS SM, munch!hamzah is my new favorite thing to write, i’m obsessed. anon you’re literally a genius. thank you so much for the support on all of my hamzah posts, i love you alllll

18+ MINORS DNI

∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗

Hamzah and I had been friends for a couple of years. Both of us had YouTube channels and lived near one another so we would hang often. There was an obvious connection between us, but Hamzah nor I were bold enough to point it out. The two of us simply enjoyed dancing around the face that we obviously had mutual feelings for one another.

I sat on my couch, editing my latest video when I felt my phone buzz beside me. I picked it up, reading “hamzah” spread across my screen and a .5 picture I’d taken of him. I swiped right to answer the call.

“Hello?”

“Hey Y/n. Are you busy?”

I shook my head as if he could see me, “No, what’s up?”

“Well, Martin is busy today and can’t record for our podcast, so I was wondering if you’d want to come record with me. Like a ‘special guest’ type thing?”

I thought for a moment. I hadn’t seen him in a while just because the two of us had busy, and viewers loved it when we made content together. We actually got shipped a lot, but Hamzah always ignored it, and I never brought it up. Part of me was glad that even the fans noticed that there was something between us.

“Yeah, why not? That sounds fun, when do you want me to come over?”

Hamzah took a beat before answering. “You could come over now, and afterwards we could order dinner or something, yeah? You’ll have to come to Martin’s apartment because that’s where we film, it’s not too far from mine. I’ll send you the address.”

“I’m on my way, see ya in a second.”

“Thanks, y/n, drive safe.” He hung up.

My heart fluttered at his last comment.

I went to my room and quickly put on something sort of presentable. The star of my outfit was none other then a small denim miniskirt.

The drive to Martin’s house was only about ten minutes, but it felt like an eternity. I was way more excited about spending time was Hamzah than I should’ve been.

Once I arrived at the apartment, I knocked on the door. I was greeted immediately by Hamzah. I couldn’t help but noticed as he looked me up and down once he’d opened the door, a small grin on his lips.

“Hey!” He said, pulling me into a hug. It surprised me a bit but Hamzah was always very affectionate with me, even as a friend. He’d play with strands of my hair on late nights after filming when we’d sit and talk about pretty much anything, and would always grab my hand when leading me places.

“Hi” I smiled into his shoulder right before he let go.

“I have everything get up in here.” Like clockwork, he took my hand and led me through Martin’s apartment. I looked around, seeing the scenes that had made appearances in many of Hamzah and Martin’s videos.

“So…” He sat down on the couch, motioning for me to sit to his right, “it’s going to real casual, just like it is with Martin. I might ask you a couple questions about your channel, if you want me to.”

I shrugged, “I’m fine with anything, just happy I could help you out.”

Hamzah smiled, handing me Martin’s microphone and looking at the camera. “Well, are you ready?”

I nodded, and he got up and began recording.

“You gotta just sit here for a second awkwardly while the intro music plays.”

A few seconds went by as we tried not to laugh at the silence. I couldn’t help but notice how his eyes flicked down to my thighs, exposed by my mini skirt, every few seconds.

“Hey guys, today I’m here with someone who is not Martin.”

Hamzah motioned to me. I lifted my hand and gave the camera small wave.

“Hi there, I’m y/n.”

“Martin decided to skip recording today to go roller skating with Mandy.”

I giggled, “Well, I think they sort of trapped you into recording without them so you wouldn’t third wheel them for once.”

Hamzah rolled his eyes. We went on and on, talking about how much better I am at rolling skating than Hamzah is, how ice skating isn’t real and it’s all just an illusion because neither of us can even stand up on the ice, and after about 40 minutes, somehow the topic of none other than Ice Spice.

“Munch is an absolute banger, but I’ve never met a dude that actually enjoyed eating it.”

Hamzah furrowed his eyebrows, “Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” I went on, “like most of them do it but they don’t like it, which makes it awkward. Like I’m yet to meet a dude that actually gets pleasure out of it too.”

There was a slight pause in the conversation, and I was scared I had made him uncomfortable.

“You’re talking to one right now.”

My cheeks flushed as his comment sunk it. I couldn’t respond, no words would come out of my mouth.

“Sorry,” he looked at me worried, “I totally just made it awkward.”

“Nah,” I shook my head, desperately. My heart thumped as I looked back at him. Maybe I wasn’t delusional about our obvious connection. Why in the world would he make a comment like that if he didn’t mean it in a flirty manner? “it’s okay, really.”

I couldn’t get the thought out of my head. Hamzah’s mouth on my heat, suckling on it like it was his last meal, rubbing my clit with his thumb. I bit my lip. The way he was looking at me showed that he was possibly imagining it too.

He shifted on the couch, looking at me desperately.

“I could show you, if you want.”

I nodded dumbly.

“Please.”

Hamzah leaned in, slowly pressing his lips onto mine. He slowly worked his mouth on mine, growing more and more passionate.

His mouth moved down my body, trailing down my neck. He paused, slipping my shirt and skirt off my body and taking a moment to stare at my breasts.

“God, you’re so beautiful, you know that?” Butterflies fluttered in my stomach. “I was so distracted, I couldn’t stop staring at you.”

He rubbed my thighs, looking down at them. It’s like he was mesmerized. “These thighs are so pretty. I couldn’t stop imagining them spread for me.”

Hamzah’s boldness surprised me, but I couldn’t say that I didn’t enjoy his praises. No matter how lewd they were.

“Can I take these off?” He curled his index finger into the band of my panties.

“Yes” I breathed out, shyly.

Hamzah chuckled to himself, “You’re so cute.”

He pulled my panties off of me, spreading my legs and looking down at my aching heat. Leaning down, he slowly kissed my core. I whimpered at the feeling.

“Tell me you want it.”

I bit my lip, looking down at him with pleading eyes. “I want it. I want it so fucking bad, Hamzah.”

Without further discussion, he dove down into my aching heat, swirling his tounge through the folds. I took his hat of his head with shaky hands and ran my fingers through his curls.

He looked up at me for a moment.

“Do you feel good?” He said quickly, wasting no time to get back to his meal.

“Yes! Yes! So good.” I moaned, my legs involuntarily closing in on his head. His hands held them back in place, spread wide for him to have the fullest access.

“You taste so damn good.” He groaned out. It was entertaining, watching how much he genuinely enjoyed this. He moved his mouth like it was his last meal. I’d never felt this much pleasure just from being eaten out, and it was so sweet.

My brain felt all fuzzy from the way his tounge worked through the folds of my heat perfectly, finding all of the sensitive places and causing my legs to shake under his hold.

“Fuck- I’m gonna cum.” I threw my head back, pure pleasure filling my head as I let out breathy moans.

“Go ahead, cum for me. Cum in my mouth, baby.”

I let myself release on his tounge, my body writhing against his working mouth.

After a few seconds, he pulled away, looking up at me with hopeful eyes, almost like he’d expected me to have had a bad experience.

I didn’t. I had the complete opposite; I couldn’t stop thinking about Hamzah’s tounge.

“Fucking wow.” Is all I could manage to get out.

“Was it good?” He asked.

“More than good. That was… can I please return the favor?”

Hamzah was quick to shake his head, “You really don’t have to. I know most girls don’t like to, and I don’t expect anything in return.”

I genuinely couldn’t let myself live knowing that I didn’t repay Hamzah back after he had me seeing stars.

“No, please, I really want to.”

I couldn’t lie, I’d imagined Hamzah’s cock plenty of times. I’d wondered how big it was, what it looked like, how it would feel in my mouth, what he was like in bed, pretty much everything. But now that I might finally get it, I felt more giddy than ever.

Hamzah slowly nodded, “Alright, go ahead.”

I reached down to his jeans, unbuttoning them as he helped me pull them off his legs, followed by his boxers. His member slapped his stomach, and it surprised me just how hard he was solely from eating out.

It was… big to say the least.

I slowly bottomed him out in my mouth, gagging slightly. He groaned, keeping his eyes on me. I bobbed my head, feeling him hit the back of my throat over and over again.

“Fuck, y/n, just like that.”

I continued these motions, occasionally pulling him out of my mouth and leaving small kitten licks on the tip. He was fighting the urge to throw his head back into the sofa, continuing to keep his eyes glued to me. He breathed out shaky praises to me.

“You’re so good at this, fuck. I- I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum in my mouth… please.” I begged, sucking his faster.

He moaned before filling my mouth with his loud. I swallowed it all before taking him out of my mouth, looking up at him shyly.

“Fuck… that was amazing.”

I giggled as we looked at each other for a few moments. It was crazy, the very things I’d been fantasizing about coming true, all because of a podcast episode.

Fuck. A podcast episode.

My eyes darted over to the recording camera, my cheeks flushing. Hamzah was still looking at me, almost in a hypnotic state.

“Hamzah…” I tried to grab his attention, he hummed in response. “The camera…”

His eyes widened as he looked over, coming to the same realization that I had.

“Fuck- sorry.” He got up, pulling his boxers on and walking over to the camera. “I’m deleting all the footage. You can check afterwards if you want. Recording us really wasn’t my intention.”

He was panicking, his fingers fumbling with the cameras buttons.

“Hamzah… relax. It’s okay. You- nevermind.”

Hamzah looks over to me, his eyebrows raised in amusement. “I what?”

“You can keep the recording if you want.” It felt so lewd to say, but I meant it. It was sort of hot, knowing he had that footage of us and could watch it anytime.

He smirked, looking down at the camera and nodding. “Alright… I will.”

I blushed, “Now can we get that food that you promised me?”

Hamzah chuckled, grabbing his phone.

It was strange, a couple of seconds ago we were performing such lewd acts for a camera we’d forgot was recording, and now we were arguing about whether we should get chinese or mexican take out.

[moonswolfie]

Once in a lifetime

timeskip!Suna x reporter!reader (SPOILERS!!)

Reader is gender neutral

Because my other suna fics popped off i'm writing for my boi again ( *︾▽︾)

So yk the thing where news reporters playfully flirt with athletes/sportsmen while interviewing them sometimes? Yeah this is that basically

idk how news reporting works lmao

Being a news reporter for the sports division was always fun. You got to watch all sorts of different sports matches and competitions and even talk to some of the star atheletes up close, which was your favourite part. They always look so different to the way they do in TV.

And that holds true to EJP Raijin's Suna Rintaro, too. In a good way, a very very good way. You see, Suna Rintaro has caught your eye a while ago and you became his fan in an instant. The way he moved during each match was awfully entrancing.

You weren't going to lie, you do have a celebrity crush on him. You've watched enough matches and interviews and tiktok edits for that to hold true.

So when you got an opportunity to do post-game interviews with the EJP Raijin team, you took it as fast as you possibly could. Maybe you'll even get his autograph out of it.

So here you were, watching the match (mostly Suna) with the camera crew. It was invigorating to see him in real life, that's for sure.

The team was doing well, as expected. So close to winning, and you have zero doubt about it. With how well they're playing you just know they'll win.

You don't even realise the excited grin on your face, or the flushed cheeks for the record, but your camera crew was already gossiping about it behind you.

Their points ticked up and soon they got the final point for their victory. "Yesss..." you whispered to yourself. Winning puts the players in a good mood, consequently putting you in a good mood. And it makes them more willing to do interviews, too.

You and your camera crew pounced at the opportunity as always. You ran up to the players, the crew on your heels. And you weren't the only ones waiting to cease the opportunity, as many other reporters and photographers ran beside you. "Suna-san, Suna-san!" You tried getting his attention over the various reporters.

You knew he had a habit of ignoring interviewers, so you weren't too hopeful about an interview, especially not when literally everyone around you was also trying to get his attention, but it was always worth a try. It's not every day you see your celebrity crush, after all.

He glanced back at you, and you swear his eyes widened a little. He looked away, and then back again, seemingly deciding if it's worth it. He then stopped, letting his teammates walk around him before turning around and walking to you, pushing through the crowd of reporters.

Your smile widened with every step he took, stars shining in your eyes when you got a good look at his face up close.

Your camera crew was already set up and waiting for you to begin. You cleared your throat, trying your best to supress your big dumb smile.

"I'm here live from the stadium with EJP Raijin's number 7, Suna Rintaro!" You gesture to Suna who nods curtly. "If you don't mind, I have a few questions for you following your team's victory." You smiled brightly at him, him nodding in response.

"How did you feel about today's opponent?" You went about asking the standard questions you ask basically every time you do an interview.

"Their serves were tough to handle..." Suna sighed slightly, thinking back of all the times his receives were slightly off and the ball went in a weird direction. "And their libero was quite annoying to deal with. That's a compliment, by the way."

You chuckled a little, quickly following up with "How do you feel about your victory?" You asked, smile as bright as ever. Somehow, you felt bold all of a sudden. I mean, isn't interviewing your celebrity crush a once in a lifetime moment? You might as well take advantage of that....

You nodded along to his answer, channeling your courage in the meantime.

"And are you single?" You asked in a half joking tone so you can play it off as one just in case he doesn't take it well. You would like to think that you asked this with confidence but you honestly can't hear yourself over your hammering heartbeat right now.

He seemed stunned by your question, a small smile forming on his face when seeing your nervous smile. Your camera crew sighed, one of them smiling victoriously, knowing he won the bet.

"...Yes, I am. Why are you asking?" He asked, looking at you with feigned cluelessness. You realise just now that this is odd behaviour for him. Usually when a news reporter would try to flirt with him, he'd shut them down immediately.

"Well, you know... because this is a question of utmost importance. Alteast to me." You winked, immediately regretting it after. Ugh, that was lame...

"Is my number a a thing of utmost importance, too?" he asked playfully, smirking at you. Out of all the things that could happen today, you were never expecting him to flirt back.

You almost didn't want to believe it. You thought that you'll wake up from the dream any second now. You swallowed all your emotions quickly, nodding eagerly while trying your best to wear a flirty smile. "But of course."

At this, he chuckles a little bit, which put a big smile on your face. You cannot believe you actually made him laugh. And got to see it up close, too. "This is wayyy better than all the other interviews I've ever done. No shade to the other reporters." After a small pause, he stretched his arms.

"I'll be behind the stadium, by the way." he said with a casual smile on his face, turning around and walking off.

Only then did the reality that you just flirted with your celebrity crush on live TV truly hit you. "Umm, well, back to you, Kiriya-san!" you signified the end of your segment swiftly, and your camera crew cut the cameras.

Oh lord, the other news reporters back at the station are never going to let you forget this, are they... "Hey, look who's out here getting a boyfriend..." your cameraman teased, and you clenched your jaw in embarrasment. "You don't gotta do this to me, this was a once in a lifetime opportunity..."

"Well, then what are you waiting for? He said he's waiting for you behind the stadium."

I normally don't do this but i am in my shadowban era so likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated <3 )

(oh yeah, please and thank u 😊)

[ghostybaby000]

He found you. Again. | Part 1

part 2 part 3

Pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x reader

Summary: You had never truly had any issues with what you thought was a creep with a crush, that is until you realized it was far more serious-but by then, it was too late. 

Warnings: 18+, stalker, symptoms of panic, future smut

Word Count: 2.5k

(Not fully edited, apologies for any incorrect information!)

From someone with a username, to someone who had entirely become obsessed with your life, and all of its details since high school. You weren’t famous online, and you certainly didn’t try to be, in fact you enjoyed having only a few close friends. This once innocent crush became destructive when you found they had been talking to family members about you and what you, ‘were up to’. You knew that stalkers weren’t something to mess around with and once you had found the right people to talk to, you were able to file a restraining order which worked, for some time. 

Years had gone by, and the interaction had totally abandoned your mind not hearing or seeing anything from the matter for so long, you assumed it had passed. That is until you were visiting your family’s home in your childhood town, and found a dark figure watching you from the roadside. Here, in this small town where this obsessive behavior had begun, in this home where you once felt warmth and safety you now felt dread and utter panic.

While you had just been passing in the upstairs hallway, you happened to look down and froze, as memories of the monster crawled up your spine causing you to bead sweat from anger or fear, you couldn’t tell. From this distance you wouldn’t guess it was a person, just a dark shadow as the sun was setting on the other side of your house, where your family was waiting for you to return. 

You stood still, although your heart couldn’t help pounding in your chest until you could heart it reverberate in between your ears, a constant reminder of the fight or flight battle occurring in your mind. You felt a buzz in your back pocket causing you to flinch just enough to be noticeable, your phone. You considered reaching for it, not wanting to take your eyes off the figure, now standing facing you directly, a cold dark stare plastered over their hooded face looking up at you. Now that they’ve positioned themselves to face you more directly you take in more details, some that you recall being very different from years past.  They seem slightly taller and broader, and stronger, much stronger. Although the coloration of the clothing is difficult to see from this distance, you can just make out that they are wearing large boots, and a jacket that made them look all the more intimidating while a hood kept their lurking eyes from yours. Your instincts tell you to scream, to yell for a family member to call the police, to come and take this thing that was so persistent in getting to you it made you sick.  You couldn’t find it in your turning stomach to yell out, still feeling as if your feet were glued to the ground, your heartbeat the only thing confirming you weren’t dreaming. 

You finally find it in you to reach for your phone, and instead of looking at the screen you held it close to your body, eyes still focused on the figure. You think through your options taking a second to realize that your family was just downstairs, a lump forming in your throat, considering if he were bold enough to try and come inside. You could look down to call the police, although you had a feeling it wouldn’t be that effective seems how they were standing outside your home- and then it occurred to you. How did he know you were back in town? You kept every detail of your personal life offline, not even allowing friends to post much about you. This thought made your stomach flip again, when you hear a saving grace from just downstairs. 

Relentless barking from the family dog caused the hulking figure to saunter farther from the house backwards, only turning their back when necessary. They finally make their way across the street where they jump a fence and vanish as if they had already routed it out in their mind. 

As soon as the figure is gone you yell out for your mother, who comes bounding up the stairs along with the dog into your room, who was simply happy to see you and who had unsuspectingly protected you and your family. You scramble for your phone, words fumbling from your mouth in trying to explain what had happened to your now very concerned mother.

‘What do you mean he’s back?, who is he?’

‘T-The stalker- the guy who we got a restraining order for just a few years ago!?, You don’t remember him? ‘ You ramble out breathlessly, your heart still racing, hoping with everything that she would believe you.

‘Oh honey no, who in their right minds would come at this hour, and let alone after so long-‘

She’s taken aback when she sees the piercing look you give her, when she’s able to finally see the sweat beading down your face, your hands still shaking just as intensely as your breathing. 

‘Are you sure, and I mean sure it was him- no chances it wasn’t?’ 

You already have the phone to your ear, calling for the police before she can allow you to second guess yourself, you knew what you saw. 

Soon after that event and the police being as helpful as possible you made your way back home, states away where you finally began to feel at peace. You reassured your mother and father multiple times a day that you were okay and made it home safe for a few weeks afterwards, knowing that you weren’t just doing it for you but for them as well. 

This peacefulness was disturbed when you had found yourself face to face with your new neighbor. The neighbor that was far taller than you, far more muscular than you had thought, and on top of that incredibly intimidating.

You had just come back from work, making your way into the elevator taking notice of everyone there that at some point you had spoken to. The other people had gotten off on their level by the time you had made your way up to the fourth floor, when the elevator doors opened and there he was. 

You hadn’t gotten a chance to see the new neighbor that moved in, being quiet in his own room down the hall a few rooms from yours, allowed for you to barley notice him until now and you couldn’t help but tear your gaze away as you made eye contact with him through a mask he was wearing. 

‘Oh, h-hello I suppose you’re the new neighbor?’

The elevator doors began to close as his hand, which you now noticed was larger than you had thought reached out to hold them open as he stepped out of the way so you could pass.

‘Yes’  

His thick accent and deeper tone made you feel unnerved, maybe he was nervous moving into a new building, or didn’t want to talk with anyone. If anything you understood trying to stay away from others and keeping yourself closed off. You step out of the hall essentially swapping places with him as you make one last glance at him, his back to the elevator wall with his head slightly tilted up, you now see he has boots on…boots that are quite large and seem to be military.

You feel a flush through your body as you scramble to your room, making sure to lock both the deadbolt and door itself as worry was catching up to you now. You think for a second to call your parents and tell them…

Tell them what? A neighbor moved in- a man who has an accent and military grade boots- no, you would sound ridiculous. There were plenty of good reasons for him to be staying in these apartments- one being a nearby base. Instead, you try to relax by preparing something quick to eat and taking a warm shower, reading for a bit then getting to bed. 

You’d noticed him more after that interaction, realizing he only lived 2 doors down and that he was in the military- to what degree or position you had no clue. This made sense as he would be gone for days on end, sometimes even weeks on what you assumed were missions of some sort. He didn’t try to talk to you or go out of his way to say anything neighborly, instead he would give you passing glances and the occasional head nod as he made him way to his room. You became accustomed to him living on your floor and figured that the next time you’d see him you would try to get to at least know his name.

This happened far sooner than you thought, the next day to be exact as you saw him pulling up outside the building. You made your way outside to a nearby bench and found him with a group of what appeared to be other military men all dressed similarly with a calm but stern expression, although you couldn’t really make out his expression being hidden by the mask. The mask he wears makes sense when you believe you hear someone refer to him as ‘Ghost’, clearly he didn’t give away much personal information even to those closer to him. You thought it would be rude to assume you heard correctly, so instead you figure you would ask. You waited until his group had left and attempted to speak with him as he made a gesture for the door to the apartments. 

‘Hey, I never caught your name-‘ You say as you get up from the bench motioning towards him.

He slows his movement in hearing you for just a second, yet still made his way inside which to you, seemed to be ignoring you.

Maybe he just wasn’t a friendly person, you were sure that being in the military was difficult, as you’d seen him before making it too his room with a limp or wrapped hand. You decided to not push the matter any more, almost feeling embarrassed for trying to get his attention, angry at yourself and feeling foolish slightly overhearing his conversation. With a bit of speed in your step you made your way to the market to pick up some ingredients for dinner, which was your original plan before that embarrassment.

Later in the evening you find that you’d forgotten some things and would enjoy some fresh air before getting to bed for work tomorrow. You usually went to the market that was a few blocks away, but tonight you decided that you’d like to walk to the local market which was only a few buildings down. As the sun was setting you found it nice to notice the change in seasons and the small families walking together, making a mental note to call and check in on your own family later.

You purchase your few items and start to head back to the apartments when you reconcile about your interaction earlier. Opening the door to the building you think to yourself,

He had clearly slowed down when he heard me-why not respond? Passing the receptionists desk with a small wave and smile. 

He didn’t seem very open to talking, I’m sure he’s got plenty on his plate. The last thing he needs is someone pestering him. Pressing the elevator button, watching the floor numbers tick down until they had reached one. 

And on top of that, I really should try and keep myself more reserved-who knows what kind of a person he really is or why he is so mysterious. Stepping into the elevator, pausing before turning to press the button. More people shuffle in as you watch your feet still lost in your thoughts, until again you are what seemed to be the only one left in the small boxy elevator. 

Why did I try to ask in the first place-

‘It’s Ghost’ You inhale sharply, whipping around to see the one that had been so imbedded in your thoughts now looming behind you. He sees your panic and continues to speak anyways.

‘People call me Ghost; You really should pay attention more closely to your surroundings.’ 

Still catching your breath as the door opens to both of your floors he begins to walk to his room, leaving you in the elevator.

‘O-Oh well I’m Y/N’ Why were you so quiet? You were almost sure he didn’t hear you now being steps ahead of you. How had such a large man made his way behind you-had you been that lost in thought? All of a sudden his name made sense.

 Your mind catches up with you as you straighten yourself and start to walk towards your room as well. He’s making his way inside fishing his keys from his pockets when, despite your thoughts not to, you ask,

‘What’s your real name, Ghost?’ 

He pauses for a moment to look up at you, his eye contact making you feel nervous yet still standing tall you waited for his response. He finds the correct key and unlocks his door with ease returning his eyes to his door. Using his hand to push it ajar you think he’s going to leave without giving you a response again, only starting to make you feel worse for asking. He takes a breath as if he were going to answer but instead leaves you with only a ‘goodnight.’

You had continued on with your work life, your job feeling more boring by the day. Sometimes chatting with your parents and brother and making easy home dinners. Tonight you had made a microwave dinner, and decided to watch one of your favorite detective shows before drifting to sleep on the couch. Hours later you jolt wake to the sound of gun shots coming from the TV, it was louder than you had thought and hoped it hadn’t woken any of your neighbors. The room in-between yours and ‘Ghosts’ hadn’t been occupied in a while along with plenty of other rooms on the fourth floor, and you worried about being too loud possibly waking anyone up- especially those who didn’t get rest often. 

You quickly turn down the volume and click off the TV, bringing your snack wrappers to the kitchen finally making your way to your bedroom. You’re just passing through the hall to your room when you hear a knocking at the door. You felt your stomach drop, you had woken him up. You woke him up and now he was here to scold you for being so inconsiderate- you saunter to the door still tired yet moving quickly enough to not make him more upset. You open the door, prepared with an apology yawning as you do so, looking to the ground embarrassed.

‘I’m sorry for the noise, I didn’t realize it was so loud’ Rubbing your eyes you get a chance to look up and see now more clearly than ever, this was not Ghost. This couldn’t be ghost, he wasn’t as tall and wasn’t masked in the slightest. It only took you a few seconds to age the younger features you once new and had seen in reports, and now you knew that your fears had come to light.

He had found you. Again. 

[regretmedaisy]

i can see you - tom riddle x fmc/reader

part II

loosely inspired by "i can see you" by taylor swift.

“I've been watchin' you for ages

And I spend my time tryin' not to feel it”

summary: She had always fancied Tom Riddle. It was an infatuation that bordered on love and obsession, that she had secretly grown and cared for, content with indulging in her fantasies and never bold enough to try and make them become reality.

When she meets him again in her adulthood, dormant longings resurface together with a newfound desire to be the object of his own devotion.

As their paths keep crossing, she starts to think he feels the same.

tags: afab mc, use of female pronouns and no descriptors (i tagged it as x reader because i guess it could be read as such if you use the same pronouns), somewhat period-accurate clothing, courtship (just a little because it's still tom riddle), fmc has a crush on tom, she's a bit anxious, a bit of fluff, explicit sexual desire, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, woman is on top.

please note that mc has a crush on tom, therefore the way she refers to him could sound a bit cheesy and exaggerated. i edited this last night and didn't read it again before posting. i'm sorry for any typos or grammar mistakes i missed.

bear with her in this one, she's a little anxious.

words: 6.7K

you can find part I here, I strongly recommend you read that one first.

this is me crawling out of my hole of shame to post this chapter.

i'm really sorry for this very late update, but the smut chapter is finally here after many days of writing (but still in time for smutober lol).

it's not crazy smut, but i hope it was worth the wait.

Part II: And I could see you up against the wall with me

She tapped her foot, pursing her red lips as she jotted a few numbers down on a parchment. She sighed, taking another folder from the pile on her side and checking if the reports corresponded. 

When Serena, her boss, had showed up that morning with two delivery men in tow, she already knew her day was going to take a detestable turn.

Serena had dropped three boxes full of last year's reports in the office and sprinted out of the door before they could say anything and try to stop her.

Apparently she had hired a cheap accountant to save money and now she had to review everything before the Ministry noticed and demanded an audit. Or rather, Serena had asked her to do it.

She was now holed up in the backroom while Will had taken her place in the main office, since Serena didn’t pay her enough to care about customers and save her from bankruptcy at the same time.

She glanced at the clock, noting that it was almost time for her usual break. She chewed the inside of her cheek and returned to the reports.

She wasn’t in the right mindset to meet Tom.

The day she had gone to see him had been like the calm before the literal storm. In the past week it had rained so heavily that she had had to give up on going out and he hadn’t come to post his letters. What had happened between them had been left unresolved.

She had replayed it so many times in her mind, at night and during idle moments in the office, picturing different ways in which it could have ended, desperately wishing she could indulge in his warm lips again.

The first few days she had fretted about it, but as the week had gone by without a word from him, she had just started to accept it as the normal course of things. Perhaps it had just been an extraordinary event, a moment that wasn’t going to repeat itself and that she needed to find contentment in. Perhaps it was supposed to be one of those memories she was going to return to in twenty years, thinking about everything she could have had, or it will sour in her mind, turning into regret while her lamenting soul grieved the possibilities of youth, the chances she had been too scared to take.

It didn’t matter that she was conscious of the anxious butterflies leading her decisions, she still didn’t want to find out if what she saw in him was just a product of her infatuated imagination.

She immersed herself in numbers, refusing to go down that rabbit hole again.

Fifteen minutes after the end of her break, a customer walked in. A beat of silence followed and then Will said, “She’s in the back.”

She almost jumped out of her seat, her heart rate picking up. She quickly smoothed her hair and sat straighter, crossing her legs.

Tom appeared in the doorway, his arm half raised as if he had wanted to knock. She pretended she had just noticed him.

“Good morning,” he said.

“Hello, Tom.” She gave him a mellow smile.

He was so good-looking, with his perfectly styled curls and black coat in the muted light of the cloudy morning. Her heart fluttered painfully.

He looked hesitant as he made his way to her and handed her a folded magazine. It was the weekly crossword.

“Thank you,” she said, taking it as her gaze met his. The way he was looking at her was so compelling it was impossible for her to divert her eyes.

He had been thinking of her, she realised, he had noticed her absence, perhaps even missed her.

“I hope I’m not disrupting your work.” His gaze trailed to the numerous papers scattered on the table.

“Not at all, a distraction is more than welcome.” The distraction of his presence was most desirable.

He drew closer, reading through them as he casually rested his hand on the back of her chair.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Maths mostly,” she replied, fiddling with the parchments to hide her nervousness.

He reached out over her shoulder to grab a folder but she placed a hand on his arm to stop him.

“I’d rather you didn’t. It’s still work.”

He dropped his arm. “You’re right, I apologise. I don’t wish to put you in an uncomfortable position.”

“It’s fine.”

He stepped to the side, tickling her neck.

“I’ll see you later?” he asked.

She had to stop herself from grinning.

“Of course.” 

She watched him with desirous parted lips as he left. He said goodbye to Will and she heard the door closing. It was only a matter of minutes before Will came to pry.

She grabbed the crossword, flipping through the pages. He had bought her her favourite one.

As she got up to put it next to her bag, a small note fell to the ground. It was a plain piece of parchment. But as she picked it up, ready to throw it on the table with the rest of the documents, words started to appear.

Her breath caught in her throat. She knew to whom that elegant and neat handwriting belonged.

She read the note. Then read it again to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating. 

“I hope to see you more often in the future.

You look stunning with that lip colour.

T.R.”

She brought her fingers to her mouth, staring at the words until each swirl of ink etched into her mind, terrified they might disappear.

Instead his message remained there, visible, tangible, real. He had taken time to write her a note, to think about something he knew she’d appreciate.

Something warm diffused in her chest, a new version of a familiar feeling, and a giggle escaped her as she realised the ridiculous effect he had on her. 

She was so engrossed in her reverie that she didn’t notice Will standing in the door until he cleared his throat. 

She quickly hid the message in her purse and  he was so considerate not to comment on it.

“How is it going?” he asked.

“Awfully slowly, these numbers are all over the place,” she huffed, returning to her chair.

He dragged a chair and sat across from her. He started bouncing his knee. “I know you’d prefer not to talk about this, but how are things between you two?”

She stopped twirling her quill. “What do you mean?”

Will shuffled awkwardly in his seat. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy for you but I’d hate to see you hurt.”

She tilted her head to the side, disliking the territory the conversation was heading towards.

He was struggling with his words. “He never- I never saw him interested in a girl. I just want to be sure you know what you can expect from him.”

She averted her eyes. “I have considered all the options.”

“And?”

“And I don’t know, Will!” she bursted out. 

Her flare of annoyance suddenly deflated, making room for embarrassment for what he probably saw as naivety.

“I know I’m probably getting ahead of myself.”

“You are smart, I just can’t stand watching you smile at the things he writes to you.”

She feigned offence and threw a balled up paper at him. 

“When you find someone, you’ll be just as ridiculous.”

He laughed and steepled his fingers in front of him. “I’m curious to know, when did it start?”

She scrunched her eyebrows, thinking about how much she wanted to reveal. “I don’t remember exactly. It was more like a sequence of events, until one day I was anxiously waiting for him to sit at his usual spot at breakfast,” she replied with a smile. Will was smiling too.

“You and half of Hogwarts,” he said.

She chuckled. “I miss those years sometimes. Everything was simpler.”

“I used to worry about everything,” he admitted. “But fears always seem so big.”

They really did.

“What do you like about him?” he asked after a beat of silence.

It was her turn to be at a loss of words. “He’s handsome…and always so mysterious. I think I always liked him because it was easy to imagine him being exactly what I wanted.” She looked at him hesitantly, fearing judgement, but he was just listening. “But I think it’s impossible for me to dislike the real him.”

They shared a small moment of closure. She had always wished for someone she could confide in, someone that could help her see beyond the fabrications of her wary heart, and perhaps she had finally found them.

The bell chimed and Will got up. 

“Do you want to come for lunch on Sunday?” she asked.

“I’d love to. I’m sorry for earlier, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

His gaze shifted between the door and her. “Just make sure you both want the same thing.”

He went back, leaving her at the mercy of her insidious brain and foolish heart.

Throughout the afternoon she had opened the note at least three times, giggling like a schoolgirl everytime she read his words.

Her mind kept straying to what he had said.

“I’ll see you later.”

She wasn’t sure what he had actually meant. Was he just going to stop by or was he going to wait for the office to close? She wasn’t even sure she could see him today, since she expected to stay late to solve Serena’s mess. 

Will popped in. “I have to check something at the owlery. I’ll be back in a while.”

“Alright, I’ll see you later.”

The door opened and closed and then she was submerged by stillness. It was soothing almost.

She had found out long ago that she enjoyed being alone, it freed her of any kind of expectation.

She turned up the heating with her wand and took off her jacket. Since they couldn’t light a fireplace in a room full of paper, they had refined a spell that kept the room warm and the humidity away.

It was a few minutes after the usual closing hour that the door opened again. She knew who it was.

He walked in, his cheeks slightly flushed from the cold and his lips reddened. 

“Are you still working?” he asked.

She nodded. “I’m afraid it’ll take a while before I’m free to go.”

“It’s not a problem,” he said, grabbing her crossword and a quill and sitting down on a chair, bending one leg so that his ankle rested on his other knee.

Her face heated as she watched him but she didn’t say anything.

As she returned to her work, she realised that silence was a strange assistant. It felt like every sound was heightened and she was becoming keenly aware of everything that was happening. The scratching of their quill on parchment, paper being flipped as she checked the numbers or he looked for a crossword he liked, his soft breath threatening to pull her close like a magnet, her absentmindedly chipping her nail polish.

She kept throwing glances in his direction and she could feel his eyes on her from time to time.

An unspoken craving was growing between them again. She had waited long enough.

She slowly got up, gathering her reports and stacking them in a neat pile. She then took them and walked over to the shelves, conveniently passing by Riddle in doing so. 

As she stored them, his chair scraped on the ground and she felt him draw closer. She deliberately turned around, meeting his eyes.

His gaze was deep, like he was trying to read every thought that crossed her mind just by looking at her. She wasn’t going to lay them bare for him. 

He raised his hand, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Did you get my message?”

“I did,” she replied, stepping forward and trailing her fingers down his suit jacket, feeling the fabric. “You keep mentioning it but this is the first time I’ve seen you all week.”

“It was storming all week,” he pointed out.

She tilted her head, finding his eyes again. His eagerness was palpable. “Still,” she said.

He grabbed her waist, pressing her body flush against his. “And you still haven’t answered my question.”

She had thought about that moment since then.

“Tell me what you desire the most.”

What could she tell him? That she had been pining for him for so long she couldn’t imagine herself with anyone else? That she was jealous of even thinking about him with someone else? Will’s words played in her mind.

She leaned closer, murmuring against his ear. “Not until I know why you’re here, Tom.”

She left a kiss on his jaw, phantom lips brushing against his flawless skin.

“It’s a really uncomplicated answer,” he said, caressing her back.

“Explain it to me, then.”

Tender amusement tugged at the corners of his lips. “Do you really think I came here because I don’t own an owl?”

His words pulled at her heartstrings with raw delight and her mind went blank. Adrenaline was rushing through her as she listened to her impulses. It was enough, at least for now it was enough.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and tangled her hand in his hair, involuntarily tugging at the strands as she leaned closer. She could feel his warm breath as he pulled her in, gripping the silky fabric of her blouse.

She met his lips halfway, the burning touch consuming her as he pressed her against the shelves, one hand lost in her hair, the other splayed around her ribcage. 

She bit his lower lip, smiling as it elicited a groan from him and the kiss became more demanding.

It was a moment frozen in time, where she wanted to stay forever, like the scenery in a snowglobe.

“Hello?”

A man’s voice abruptly pulled them apart. She was breathless as she realised she had forgotten to lock the door. Was this a conspiracy? 

Tom was slightly panting and she left a small kiss on his neck.

“Don’t leave,” she whispered.

She used a finger to fix her smudged lipstick and went to see who had just dared to interrupt them.

There was a man standing in the office.

“We’re closed,” she said.

“But I saw the light on.”

There was a twitch in her jaw. “We are closed to the public. I must ask you to come tomorrow morning.”

He rolled his eyes and she ignored his grumbling as he left, locking the door behind him. When she went back, Tom was leaning against the table.

He turned his head towards her as she languidly got closer. She forgot pleasantries, immediately grabbing his face to kiss him again. He was quick to react, wrapping his arms around her.

His mouth trailed down, kissing her cheek, her jaw and then pressing against her neck, soft lips and the occasional scrape of his teeth. 

He grabbed her waist and spun her around, flattening her back against his chest and brushing her hair away from her neck to bite and lick her skin. His hands travelled down and he started gathering the fabric of her skirt. 

Merlin, it was finally happening. 

He caressed her inner thigh, tracing patterns and snapping the nylon of her stockings as his fingers moved excruciatingly slow.

Finally he pulled her underwear to the side, feeling the wetness between her folds with his fingers as his other hand cupped her breast.

She threw her head back against his shoulder as he stroked her clit, eliciting a sigh out of her, and she grabbed his thigh for support.

“I won’t drop you,” he murmured, amused, against her ear. He rubbed his palm over her clothed breast, the friction causing sparks to jolt through her body.

None of her fantasies came even close to what she was feeling right now.

“Should I trust you?” she asked, biting her lip to suppress a moan as he sunk one finger inside of her, his thumb still applying pressure on her clit.

“Such a great timing to ask me that,” he replied. She felt him smile on her skin.

“We don’t really know each other, Tom.” She dug her fingers into his flesh as he slipped in a second finger and started fingering her, stretching her as pleasure morphed her features. 

“And yet you are letting me do this.” He squeezed her breast, lewd wet sounds filling the room as he kept moving his fingers inside of her. 

She leaned her body weight completely on him, her legs unsteady as it was precarious the beating of her heart. 

He let out a low moan as she yanked his hair to catch his mouth, biting his lip hard to gain better access, their tongues tangling together.

He curled his fingers inside of her, an unrelenting wave of pleasure washing over her.

She stopped to imagine what it would be like if he dropped to his knees again, if he started kissing and licking her, if she could watch him at her mercy between her legs.

She realised in that moment that the fall down the precipice was inevitable. Tom had threatened to push her but she had allowed him to succeed, jumping into an abyss that felt unending but that could only allow two conclusions to her story.

What she had told Will was true. She loved the fantasy, all the glances, conversations, gestures that had never happened, that she had delighted herself with when the reality was harsher, but as she kissed him she knew that falling for the real Tom was unavoidable. Not if he kept touching her like that.

It was bound to happen, it was part of her story, the decision she was brave enough to take.

She focused on him, on the circles his thumb was drawing on her clit, on the indecent sounds falling from her lips, on his groans on her reddened skin, on him growing harder against her back. 

He pulled her hair back, tilting her head to meet her gaze. His eyes glimmered with rapture while hers were heavy-lidded, tension building inside of her. 

He didn’t take his eyes off of her, as if he wanted to memorise each detail of her, the way she looked at him, the way her lips parted slightly and the way she panted as she was nearing her orgasm.

“Just like that, darling,” he murmured, a pleased smile on his lips as he noticed she was still blushing.

She threw her head back, losing herself in the motion of his fingers, surrendering herself as blissed moans spilled out shamelessly. She squeezed his soaked fingers, and he kept moving, stroking her throughout her climax.

She panted, coming down from her apex in a flurry of emotions and flustered thoughts. He raised his wet fingers to her lips and she opened her mouth, tasting herself on her tongue as she sucked on them, never breaking eye contact.

“Good girl,” he said, holding her jaw and kissing her.

It was a slow kiss, meant to explore her depths in a different way from the breathless and unrestrained passion from before. She leaned into his palm, her hand closing around his wrist.

His arms snaked around her waist and he turned them around, pushing under her thighs to lift her on the table.

The kiss transformed again.

Teeth and tongues met with vehemence, burning urgency guiding their movements as he brought her legs around his waist and she quickly started to unbutton her blouse.

But at the third button, she stopped. 

Tom noticed the shift in her demeanour and drew back, observing her. Her eyes flew to the clock, as she had just remembered about Will.

She noticed with disappointment that they had no time.

“What is it?” he asked. She didn’t miss the urgent tone of his question.

“Will will be back any time now,” she replied, leaving a peck on his lips. 

He cleared his throat and stepped back, composing himself. She got off the table and

cool hands unexpectedly reached her again, adjusting her clothes and stockings. She shivered at the contact.

He smoothed her skirt and put his coat back on, watching her as she scribbled something on a piece of paper and gave it to him.

“If you want to stop by one of these days.”

“I remember where you live,” he replied, reading the address she had written down.

She shrugged, holding out one finger to wipe away the lipstick at the corner of his mouth.

“Do you have to go back to work?”

“I was supposed to meet with a potential supplier, so yes.”

“I’d stop by the bathroom before,” she advised, gesturing for him to go as she herself needed to compose herself again.

She braced herself against the threshold, leaning her head on the hard wood as she watched him unlock the door and leave. 

Then she was alone, finally finding an answer in the cluster of hypotheses that had tormented her mind.

Two days later, as she was returning from her meeting with Serena, she found Tom waiting for her.

He was talking to Will and they both turned to her as she entered, feeling tremendously self-conscious.

“How is Serena?” Will asked.

“Dim-witted as always,” she replied, earning a laugh from Will.

Her eyes trailed to Riddle, holding an unspoken question. 

Will seemed to notice because he stepped forwards.

“It’s quite late, you can go if you want, I’ll close.”

Tom didn’t wait for him to repeat himself, pushing down the handle and holding the door open for her.

She mouthed a ‘thank you’ to him and followed Tom outside. Once in the street, she huddled herself in her coat and took the arm he was offering her. 

“May I walk you home?” he asked.

“Of course,” she said, a little breathy, still not immune to the chivalrous manners he always had with her.

They strolled through the streets, passing by scarcer and scarcer people as the stores emptied and everyone returned home seeking a tranquil evening.

She held his arm tightly, her fingers tracing delicate patterns on the fabric of his coat.

The first time they had walked together it had felt like an accident, a singular mistake in the already waved threads of her life. This time, she yearned for so much more than she wanted for the error to repeat itself; she was willing to cut the strings herself and tie them back together, as messy as it might have looked. 

They crossed the road and he gently put a hand on her waist, pushing her away from the pavement. 

“Would you fancy dinner?” he asked. There was a foreign quality in his voice and when she turned to look at him, he averted his eyes. She blinked bewildered. Was he nervous?

“I’d love to,” she replied and she noticed his chest rising like he had just begun breathing again. “But not tonight.”

An almost imperceptible smile cleared his expression at her answer and she leaned her head on his shoulder, basking in his mere presence.

When they reached her front door, she looked for her keys with embarrassingly clammy hands. 

As she lifted her head to ask Tom if he wanted to stay, she found his eyes impatiently boring into her bag. 

“Would you-”

His gaze snapped to her, serious and scorching. “Don’t even ask.”

Something coiled between her legs at the way he was looking at her. She nodded and walked up the few stairs to her door, unlocking it.

“Second floor,” she said, more to fill the silence than anything else.

They stepped into the building, the sound of her heels and the soles of his shoes hitting the stone ricocheting through the empty hall.

She turned to gesture to him to follow her when he grabbed her face, kissing her as he pushed her against the wall by the foot of the stairs. Her hands tangled in his hair, tugging at it just as she suspected he loved by the way he always pressed himself harder against her. 

He curved his palm around her cheek, better angling her face as their tongues met.

“I have a nosy neighbour,” she said after they pulled apart to catch their breath. “She is probably spying on us through her peephole.”

Tom didn’t think twice about it, taking her hand and leading her up to the second floor. She stifled a laugh as she unlocked the door, Tom’s lips skimming against her neck as she did, and was left breathless when he closed it unceremoniously behind them, resuming from where they had been interrupted.

As she dropped her bag and grabbed his waist, walking backwards into her living room, she remembered there were clothes somewhere - perhaps in the bathroom but she wasn’t sure - that she had forgotten to put away yesterday.

In any case, Tom didn’t look particularly interested in how tidy she was.

They quickly took off each other's coats and discarded them on the floor.

He sat on her sofa, pulling her down with him.

She was straddling him, her knees digging into the plush cushions as his hands appreciatively caressed her back, moving up and down and occasionally squeezing. She lit the fireplace with a wave of her hand.

She rocked her hips, rubbing against him and eliciting a long awaited moan from him. She grabbed the collar of his shirt, their lips collading so hard she was sure she cut him.

She helped him out of his jacket and vest and undid his tie, smoothing her hands on his white button-down.

“I’ve waited too long,” she said, quickly unbuttoning his shirt and grinding against him. Her hands disappeared under his undershirt and ran over his pale chest, lightly scratching his skin.

“Slowly, my dear. We will get there,” he replied between kisses.

His palms kept tracing her thighs and his face buried in her neck, nibbling at the thin skin.

When she was a small girl, before she discovered sex, Tom Riddle was just a boy she liked. During puberty, sharing stories and questions with her friends, she started to understand what was the sensation that passed through her everytime she was close to him, the one that made her cheeks redden and her mind go somewhere she wasn’t yet comfortable with.

As an adult, sexual relations weren’t unfamiliar to her, but this carnal longing, the need of a physicality that went beyond her skin touching his, was.

He opened her blouse, revealing her silk slip and bra underneath.

She wanted to touch his soul, to hold it and comprehend it.

Her eyes fell on the tattoo on his forearm, black tendrils of ink in the shape of a serpent slithering out of a skull.

“Does this have a meaning?” she asked.

He followed her gaze, blinking surprised at her question. “It does.”

“Am I prying too much if I say I’m curious to learn it?”

He bit his lip, opening and closing his fist as if he was scrambling for words. Or perhaps he was just determining if he could trust her.

“It’s a reinterpretation of the ouroboros, the snake eating its own tail,” he finally said. “It symbolises eternity and the renewal of the being after rebirth.”

She traced her fingers on his skin, following the outline of the snake. “And what does your interpretation mean?”

“There is time to talk about it later,” he whispered, his teeth biting her neck and sinking lower, kissing her collarbone and her sternum, moving the fabric covering her breasts to the side.

She let go of the subject. She knew what it meant not being comfortable sharing your life.

He held one breast between his fingers, latching his mouth over the other, sucking her nipple and twirling his tongue around it.

She moaned, rolling her hips faster as he revered her bosom, the cold air hitting her moist skin and making her shiver as he took her other nipple in his mouth, lightly tugging at it until she reached the point where pleasure and discomfort mixed.

“Since we are in the mood for confessions…” she said between moans. He raised his head and looked at her waiting for her to continue. She hesitated, collecting all her courage.

“Why did you pursue me?”

His eyes softened, glimmering with fondness. He brushed a strand of hair away from her face.

“Because there is something extremely valuable in your devotion.” His voice was an intimate murmur, a confession no one else could hear.

She freezed, turning her head to the side to hide her mortification.

He took her chin, searching for her eyes until she finally gave in.

“Don’t be embarrassed, darling, I respect it, I understand it. Obsession keeps us alive, it’s what drives us.”

She swallowed the lump of embarrassment in her throat. “Do you enjoy it?”

“Being the object of the desire of such a woman? Of a witch? I do,” he replied, and he was so direct and earnest that her heart swelled.

He lifted her to sit on the sofa, sliding down on his knees on the floor and taking off his shirt and vest. She remained silent as he rolled down her tights, his lips gliding down her smooth skin. He unbuttoned her skirt and helped her out of it, tracing patterns on her inner thigh as his other hand felt her damp underwear.

She tensed, something tightening in her lower abdomen and her eyes fell down to his trousers.

He kissed the crease of the thigh, like he had done that one time at Borgin and Burkes, but this time she wasn’t letting anyone interrupt them. 

He took off her underwear, his movements deliberately slow, and kissed her everywhere, except there.

His lips felt hot on her skin, searing her flesh like she had often dreamed about, carving his way into her body the same way he had done with her mind and heart, until her entire soul was consumed by him, until he could finally close that fist and feel her in a way nobody had before. 

Her breath hitched as he delicately kissed her mound, spreading her legs apart. She leaned her head against the backrest, licking her lips with anticipation, and she couldn’t contain a whimper as he felt his tongue dragging down her slit, sweet and cruel.

He took her clit in his mouth, sucking on it as his hand splayed on her abdomen to keep her still.

She squeezed her eyes shut, overwhelmed.

“Look at me, darling,” he murmured against her folds. His breath was warm and pleasant.

She obliged, meeting his devilish grinning figure between her legs. She was incapable of looking away as he resumed his work, she didn’t want to look away. She wanted to watch him, finally allowing herself to fully indulge in him, in what he wished to do for her.

She observed his curved eyelashes, the way his perceptive eyes followed her reactions, refining his movements to please her better.

He sucked her labia and she moaned loudly, the idea of him enjoying this as much as her being exhilarating.

He threw her leg on his shoulder, resulting in her figure sliding down the cushions and him gaining better access to her. 

His tongue probed her entrance as he coated his fingers in her wetness. He slipped one finger in, working her thoroughly as she gripped his hair, keeping his head in place.

He inserted a second finger, his tongue on her clit moving accordingly to the delighted sounds she emitted.

“Tom,” she cried urgently as she tried to press herself harder against him.

He curled his fingers inside of her and her hips jolted upwards, arching her back to an uncomfortable angle as she reached her orgasm with lascivious bliss, her obscene moans matching the wet sounds he produced by licking her until she came down from her climax.

“Tom,” she said again, so breathless her voice was a raspy whisper.

“I know,” he said, kissing her leg and inhaling deeply, like he was trying to commit the moment to memory.

He brought his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean as she let her watch.

She gently pushed him onto the carpet, bracing her hands on his shoulder as she sat on top of him. The fire was burning, enveloping their almost naked figures in warm orange light, heating their already scalding skin.

She took off her blouse with quivery hands, his gaze tracing her naked form that was slowly revealing itself. She hooked her fingers into the straps of her slip, pulling it down and then getting rid of it altogether. His hands on her waist tensed as she did the same for her bra.

Her lips parted as he touched her breast with both hands, kneading the soft flesh, tracing her areolae. 

She undid his trousers, pulling down the fabric until they were both completely naked. She took him in her hand, her fingers closing tentatively around him. Her hand started sliding up and down, her pace getting quicker and more confident as moans escaped him. She brushed her thumb on his tip, her eyes admiring what was in front of her. His lips were swollen, residue of her lipstick still on them, his hair was tousled, curls falling disorderly on his forehead, his eyes heavy-lidded as he looked at her. She felt a rush of satisfaction in knowing his current state was her doing, that she had enough power over him to ruin his flawless exterior, to make him want her to do it. 

His lips caught hers and he gently pushed her hand away. 

What happened after felt like rehearsed choreography, something so familiar it was impossible to forget. Their bodies moved together, their movements responsive to each other, doing and touching exactly where it mattered.

She pushed herself up on her knees, slowly lowering herself until she sank down on him completely, shuddering breaths escaping her lips.

His jaw was tense as she placed a hand on his shoulder for support, positioning herself better.

She didn’t break eye contact as she rolled her hips, soaking in the hazy blue of his eyes, in every twitch of his jaw and emotion he was feeling as she increased her pace, in his voice murmuring her name against her ear as his hands squeezed her tights and traced her back.

Skin slapped against skin, his touch inebriating as he felt every part of her, caressing her, massaging her, kissing her until she couldn’t take it anymore. Almost.

His hand dipped between her legs again, stroking her clit as she rocked her hips, eliciting groans from both of them.

Sentiment and pleasure fused together in an exhilarating moment, seared in her mind and flesh forever.

She kissed him again - she could never get tired of that - and bit his lower lip roughly as his other hand went to her breast again, pulling at her nipple. 

She threw her head back, letting his mouth scrape over her neck and chest, leaving behind scorching wet kisses. Or perhaps those were marks reddening her skin, she didn’t particularly care.

He gripped her waist, thrusting upwards as she held onto him tighter. Her nails drew half-moons into his back and she bit his neck, the fibres of the carpet scratching her knees.

The lights in the flat fluttered momentarily.

His fingers increased the pressure on her clit as his thrusts grew in intensity with one purpose in mind. 

She bit her lip, trying to hold back, to prolong this instant of pure bliss before she inevitably plummeted onto the other side.

She arched her back, moving accordingly to his rhythm, her hips bucking erratic as she rubbed against his pelvis. 

And then she fell down, unrestrained, her walls closing around him as she moaned uncontrollably. He didn’t stop, drawing circles on her sensitive skin until her breath found a semblance of steadiness again. 

“You did so good,” he whispered against her forehead, brushing a strand of sweaty hair away.

She slumped against him, her hands grabbing onto his biceps as he chased his own pleasure, his movements turning frantic, losing his rhythm.

She found herself murmuring against his skin the same things she had never had the courage to say out loud, not even to herself. She wasn’t sure he was even listening to her, engrossed as he was, but it didn’t matter.

He squeezed her tights once and she understood, rolling to the side as he deftly touched himself, fast strokes that culminated in white spurts all over his hand. She watched him mesmerised

He turned to look at her, his chest rising and falling rapidly. The fire casted shadows on his gorgeous face. 

They stayed like that for a long moment, gazing into each other, trying to guess what the other was thinking, making sense of what remained of themselves after what had just happened.

Did it have the same momentous effect on both of them? Or was it just her that knew she couldn’t go back to being acquaintances after this?

“Do you want to stay here tonight?” she asked. Her voice sounded faint and husky to her own ears.

“I do,” he replied without a second of hesitation.

They didn’t get up, instead resting against the foot of her sofa. She curled up against him as his hand traced indistinct patterns on her skin, remaining in this haze of indiscernible unspoken feelings they were both still trying to find a name for. 

When she woke up the next morning he was gone. As she took in the cold sheets and missing clothes, her heart threatened to crack.

She got up groggily, conclusions already forming in her mind, building the most pessimistic of pictures.

She felt anxious as she wore her robe and opened the door, heading straight for the bathroom. Halfway down the corridor, the sound of someone flipping through a newspaper halted her in her steps.

She stepped into the kitchen, finding Tom sitting in a chair with his legs crossed.

“Good morning,” he said.

“Good morning,” she said back, adjusting the belt of her robe. 

She noticed he had made breakfast, a steaming coffee pot, kept warm by magic, and some pastries she had never bought waiting for her on the table. 

She turned to take a mug from a cabinet so that she could hide her smitten smile. When she closed the cabinet, she found him looking at her.

There was no need for words.

“Where did you get that?” she asked as she poured herself some coffee, referring to the newspaper. 

“I stole it from your neighbour, I hope she won’t mind.”

She laughed. “So you know how to make a joke.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

She sat next to him, crossing her legs. She perhaps needed to rethink her choice of slippers.

“You were always so serious growing up.”

She put a spoonful of sugar in her coffee. 

“That never seemed to deter you.”

“It doesn’t.”

He took a sip of his own coffee. “Good.”

“Does it deter you, knowing how I feel?”

He blinked. “It never had. It makes it more interesting if I have to be honest.”

She blushed, scared to ask the next question.

“How long have you known?”

He got up, brushing his knuckles on her cheek.

“Long enough to see you for who you truly are.” 

He bent to give her a chaste kiss. “I should go, the shop opens in half an hour.”

He put on his coat and grabbed his leather gloves from his pocket. She turned in her chair, treasuring the last few moments of him in her apartment.

“There’s still a lot you haven’t learned yet.” 

She refused to be an open book to him. There was so much about her that was still incomprehensible even to her and too much she wanted to show him on her own terms. She wanted to be enigmatic, to drive him mad.

“I know.”

Her disappointment was visible on her face as she was met with his silence. She had wanted to continue that conversation, to learn what he had observed.

Instead he opened her front door, throwing her one last glance, heavy with unsaid intention she hoped she wasn’t imagining, before leaving. 

She had almost finished her breakfast when she noticed a small note under the newspaper he had left behind. She grabbed it faster than she was willing to admit, almost knocking over her cup in the process, and unfolded it.

“Dinner tonight?

I’ll pick you up at eight.

T.R.”

the last part is a bonus scene i wanted to write to apologize for my tardiness. tom is a little different, but I hope he isn't too out of character.

i honestly had so much fun writing this short story and exploring a different tom from the one i usually read and write about. i hope you enjoyed this and thank you for reading!

[f1-stuff]

Girl dad Carlos please! I miss that fic so much 🥲

Okay. So.

I mustered up the energy to write a little vignette of this AU bc I also miss it and bc I didn't want to leave you two hanging! This is skipping ahead quite a bit to halfway through the season, but I'm still planning on writing and fleshing out that portion. I've just known for a while that this was gonna be an important part of the story and that I could jump into writing it right away!

It will probably be edited and adjusted for when the actual chapter is posted on ao3, but this is the 'rough draft' I guess! (Disclaimer: I know zero French and I haven’t had someone look over that bit yet!)

Anyway, enjoyyyy...

When there’s a knock on his door about two weeks into the summer break, his brain doesn’t compute for a full minute after he’s opened it.

Because why would Charles, his teammate, be here? In Spain? At his apartment? During their summer holiday, when they’re supposed to be ignoring any and all people and things related to F1, recharging their batteries, and remembering there’s more to life than racing cars? He and Charles have barely ever even texted during the summer break, let alone seen one another. So, again, why would Charles be at his front door.

Also, he’s a bit sleep deprived and delirious, so there’s every chance he’s hallucinating this.

“Uh...” he says, rather eloquently.

“Hey,” Charles says. And there’s a tentative smile on his face that Carlos can’t even begin to parse the meaning of. His brain isn’t just one step behind, it’s five steps. “Can...I come in?”

“Oh.” Again. Eloquent, Sainz. “Eh- yeah. Yes. Come in.”

“Sorry to stop by without a warning,” Charles is saying. But Carlos is too busy looking around in barely disguised panic at the absolute trash heap that is his home.

It’s not that he didn’t realize how much of a mess the apartment was before, but he sees it now through Charles’ eyes and feels a little like curling up and dying. There are bowls of half eaten food and dirty dishes piled in and around the sink. Various toys, games, books, and drawings are strewn over almost every surface, along with clothes (mostly socks, so many socks) littering the floor. Boxes and boxes of Lucy’s things that he hasn’t had time to sort through are stacked against the walls and in the corners. One of the only exposed walls by the couch has colorful marker all over it, Ana having done that particular masterpiece when he’d accidentally nodded off during Peppa Pig. (He’d been too tired to even properly get angry about it, which was perhaps a bad precedent to set if he didn’t want a repeat performance.)

It looks like a tornado has swept through his apartment. A tornado named Ana.

Not that Charles is much neater on a good day, and he doesn’t even have a kid as an excuse. But Carlos has a feeling that if this is the current state of his apartment, the state of his own appearance is probably no better. He hasn’t properly showered, shaved, or slept in days, and he doesn’t think he’s looked in the mirror in all that time either. For all he knows, he’s still got remnants of the braids Ana put in his hair yesterday. He certainly can’t remember taking them out...

Charles, on the other hand, looks fresh and groomed and sunkissed - everything Carlos would expect during the summer break.

He smells good, he thinks, unbidden. Then, immediately, Stop it.

Charles takes in the space around them, his eyes eventually settling on Carlos with an amused (and maybe slightly concerned) expression. But just as he’s opening his mouth to speak, there’s the sound of the bathroom door opening down the hall and the smattering of tiny feet running across the floor, before Ana declares in her tiny, yet surprisingly bold voice, “I didn’t have a diarrhea!”

Carlos doesn’t even have enough shame left to be embarrassed by his kid. His first instinct is just relief.

“Stomach virus,” he mumbles to Charles, by way of explanation. Then, to Ana, in Spanish, “That’s great, mi niña! Did you wash your hands?”

“Yeeeees!”

“Are you sure?”

“Uh-huh!”

“Good, because we, eh- we have a guest!”

It’s quiet for a moment, before Ana’s head pokes around the corner slowly. But her face lights up as soon as she sees who it is.

“Cha!” she shouts, but then immediately looks embarrassed by her own show of excitement.

“Coucou, Ana,” Charles says, amused. He kneels down and encourages Ana closer, accepting the tentative hug she gives him.

No matter how much they had bonded last time, it’s still been a while since they’ve seen one another, and some of Ana’s shyness has clearly returned. Still, it’s huge that she’s even initiated a hug, and Carlos feels a telltale twinge in his sternum at the image they both make.

“As-tu été bon pour papa?” Charles asks, cuffing her gently on the chin. Ana grins and nods. “J'ai un cadeau pour toi.”

Charles reaches into a bag that Carlos hadn’t even noticed he’d been carrying until he’d set it down to hug Ana, and he pulls out a pink rectangular thing, that Carlos squints in confusion at for a beat. He realizes what it is simultaneously with Charles’ next words.

“C'est une caméra. Pour que tu prennes des photos de ton papa.”

It’s a pink camera for kids, a unicorn adorning the front where the lens peeks out. Carlos almost rolls his eyes - of course Charles, with his recent photography kick, gifts his kid a camera. But the way Ana’s expression transforms with wonder as Charles demonstrates to her how it works is pretty precious.

Charles hands it over to her and she immediately points it at him. He pulls a silly expression, making her giggle. They both examine the photo, heads bowed close. Ana points it up at Carlos next.

“¡Sonríe, papá!”

He sticks out his tongue and her little finger presses the capture button. The joy on her face as the photo pops up on the screen, tilting it to show them even though it’s upside down, fills Carlos with so much warmth and love that he legitimately almost tears up.

God, he’s so freaking tired.

Ana bounds off to her room to gather her stuffed toys to take a ‘family picture,’ and Charles straightens back up, smile lingering on his cheeks even after Ana has disappeared down the hall.

Carlos wants to kiss him so bad. Becoming a father has turned him into such a sap.

“Ehm,” he clears his throat. “Thank you. That was- a nice gift.”

“No problems.”

“You know, you don’t have to buy her something every time you see her,” he says, humor lacing his words.

“I want to,” Charles insists, simply. They smile awkwardly for an extended beat, listening to the sounds of Ana down the hall in her room, talking to her animals. Charles’ eyes stray to his hair. “You have...something in your hair. Is that a braid-?”

“What are you doing here, Charles?” he asks, choosing to ignore the comment. “I thought you would be in Corsica, or somewhere.”

“I was. But I heard you and Ana had to cancel on the trip to Mallorca and-”

“Heard, how?” Charles looks sheepish, triggering his suspicion. So he repeats it. “Heard, how, Charles?”

“Your mum texted me-” 

He sighs, eyes shutting briefly in frustration. He wishes his mom would just stay out of this whole- thing with Charles. But, clearly, she knew he wouldn’t accept help from anyone else. And that he wouldn’t be able to turn Charles away…

“She didn’t tell me to come,” Charles rushes to say. “She was just worried because you refused to let her stay and help, and that you hadn’t found a sitter, or someone, yet. So I just offered-”

“Charles, please...” He breaks off with another sigh, rubbing his temples to stave off the oncoming headache. But it’s already too late, if the subtle pulsating pain, slowly increasing in intensity, is anything to go by. “You should not have come.”

“Carlos, don’t be stupid,” he scoffs. “Anyway, I am here.” And he supposes that’s true. Nothing can be done about it now. “You look tired.”

He huffs a small laugh, dropping his hands from his temples to meet Charles’ gaze.

“This is what someone looks like when their kid catches a stomach virus and then they catch that same virus from their kid, just when their kid is starting to feel better-”

“Why didn’t you let your mum help-?”

“I’m her dad,” he interrupts, breathing hard. But he softens his voice with his next words. “I can do this on my own. I just wanted to...”

He doesn’t really know how to finish that sentence, though. It sounds stubborn and stupid when he starts to say it out loud. None of this should be about him. It’s about Ana. And if he’d really needed help, he should’ve asked for it. For her.

Charles seems to know that he doesn’t have to say it - that Carlos is already thinking it. So, instead, he just claps a hand to his shoulder and squeezes.

“I think,” he says, “-you should get some rest.”

“Charles-”

“No, I’m serious. Go to your room, Mister Sainz.” A slow grin pulls over his features. And along with the genuine concern in his eyes, it’s almost enough to break through Carlos’ resolve. “You are exhausted. Ana will be fine - I will watch her. Just...rest for a minute. Okay? You don’t look like yourself.”

And he knows that must be true. He knows that he needs a lot more than just a few hours of sleep to feel somewhere close to normal again (a shower would be a good start). But it’s hard to even think of himself when he’s been so worried about Ana for days - researching how to get her fever to die down, trying to get her to drink fluids, watching her fitful face in sleep, his heart in his throat despite how the pediatrician had assured him she’d be fine.

But, then, he’d gotten sick, too. And instead of focusing on his own recovery, he’d had to fit in sessions of retching over the toilet in between caring for his kid and making sure she was properly fed. And the two of them had managed, even if it wasn’t ideal. They’d grown closer, he thought, by virtue of her needing him so much.

He couldn’t keep it together forever, though. Eventually, if he didn’t take a break, he’d fall apart completely.

It takes him a stubborn moment, the urge to argue bubbling up inside despite how glorious resting his head on a pillow sounds. But eventually he nods, releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Thank you.”

Charles just looks at him with a mixture of fondness and exasperation. “You are welcome, Carlos. Now, go. You look like you are going to fall over at any moment.”

“I feel like I’m going to fall over at any moment.”

Charles laughs under his breath, pushing Carlos’ shoulder gently to aim him toward the hallway. “Well, fall over into bed, then.”

“I’m going,” he insists, letting his tired limbs and the heavy touch of Charles at his shoulder guide him toward his room.

He can deal with how insane this situation is - Charles showing up here, and what the hell it means that he’d come at all - once he’s had some sleep. For now, he’ll happily take it for granted.

He doesn’t even really remember climbing into bed before the exhaustion takes over, his body surrendering to fatigue now that he knows his kid’s in good hands. Trustworthy hands. Charles’ hands.

He thinks he can hear the faint sounds of their French floating down the hallway. It makes him smile with the last vestiges of energy he has left.

God, he is in so over his head.

----

WIP ask game

Link to fic on ao3 -> (x)

[tourettesdog]

DPxDC Prompt where when Jason is resurrected, he does not become fully conscious. He lays in his coffin, at rest while his body slowly absorbs the ambient ectoplasm of Gotham and tries to fix the improper formation of his core.

The rest is not altogether peaceful. He often has nightmares, and has no way of escaping them. The ambient ectoplasm in Gotham is sustaining Jason, but what repairs the ectoplasm is managing are agonizingly slow.

-

Danny has been living in Gotham for awhile, having moved there with Jazz as soon as she turned 18. Gotham has its own host of ghosts, but Danny feels at ease without the constant strain of ghost fights.

That is, until he feels something amiss in the Gotham cemetery.

The cemetery feels wrong, in a way Danny can't place. It reminds him of Amity, how restless it is-- only different. Wrong. He keeps visiting the cemetery, trying to find the source of that feeling. The entire graveyard is saturated with it, and all Danny can do is sit in the graveyard and talk into the quiet. He lets emotions flood from his core, trying to exude an air of calm that might settle whatever restless spirit haunts the grounds.

It works, at least. The sense of restless agitation eases when Danny flares his core, settling into a quiet comfort.

It becomes stronger, too. Danny can feel it coming from a newer section of the graveyard, and he curiously wonders why he's drawn more and more to a single line of headstones.

Wonders why the one on the end seems to stand out, the name Jason Peter Todd burning itself into his dreams.

Wonders why he feels a kinship with this boy's grave, when he can't even see a ghost attached to it or feel any resonance of a core. Nothing stronger than the blob ghosts that haunt the grounds, at least.

Only ever those strange emotions and that restless energy that quiets with the sooth of his own core.

Yet one day when Danny visits the graveyard and flares his core, he's startled when another one answers his.

-

[I originally posted this prompt in the Batpham server and it ended here, but several of us expanded on it and what I’m posting after this are the additions I added in that discussion, some of it edited.] Jason never actually digs out of his grave. When he finally awakens and tries to dig at the coffin he actually slips through it into the soil above. A hand thrusts its way through the soil and pulls him the rest of the way up

Danny is the only one present when Jason comes out of his grave-- when he pulls him free, a ghostly inversion of Robin who he knows to be a halfa. In his confused state, however, Jason does not linger in the cemetery. He runs off, and even though Danny's half ghost and can get around fast, Jason is now too and knows the city well enough that he manages to slip away. He's terrified, confused beyond reason, and hiding.

Jason hangs about the city, and at times he goes up on his favorite gargoyle to think-- and that's the first time Babs sees him. She thinks it's just a mistake-- her own imagination-- because as soon as she looks again, he's gone.

But it keeps happening. Dick swears he sees Jason near the manor grounds when he goes to visit. Alfred swears he sees him in the rear view mirror of the car one day. Tim swears he sees him while heading home one night. Bruce sees him on patrol, long enough for the two to lock eyes, but before Bruce can even open his mouth he's gone. And Danny isn't helping, because he's Looking for Jason still, trying to help, and this suspicious kid keeps turning up in the weirdest places and at a glance he looks like Jason too.

And it fucks with Bruce's head so badly. He can't say anything about it for days, and when he shakily admits it to Alfred the butler tells him he saw the same thing-- and when the others also share this, all of it lining up too perfectly, that's when Bruce approaches the grave and finds it empty.

During this, Jason naturally grows more bold after his initial shock and confusion dies down. He's a bold and smart kid, even if he's confused and afraid. He's just trying to investigate and see how Gotham (and his family) are doing and figure out how he can approach Bruce. He sees Tim and can’t help but feel forgotten and replaced, but without the rage from the pit he's trying to be a bit more level-headed and think things through.

Jason is also learning more about his new physiology, which keeps him distracted and his mind busy. Trying to figure out himself as much as those around him. But some things still haunt him and cannot be so easily ignored.

An encounter with the Joker sets Jason off.

Jason sees the Joker and that rage and hurt builds inside of him and he manages something similar to a wail. It's the most broken sound Danny's ever heard. It's nothing like his wail, it's more like choking and static and more a feeling in the chest than a sound. Jason died from inhaling smoke and didn't have any dying screams. It’s a shattered, raw wall of reverberating emotion that has no justice.

And Danny goes to it-- stumbling, because it's raw enough to punch at his core-- and he just finds the kid he's been looking for knelt on the ground, keening and sobbing his heart out. Danny goes to comfort him, tentatively wrapping an arm around him while they're surrounded by Wreckage (and a clown-shaped dead body).

And when the bats get there they finally get a good look at the specter they've been seeing all around Gotham, and it's absolutely Jason-- with another boy beside him... And the Joker's body, twisted and bloody. But when Bruce gets close, Jason startles, visibly terrified and hurt, and Danny hides them both from view and whisks Jason away to hide him.

Bruce let the Joker live-- and now Jason has killed the man and that horrified expression he caught on Bruce's face won't leave his head. He feels like a monster, destroyed with grief and hurt, and doesn't know what to do.

Danny takes Jason home, and he’s just a fucking Mess. When they get to the apartment Jazz is just about to leave. She was sleeping but the reverberating “wail” woke her and she’s been in a mad dash to grab all of their weapons to storm out and see what the hell has happened.

But right before she can leave, Danny appears with Jason in tow and all of Jazz's questions die on her tongue when she catches sight of the kid. Danny's told her a lot about Jason since he first met him-- and about the cemetery even before then-- and she's been trying to give advice and help out in whatever was she can from a distance. And now, seeing this kid actually here and just the sheer wreck that he is, she can't help but feel fiercely protective of him. She doesn't even know what happened down in the streets, just that Jason's in distress and needs help.

No questions asked, she helps Danny sit him down on the couch, wrap a blanket around him, and make some hot chocolate to try and get him to relax. She certainly has plenty of questions she Wants to ask, but that's not what's important right now. Right now she just has two severely shaken boys that need a safe place and time to calm down.

And even once she knows what happened, Jazz is nothing but supportive. Hell, she's happy to see the Joker is gone, but she doesn't focus on that because it's also not what's important. Instead she just does what she can to make a comfortable space and lets Jason know she's there to listen if he needs to talk.

And at first Jason is hesitant around Jazz-- and alarmed at first that Danny brought him to someone he doesn't know-- but Jazz is so patient and understanding. Jason can't help but relax around her. In a way it hurts, because it reminds him of his own family, but he'd rather have this than nothing, not knowing what reception he'd get back at the manor.

Danny's terrified Batman will want to hunt them both down. He knows this kid used to be Robin, but Jason's own reactions to Batman aren't making Danny feel more secure. If anything, he has a bone to pick with Batman himself now.

And Bruce is just left to reflect on what's happened, knowing that something of his son is still lingering. And he can't stop thinking of that Feeling the wail Jason made left in his chest. He keeps going back to his empty grave, hoping he might find him there. Hoping he might get to apologize to more than just the flowers.

Danny finds Bruce at the grave-- as Bruce, not Batman-- and he puts it together. He thinks he already knew it too, since while he refused to look up Jason Todd's name, it's Too Familiar.

Danny confronting Bruce angrily, expecting the man to rise to his challenge, but all he's met with is just a grieving father who desperately wants to see his son again.

And Bruce recognizes this kid and knows Danny knows where Jason is, but instead of demanding to know where he is he just asks if his son is okay. Because after feeling that wail and seeing what he saw that day, Bruce knows Jason must resent him. He doesn't even know what Jason is anymore, but he knows he's still the kid he loved and he's hurt and Bruce doesn't think he can fix that. He just wants to know if he's okay, and for Danny to tell him that he's sorry. That if Jason ever want to come home, the door will always be open.

Jason is terrified too cause he truly wanted to kill the Joker, but he didn't expect to If he was going to kill him, it would be in a way he could feel with his hands. But the way he did it was in an uncontrollable show of power that he's not sure he could have stopped.

And Danny keeps trying to reassure him that he not only will get a better hold on his powers, but that he's not a monster. That what happened wouldn't repeat itself because the only reason it happened in the first place was because that was the man who Killed Jason and ghosts are emotional beings. It’s still a struggle.

Unfortunately, the Fentons make their way to Gotham. News of what is clearly a ghost killing a person-- villain or not-- is big enough to reach them in Amity. Jazz and Danny were only in Gotham because the parents couldn’t stomach their son being Phantom-- assumed Phantom was overshadowing Danny and turned a moment of trust into one of betrayal. The siblings were trying to lay low, but... well it was Phantom that was seen with the other ghost.

The Fenton parents come to the town with an entire Arsenal and approach the Batman, going on and on about ghosts, how dangerous they are, and in particular how dangerous These ghosts are. They lament about the Death of their own son, and the entire time Bruce is just-- shocked. He wasn't even sure what Jason was, and while the word ghost does seem to fit it still feels like his heart breaking all over again.

And he can't forget how broken Jason seemed, and how protective this Phantom was of his son. He doesn't believe the Fentons, but he does Fear them. He fears what they might do, and that's when he learns about the GIW and that these people are acting Lawfully in telling him, to his face, that they want to hunt down his son.

[sleepiexx]

Friday Nights

Valeria Garza x fem!reader

Note: It’s been a while lol, writing has been such a chore lately it’s my passion so I refuse to give up on it. I’m working on a part two to Everything is Falling Apart, but I know it’s going to take a while so here’s this short little piece to tide y’all over until I do get around to finishing, editing, and posting it

Summary: You meet an alluring woman at the club you frequent.

Warnings: alcohol, clubbing, nothing angsty tho

Word count: 1033

The music is loud, the room is bathed in a mix of colorful light and shadows from bodies tightly packed together. A buzz resounds, chatter, laughter, fun. Yeah, this is your scene alright.

You could dance the night away with your friends, and from the moment you put on the outfit which flattered all of your best features, you knew that that was exactly what you intended to do. The smell of sweat and perfume was one you knew well, and as your brow glistened you felt right at home.

The compact feeling of the dance floor could make someone feel claustrophobic, like they were being suffocated by the touching of dozens of bodies against one another. To you, the feeling was a comfort, a grounding touch that was promised at the end of every week no matter how rough. It was a feeling you could only pull yourself away from for one reason.

The effect of the shots you took hours ago began to fade and you couldn’t have that, your night is hardly over. This is what lures you away. You alert one of your friends that you are headed to the bar before slipping your way through the crowd. The bartender knows you well, you frequent and she works Friday nights so she sees you often, often enough to know that you want a little something that’s fruity but strong. She switches it up every time, just like you like. Some part of you used to have a crush on her, but you aren’t naive and you know how to spot a straight woman. A shame, really, you never find anyone cute to go home with at this place.

Maybe your confidence is intimidating, maybe your outfits are too bold, or maybe, just maybe, you have a hard time getting asked out because you spend too much time dancing to talk and you’re always, always with your girls, never alone. Save for the frequent trips you make to the bar for another round.

The bartender places your drink in front of you, and you reach into your purse in search of your wallet. Not one to keep an ongoing tab, you usually opt to pay for each drink individually, that way you don’t go too crazy on the spending. It seems this time you don’t have to worry about that, though, because a hand is placed on your shoulder, stopping you, as a smooth voice says “this one’s on me.”

You see the woman hand the bartender her card and you turn to her, having to hold yourself back from audibly gasping. She’s gorgeous, strong cheekbones and long lashes, framed by dark shoulder length hair. Not to mention her impeccable style, she wears loose black slacks and combat boots, but the main feature that has caught your attention is her shirt. A dark red satin button up, the sleeves rolled up and the buttons so generously undone, giving you a view that you struggle not to stare at. The red looks good against her warm skin tone and you can’t tell which you’d rather touch, the silky shirt, or her smooth skin.

You realize you’ve been staring entirely too long, scolding yourself for half a second before smiling and thanking the woman for the drink.

“I haven’t seen you around here before,” you say, desperate to keep the conversation going. You finally have an opportunity to flirt with a stunning woman and by god are you going to take it.

She smiles at you, eyes smug, you can tell she knows she has you hooked and a part of you really likes that idea. “I could say the same.”

You furrow your brows, trying to think if you have ever seen her before. You draw a blank, “I’m here almost every Friday.”

She hums, “I’m here Wednesdays, guess I’ll have to change up my schedule. You come here alone or?”

“With friends,” you point to your girls, “nothing takes the edge off the week quite like dancing the second the weekend starts. What’s got you coming on Wednesdays? Unconventional work schedule?”

She laughs, eyes half lidded, “something like that.”

You bat your lashes at her and she wonders if you know what power you hold with just a blink of your eyes, it prompts her to elaborate

“I own the place,” half of her is just answering your question, the other half is flat out bragging in hopes to impress you.

“Seriously?” The smirk on her face leads you to believe she’s messing with you but she nods. You want to stare slack jawed but you refrain, instead smiling wide and responding, “well then I’d better stay on your good side, it’s a nice establishment you run here.”

“A business is only as nice as the people in it,” her eyes trace your figure from bottom to top, you spot a hungry looking glint, “and, well, if you frequent then I suppose I run the nicest establishment in town.”

The line was cheesy, yet still you find your knees weak along with the feeling of blood rushing to your face.

“You uhm-“ you stumble over your words, hoping to god you don’t sound as anxious and giddy as you feel. Your intense eye contact makes up for it, ensnaring the woman before you, “you like to dance?”

Her smirk grows, shifting into something more like a smile, “I love to, you?”

“Yeah me too.” You cautiously take one of her hands, continuing to hold eye contact as you gently pull her in the direction you’d come from, “I’m y/n, by the way.”

As your feet meet the dance floor, she pulls you close, her hands meeting your hips as they’d been aching to do since she’d seen you standing there at the bar. She can dance well, you can tell before you’ve even started, her stance is impeccable and there’s not a hint of hesitation on her. You know you’ve got a full night ahead of you, and you don’t find yourself complaining, “Valeria.”

You repeat it, tasting her name on your tongue. It sounds good, so very good, “I like it.”

And there it is again, that smirk.

[hughesmedicine]

“besties” | c. mcward

cole mcward x !hughes sister

a/n: sorry that the ending is rushed! I’ve had this in the drafts for months but here it is also got a jack insta edit coming soon!

made this for @starsandhughes 🫶🏻

ynhughes

liked by _quinnhughes, colemcward, _eliaspettersson and others.

ynhughes trip to van was a need🤟❤️

tagged: _quinnhughes, colemcward, _eliaspettersson

load more comments..

colemcward please come back you left me with these lunatics!

ynhughes omw! one test is okay to miss

jackhughes don’t skip the test stay home and wait till summer.

ynhughes ugh sorry cole I’m being forced to stay!

colemcward boo you stink jack.

ynhughes ^

jackhughes don’t agree with him!

ynhughes sorry but it’s in my contract that I have to agree with him when it comes to you

jackhughes what contract??

ynhughes canucks contract! guess who signed 🤭

jackhughes don’t play with my feelings.

lhughes_06 why are you guys posing with a dog? who’s dog is that?😭

ynhughes erm found her on the side of the road!

colemcward yep that’s totally how we found her!

lhughes_06 you guys kidnapped the dog didn’t you?.

ynhughes not exactly!

lhughes_06 not exactly? do tell

ynhughes erm sorry I’ll die in those trenches.

colemcward yeah me too.

_quinnhughes please come back

ynhughes dude I literally left 30 minutes ago, you’ll be fine

_quinnhughes no I won’t!

ynhughes fine I’ll come back

elblue6 y/f/n y/m/n hughes you better not go back and get on that plane, you have a game tomorrow.

ynhughes yes mom! I’ll send you picture updates of the view out the window so you know.

_quinnhughes she can skip it.

elblue6 quintin jerome hughes she can’t and stop trying to convince her she can.

_quinnhughes alright got it sorry mom!

tylerduke so anybody find it weird that it’s all cole on the top?

ynhughes what?? no it’s not all cole on the top, there’s also me!

lhughes_06 stop that is pretty weird, anything you need to tell us y/n.

jackhughes yeah is there??

_quinnhughes guys stop there’s nothing going on with them

ynhughes yeah what quinn said, cole and I are just certified besties🤟

colecaulfield yeah “besties”

ynhughes shut up cole!

jackhughes COLE WHAT DO YOU KNOW?!

colecaulfield nothing!

jackhughes expect Luke and I at your door tomorrow, already bought flight tickets.

ynhughes better change your locks. (cause of my brothers but also me.)

colecaulfield if anybody needs me I’ll be on a flight to disclosed location where y/n can’t find me and where the three brothers can’t either.

ynhughes bold of you to assume I can’t find you, you’re currently booking a flight for Japan

colecaulfield I’m terrified of you.

colemcward

liked by ynhughes, tykerduke, _quinnhughes and others.

colemcward finally can post my favorite photos of my girl, I love you so much thank you for the visit and the dates (I beat her at hockey and she won’t admit it!)

tagged ynhughes

load more comments..

ynhughes he’s lying nobody beats me at hockey(just ask matthew or brady! they’ll tell you the truth )

matthew.tkachuk she’s right nobody beats her

colemcward lame you could’ve taken my side!

matthew.tkachuk and get hit with her hockey stick during games? I’m good you’re on your own during this one kid

jackhughes ahem @/_quinnhughes quoting you “guys stop there’s nothing going on with them” how stupid do you feel right now!

lhughes_06 gonna need to hear him actually say “I’m so stupid for thinking there’s nothing going on between them”

ynhughes actually I need to hear this too

colemcward same so babe come here quickly

ynhughes don’t rush me but coming

_quinnhughes YOURE STILL IN VANCOUVER?! You better come see me right now.

titobeavui91 sorry but she’s currently visiting me with Cole so you’ll have to wait your turn.

_quinnhughes I know where you live so I’ll be there soon

trevorzegras ew you guys are sick (cute but sick)

ynhughes call it sick again and that hockey stick you gave me will be finding a new home and it’s not appropriate enough to say online!

trevorzegras I’m sorry you guys aren’t sick! I love your relationship so much and it’s so cute, best nhl couple ever!

ynhughes thanks bestie love you!

colecaulfield FINALLY now I can post all the cute sick pictures I took of you guys when you came to visit me!

ynhughes thanks cole! (send them to me!)

trevorzegras he can call you sick cute but I can’t??

ynhughes actually he called the pictures sick cute not us! Think you getting bashed into the boards is messing up your reading , do I need to help you with that again?

trevorzegras oh I’m so cross checking you.

ynhughes try it you won’t be able to!

jamiedrysdale and you hit him in the spot, love it💀

ynhughes me too! If he hugs a stick and cry again send it to me!

tylerduke now you guys should come see me! I miss our trio

ynhughes booking a ticket right now sorry @/_quinnhughes skipping our dinner tonight and captain cole won’t be at practice tomorrow!

colemcward we’ll be there soon Ty!

tylerduke thank god I need y/n to keep me sane around the umich boys.

markestapa all of us are offended, we are not that bad!

ynhughes you are.

lhughes_06 she’s right sorry guys

markestapa don’t come back now.

ynhughes too late tickets are bought!

[alexawynters]

Scarlet Whispers pt. 9

A/N: Apparently I wrote two chapters of smut back to back so uhhh.. here's a second chapter of terribly written smut. Anyway sorry for the delay in posting schedule for like.. two weeks. I don't have much of an excuse, as most of this was already written in advance, just briefly editing before posting. But I moved recently, and there was some roommate drama with moving out, and just in general moving bullshit. Plus my last job was refusing to cooperate with my ADA (despite the fact that doing so landed me in the hospital for a fucking week...) so I fortunately was able to land a new job that's hybrid. However I did just start it so like.. super busy with training and getting settled in to the new place. Plus trying to make sure I dedicate time to my gf since we're on different continents so like.. timezones are a bitch lol.

Gif not mine, as always

Trigger Warnings: Smuttttttt. Horribly written smut.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female!Reader

Rating: M. Minors DNI

Masterlist with parts 1-8 here

The next few days were absolute bliss for you. You were certain of your feelings for the former Avenger and knew that she felt the same way about you. This newfound confidence allowed you to freely express your affection. While you had been somewhat clingy in the past, you had never been this openly affectionate before with anyone, always afraid it would be used against you somehow.

As usual Wanda would cook for both of you, and with your desire to be closer to her at the forefront of your mind, you would inevitably find a way to snuggle into her arms, even if it wasn’t per se the most convenient. Wanda had already reassured you she didn’t mind, always welcoming any chance to be close to you. Now was one such example. Letting out a sigh as she wrapped one arm around you and kissed the top of your head. While she stirred the food, you tilted your head and gazed happily at the slightly taller woman who held you.

Curious green eyes observed you thoughtfully, wondering what brought on this bout of cuddliness. Seizing the opportunity with the witch's face so close to yours, you leaned up and gave Wanda a chaste kiss on the lips before burying your blushing face in her chest. The older woman chuckled softly at how adorably shy you were and embraced you even tighter.

While eating and conversing, you found yourself insisting on maintaining physical contact with the witch. Thighs brushing against each other, and at one point you were feeling particularly bold and rested your hand on her thigh. The witch couldn't be happier about this development and even going so far as to lace her fingers with yours, bringing a contented smile to your face. At one point, Wanda could swear that you were wiggling in place while she was playing with your hair. As she subtly glanced behind you, she half expected to find a tail wagging there. It was only a mild disappointment there wasn’t. 

The definition of golden retriever girlfriend, you were such a puppy, and it was adorable. It seemed like you couldn't get enough, following Wanda around the house and even the grounds whenever she got up to take care of things. Despite her reassurances that you could continue whatever activity you were engaged in, you were insistent upon helping. Every step of the way, you offered your assistance, basking in the witch’s presence and happy to be helpful. Whenever your skin happened to touch, even briefly, a pleasurable shiver would run down your spine, making whatever chore you were working on even something as mundane as gardening (a green thumb, you were not) worth it.

Not once did Wanda deter your need for affection, doing her best in fact to reward it at every opportunity. Part of it was for her own selfish reasons, she always relished in your touch. A larger part however was an attempt to heal your inner child. She recalled your painful memories she had witnessed where your attempts at garnering affection from your family were rudely and oftentimes even violently rebuffed. This caused you to believe that’s how all requests for affection would be received, leading you at a young age to stop seeking affection from anyone going forward. 

Now, if you reached out to Wanda, she would return your touch reassuringly, even going so far sometimes to pull you into an embrace or press her lips to yours. The witch never wanted you to question whether she would accept your touch ever again. Anything she could do to associate positive feelings with your attempts at affection, Wanda would give. Every time she did, she was rewarded when you practically vibrated with happiness in her arms.

For the first time in your life, you felt safe and dare you say it, happy. Wanda truly was everything you could ever hope for in a partner: devoted, caring, and attentive. You weren’t sure whether it was her magic, or simply how attuned she was to you - seeming to anticipate your wants and needs almost before you yourself even realized them. It had been this way before you two had slept together, but something about this added layer of trust and intimacy you never in your wildest dreams believed you could be lucky enough to experience, enhanced your connection with the witch.

Attributing this factor to why you were so needy for any scrap of attention from the older woman, you were positively thrilled any time she so much as looked at you. Which, admittedly, was often. Whenever your insecurities raised their ugly heads, darkly whispering that you were going to get on Wanda’s nerves if you kept up, the woman would invariably find ways to reassure you just how pleased she was that you were finally comfortable enough to be yourself around her.

The only thing you were really still concerned about was how Wanda hadn’t let you return the favor yet, so to speak. After that first night you both slept together, any time you attempted to turn your lovemaking around to focus on Wanda, she would redirect you, distracting you with kisses until, breathless, you forgot what you were trying to do in the first place. You never forgot for long though, and by the end of each evening you were beginning to think maybe she didn’t want you to touch her. Insecurities returned full force, you found yourself wondering if maybe the witch regretted taking things this far and was using this tactic to keep herself from unwanted advances.

What if Wanda was only continuing this because she realized too late that you hadn’t measured up, and she didn’t want to hurt your feelings after going so far in her promises to you that she wanted you no matter what? Maybe she was stalling until she could find a way to extricate herself from this situation?

Knowing the woman was a mind reader, you fought valiantly to keep these thoughts buried as much as you could. By the fourth night though, it was taking a toll on you mentally. The pair of you were cuddling after she had provided you with another set of mind-blowing orgasms, Wanda periodically peppering your face with sweet kisses.

As always, the witch could sense your change in demeanor. “What is it, detka? I see your mind working a hundred miles an hour from here.”

Using her thumb the older woman gently smoothed out the crease on your forehead, before kissing the same spot, the key indicator you had been lost in thought. Your heart twisted traitorously, and you tried to escape instead in relishing in the sweetness of her behavior, fearing it may possibly be the last time she ever does so. It’s not that you were dying to know, per se, but rather that you loved her so much and if she wasn’t happy with you, you wanted to know. Either so you could fix it, or free her from her supposed obligation to you. Even if… even if that would break you, knowing in your heart that you loved her and couldn’t bear the thought of holding her to you out of mere obligation when she could have the opportunity to find happiness elsewhere.

A deep exhale was released from you prior to you looking up at her, eyes filled with vulnerable honesty. Your voice was meek, clearly dreading the answer but needing to know at the same time. “Why won’t you ever let me touch you?”

Now it was Wanda’s turn to furrow her brow in thought, trying to figure out where your thoughts were at. “What do you mean, lyubov moya? You’re touching me right now.” The redhead placed her hand atop yours on her chest, giving it a brief squeeze, to emphasize her point.

To add to your dread, now your stomach flipped with anxiety at having to explain yourself.

"I- when... when we're in bed, anytime I try to... touch you, you turn it around back on me. Do you not want me to touch you? Do you..." you gulped. "Do you regret what's happened between us? Am I not living up to your expectations? If it's something I can fix, Wanda, I like you too much not to try. But I can't fix what I don't know is broken. Or, I mean, it’s totally okay" It wasn’t. “If you’ve changed your mind, if you don’t want me, you don’t have to pretend.”

Green eyes turned glassy with tears as they widened in surprise. Oh, her poor kotenok, how had Wanda not realized how her behavior was making you feel? All she wanted was to love you and take her time savoring you after waiting so long to be with you again. She just hadn't wanted for you to feel pressured to reciprocate her advances. Knowing you had always been a tender-hearted person who needed to be eased into things, Wanda wished she had realized it sooner. She had never meant to hurt you; in fact, that was the opposite of what she wanted with you. As if she could ever not want you. As if the mere thought of ever letting you go didn’t make her want to burn the entire multiverse to the ground in grief. 

"Oh dorogaya, no! I'm so sorry for making you feel that way, it wasn't my intention. It's just... I've waited so long for you, Y/N. I only wanted to cherish our time together. I didn't want to pressure you into doing anything you weren't ready or didn't want to do. That doesn't mean I don't want you to touch me, my love. In fact, it's quite the opposite, I can't wait for you to touch me, sweetheart." By the end of her declaration, her voice had become considerably lower.

The witch leaned into your personal space until her forehead was resting gently against yours. She closed her eyes briefly, enjoying the closeness, before she opened them to look deeply into your eyes, willing you to understand the seriousness of what she was about to tell you.

“I love you, Y/N. So much. If you want to touch me, if you feel ready for that, I promise that I won’t turn you away again. Alright malyshka? I just didn’t want you to feel pressured to do anything you weren’t ready for. You mean too much for me to rush what we have for mere physicality. I have waited so long for you lyubov moya, and if you needed I would continue to wait forever. I never meant to hurt you. I want you so much I feel like my body aches for you, but I never wanted to push you, in case you weren’t ready. I’m sorry that in doing so I was making you feel unwanted, that’s absolutely not the case. Please Y/N, tell me you understand tha-”

You interrupted Wanda’s rambling, eagerly pressing your lips against hers. Your hand, previously resting on her chest, now gripped her shirt, pulling her closer to you. The surprise on the former Avenger's face was evident. The passionate intensity of your kiss ignited a strong desire within her, causing her arms to wrap around the back of  your neck as you practically threw yourself on top of her.

Although initially frenzied, the kiss simmered slowly and sensual. While you were excited to finally have the opportunity to touch Wanda the way you had been dreaming of (far longer than you were even willing to admit to yourself), you didn't want to rush it, still nervous having never done this before. One of your hands that had been clutching her shirt to keep her close, gently slid up to cup her cheek, savoring the feeling of her soft skin against your hand.

Briefly, you pulled away to catch Wanda's eyes with a silent question, your thumb grazing across the apple of her cheek softly. Feeling warmed that you wanted to check in, the witch tightened her arms that were behind your neck and nodded. You leaned in again, and as your lips met hers, you gently took her lower lip between yours, sucking on it, eliciting a deep moan from her. As the kiss deepened, Wanda's hand wound itself in your hair, nails lightly scratching your scalp. The older woman was willing to let you do anything, as long as she could ensure that you stayed close to her at all times.

Unhurriedly you trailed your lips down Wanda's jawline, leaving a series of soft kisses along her skin. Your hands started to explore her body, tracing the curves and contours that you had longed to touch. Wanda's breath hitched as your fingertips danced across sensitive areas, sending shivers down her spine.

As your lips continued their journey, you found yourself exploring every inch of Wanda's body, relishing the taste and texture of her skin. Hands moving with a blend of tenderness and desire, expressing your love and admiration for her. Breathy moans filled the air, a delightful melody to your ears, as Wanda eagerly responded to your touch. Lips caressing the swell of Wanda's breasts, moving from one to the other before settling on one to worship. With tentative strokes of your tongue, you swirled around and then across the hardened bud of her nipple, eliciting a groan from the witch that caused your core to clench around nothing.

For a few days now, your fantasies revolved around finding out if Wanda tasted as good as she looked. Said fantasies were coming to fruition, and you practically couldn’t wait. Replacing your lips with your hand as you lowered yourself down her body, leaving hot, wet kisses down her abdomen til you were situated comfortably between her legs. You were greeted with a mouthwatering sight - evidence of her pleasure slicked down her thighs, dripping onto the bed. Gods, this was all for you? Because of you? You did this to her, no one else. You bet she tasted divine, nectar of the fucking gods. 

Unintentionally you spent so long staring, that if your flattering thoughts hadn’t been so loud, Wanda would have felt self-conscious. Seeming to snap out of your reverie, you raised your eyes to capture the witch’s gaze, looking for any sign of hesitation or discomfort. Sensing none, you lowered your lips to press a soft kiss to the hood of her clit, listening as Wanda’s voice caught in a small gasp.

Never breaking eye contact, you ran a cursory swipe of your tongue over her folds. Your eyes fluttered shut as both you and Wanda moaned in unison - Wanda from the sensation of your tongue on her most intimate area, and you from the delicious taste. It had a slight tanginess, with a unique flavor that belonged solely to Wanda. In that moment, you knew that if you were ever on death row, she would be your choice for a last meal. Nothing would ever compare to the taste of her, and you were certain you would never be able to get enough.

You eagerly immersed yourself in Wanda's essence, like a woman starved. Paying close attention to every detail that elicited delightful sounds from her lips, you memorized them for future reference. Although you may have lacked practical experience, your enthusiasm and ability to learn quickly more than compensated for it.

Wanda's moans and whimpers were soon reaching their peak as her thighs tightly wrapped around your head. Aware that she was close, you took her pearl into your mouth and gently sucked on it while flicking your tongue against it over and over again. Sharp nails dug into your scalp as she held you firmly in place, urging you not to stop. Despite feeling a bit lightheaded from the lack of oxygen, you had no intention of stopping, not that you could with her ankles locked behind your head.

A broken cry escaped from Wanda as she climaxed, her thighs trembling near your ears. You eagerly licked up her slick, relishing in the signs of her pleasure as she reached her peak. Wanting to explore something different, you positioned your index and middle fingers at her entrance, feeling it contract around nothing, and effortlessly slid them inside.

You groaned as you were enveloped in her tight heat, feeling her clenching around the new intrusion. Recalling how she had made you see stars, you began curling your digits, looking for that spongy spot, all the while never letting up on your tongue’s ministrations. The redhead all but screamed as her first orgasm slammed head long into a second one with no time to breathe in between. Her core was spasming around you, practically drawing you in, and fuck if this wasn’t the hottest experience of your entire life.

If Wanda hadn't gently tapped your head, pulling at your hair to lift you as her oversensitive body transitioned from pleasure to borderline pain, you probably would have continued until you were both completely spent. Deciding that while you enjoyed it when the older woman touched you but touching her was an almost spiritual experience. It wouldn't be surprising if this became your newest favorite hyper fixation, though not one likely to disappear anytime soon if ever. To avoid causing any discomfort to Wanda, you accepted her request and moved away.

Face completely drenched, you smiled, using your fingers to savor the remnants of her release. Both of you moaned - Wanda at the sight, and you at the return of your favorite new dessert to your taste buds. Breathless, Wanda chuckled at the self-satisfied expression on your face and reached out for you to join her. Taking the hint, you draped yourself over her body, gazing at her with a love-sick expression. The woman didn't waste any time before pulling you in for a passionate kiss, her smile pressing against your lips.

Eventually parting for air, you stared into each other's eyes, before both of you burst into giggles. Her toned arms wrapped around you, holding you close, and you relished her proximity. Tucking your head under her chin, a happy sigh released from you while Wanda hummed in delight.

“That was wonderful, malyshka. I know you were worried about “measuring up”, as you would put it, but I want you to know, you exceeded any expectations that I might have had.” Satisfaction dripped from her voice, making you feel content with your efforts. For so long now you had wanted to make her feel even a fraction of the happiness that she had brought to you. It brought you immense joy to know that you had succeeded.

“I’m glad I was able to make you feel good, Wands.” you murmured. “I like making you happy.” You nuzzled under her chin.

The former avenger chuckled at your submissive nature. You were so perfect for her, and you didn’t even know. “Darling, you don’t have to make me come to make me happy. You do that just by being here with me.”

She followed up her words with a gentle kiss to your forehead, and you tried to keep your happy wiggles as subtle as possible. This made her almost burst out with laughter. “You’re so cute, Y/N. You don’t have to hide your happiness from me, dorogaya, I would never judge you. It’s adorable.”

You hadn’t thought it was possible, but she had unknowingly wrapped another metaphorical magical tendril around your heart with those words. Raising your head to make eye contact, you gazed at her as if she had hung the stars. How could this woman be so perfect for you? Always knowing what to say, how to attenuate your insecurities, making you feel safe to be your most authentic self in her presence. Was this woman even real?

Although it was too early to utter those three cherished words that you never expected to say to anyone, you undeniably felt them in your heart and soul at this moment. You longed to express them out loud, but you held back. Now was not the right time. Perhaps soon, though. Instead, you gently pressed a pure, innocent kiss on her lips, hoping to convey the emotions that you weren't quite prepared to vocalize yet. Reciprocating the pace and pressure of your kiss, Wanda followed it up with a brief kiss to the tip of your nose, making you giggle. 

“Let’s get cleaned up, lyubov.” She conjured warm, damp cloths for the both of you, insisting on helping you clean up before taking care of herself. Once all traces of your nightly activities were gone, you cuddled up to the witch. You crawled back into her embrace, feeling comfortable enough to entangle your legs with Wanda’s as you laid practically on top of her.

Briefly considering teasing you but being unwilling to jeopardize your newfound confidence with her Wanda simply giggled, placing kisses atop your head, and holding you close. Things couldn’t be more perfect, and the former avenger felt her heart overflowing with love and affection for you. Using her magic, she turned off the lights for the night, murmuring a sweet “Good night lyubov moya.”

One day you resolved to ask her those and all the other words in her native Sokovian specifically meant, but as always, once your eyes began drifting closed, all thoughts left your mind. For now, you were blissfully content in Wanda’s arms.

[azurecrystalz]

A Guide to Reading Crazy:B Stories!!

A quick note: I won't be linking any stories for the sake of the fact that this is meant to be a guide not a directory. However, if there is something on this list you can't find anywhere and want translated, please don't hesitate to drop an ask and I'll consider it !! Last Updated: Launch Day (1-24-2023)

I'll be making edits to this frequently if any suggestions + new stories come up !! I also invite other unit producers to make their own story guides and I can maybe host a guide masterlist so that anyone can reference it!!

Things to Know Before Reading This Guide

This is going to be an ongoing post that will be updated frequently, so if there's any errors, questions, suggestions, concerns, etc drop an ask/dm on here/twitter !! For the time being, I'll leave Double Face sort of out of this until I compile information about them. Please do not repost this guide anywhere. You can link it in whatever you'd like and share it with your friends but don't repost it please and thanks.

Getting to Know Crazy:B

The Importance of the Main Story: A majority of Crazy:B’s content lies in the main story. I highly recommend, before reading any Crazy:B story, to read the main story first. The main story not only gives you an idea of who each character is, but it also gives you insight on how existing characters think of them and hints at multiple things that still need to be elaborated on in future events. Plus, most Crazy:B stories go back and reference “MDM”, which is like it’s own arc in the main story that has a huge impact on the characterization of Crazy:B (both individually and as a whole). It’s available on the English Enstars server, please try to read it if you get the chance. It’s not like a requirement to read it, but you’d be missing out on references and characterization if you don’t.

Rinne Idol Story 3: If for any reason you can’t read the main story, this is a good story to start. It’s a very basic, one-chapter story that includes all four members of Crazy:B and it introduces them and their dynamics on a semi-basic level. Nothing is explained here but the story brings up enough unexplained points that make you curious enough to learn more.

Reading the First Idol Story of Each Member: If you can't read the Rinne Idol Story since you haven't unlocked it or something, read the basic introduction idol stories. Every idol in the game has one and it gives you a feel for their personalities on a basic level. Crazy:B has the advantage of having theirs voiced too. So, if all else is no good, start there.

Specific Pair Dynamics:

The following explains what stories to read when looking for development between two specific characters:

Bold indicates major development, italics indicates semi-major development, and no edit indicates very brief but still important development

Rinne + Niki: Hot Limit, Sweets Hunter, A Cup's Worth By Yourself, Niki Idol Story 2

Rinne + HiMERU: Nightclub, The "Runrun" Calamity, Prerequisites for a Win

Rinne + Kohaku: Sudden Death, Honeybee

HiMERU + Niki: Ariadne, Lucky SCRAMBLE

HiMERU + Kohaku: Honeybee, Romantic? Date, HiMERU Idol Story 2

Stories that hint at Kaname: Obbligato, Past, Present, And..., Ariadne, Roaring Sea Marina, A Pursuit in Plain Sight, HiMERU Idol Story 2

Niki + Kohaku: Spider, Secret Service, Kohaku Idol Story 2

Rinne + Crazy:B as a whole: The Bee's Knees, A New Game making the Rounds

HiMERU + Crazy:B as a whole: Ariadne, Romantic? Date, Lucky SCRAMBLE

Kohaku + Crazy:B as a whole: Spider, Honeybee, A Spring Evening's Respite, Sakura Sakura

Niki + Crazy:B as a whole: Hot Limit

Specific Members:

The following explains what stories to read when looking for development of a specific character:

Bold indicates major development, italics indicates semi-major development, non-edited indicates very brief but still important development. It is not recommended to read the ones marked with ** immediately.

Rinne: Main Story, Nightclub, AOSOBI

HiMERU: Obbligato**, Ariadne, Past, Present, And..., HiMERU Idol Story 3

Niki: Hot Limit

Kohaku: Sudden Death**, Spider, Honeybee

Fun Stories

Not everyone wants to read 42 chapters of a Reminiscence story, or sometimes you’re in the mood for something silly. The following is a list of lighter stories for each member that aren’t too heavy on the feels. These stories can either be from cards belonging to them or stories they appear in.

Rinne: AOSOBI

HiMERU: Lucky SCRAMBLE, The Principles of Sex Appeal

Niki: Sweet Sweet Hunger, Sweets Hunter, Sweets Box

Kohaku: Spider, Fruitful October, Storm Cloud FUMBLE, Lullaby

Lore Heavy Stories

The following explains the stories to read if you want full background closure on a specific member, meaning you want a story that explains a large part of their individual origins. These are more informational (and emotionally heavy) stories that need not only a good grasp on the member themselves to understand, but other characters in relationship to them as well.

Rinne: Select sections of Main Story

HiMERU: Obbligato

Niki: N/A

Kohaku: Sudden Death

Other Story Appearances

This is a list that contains idol stories that Crazy:B members make appearances in. The card and story don't belong to them but they still have dialogue in it.

Return Trip Service (Yuuta 3* Featuring Rinne)

The Principles of Sex Appeal (Jun 3* Featuring HiMERU)

Other Units Interacted With

2wink: Nightclub, A Spring Evening's Respite, Love Letter, FUSION Unit Collection 07 Live Story

Knights: Sudden Death

Most, if not all other units: Main Story

Stories Not Yet Sorted into the Guide

As far as my knowledge goes, the stories I haven't included featuring any of the four members are: Decadence, White Tiger, Nighthead (Shuffle) , Butlers (Shuffle) , A-Z (Shuffle) , Black Snow (Shuffle), Bankara, Chill Yellow, Easter (Shuffle)

Thanks for reading!! If there's anything missing from this that you'd like to suggest, please don't hesitate to ask!!

[serenaoffaerun]

Tenacity - Chapter 3 of the "Consequences" series

It's finally here!! Thank you all for your patience. Because of the physical letter writing I drew for Tav and Gale's back-and-forth, this took much longer than I anticipated. Plus, the story just kind of...ran away with itself... This chapter comes in at a word count over 8,000 and I don't know how that happened LOL.

Big thanks again to @alpydk who started off this series with what was supposed to be a one-off angst story, and allowed me to write my own sequel chapters to finish the story my own way. (Alphydk's chapter 2 can be found here.) As my first long-form writing in over a decade, it's been a fun challenge to take two characters I love so much and get them out of a position I wouldn't have put them in in the first place. 💜

Without making you all endure any more of my "propensity towards verbosity," I present chapter 3: Tenacity (complete with hand-written letters!)

Summary: After agreeing to try to re-establish their friendship/relationship by writing letters back and forth, Tav and Gale set out on their journey of communicating, listening, and healing. You better believe they're both going to hold on for dear life.

Word Count: 8,289 (I'm not sorry.)

CW: References to depression, alcoholism

Tags: GalexTav, angst/fluff, pre-established (albeit rocky) relationship, future smut? (no spoilers...), brief mention of infertility (in a positive way??), depresso espresso, communication, healing, Tara's getting ALL the tuna.

[I'm sure I left some out, I'll come back and add to it once I get this on AO3 - coming soon!!]

Screenshot: Taken from my own gameplay. Please do not re-post as your own.

NOTE: For those who don't want to read Tav's mediocre (but improving) handwriting or Gale's flowy cursive, the text version is printed below each letter (including doodle descriptions!)

9/2 4:45PM Pacific - EDIT FOR MORE NOTES:

My underlines went away when I copy/pasta'd from GoogleDocs, and now I realize that you can't underline because of links, so they're bolded and italicized instead.

REGARDING BHAALSPAWN INFERTILITY - this is NOT canon to BG3/DnD/Forgotten Realms. I totally made this up to fit my literary needs. 😉

Alpydk's chapter 1: Consequences

Chapter 2: Acquiescence

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

Tav assessed herself before she even opened her eyes. Between the wine and the crying, she was probably the most dehydrated person in all of Faerûn. The pounding headache she was used to. She'd made blackout curtains for a reason, after all. But the soul-wrenching nausea, that was new.

Being blissfully infertile, she knew there was no risk of pregnancy. One of her permanent "gifts" as Bhaal's former Chosen was the ability to be as promiscuous as she pleased without fear of pregnancy in order to weasel her way into the hearts, minds, and pants of any of her previous victims. Not that she'd needed that ability since the Nautiloid, or especially her subsequent severing from said god. But this was no ordinary nausea anyway. It was coming from somewhere much more complex.

Among the growing list of sensations Tav noticed from her downward-facing zombie position on the couch, she found two long-lost friends: the physical feeling of being simultaneously sated but also achingly empty in her core, and...hope. Surprisingly enough, she realized it was the latter that brought on the nausea.

Crippling anxiety, overwhelming depression, stabbing guilt, these are feelings she was familiar with and knew how to handle: with denial and alcohol. Just ball it up and shove it in the "future ulcer" pocket by the stomach and cover it up with a bottle of wine or two.

Hope, on the other hand, is a fickle bitch. It introduces the possibility of a better future. The idea that things could get better. Then comes the uncertainty.

‘Desirable things in life are never guaranteed,’ she told herself. ‘You can always lose them. Don't get TOO comfortable! You might still have to live the rest of your life without the man you truly believe is your soulmate.’

Tav had NEVER believed in the idea of a ‘soulmate’ before. That was even more laughable than ‘love at first sight.’ But she’d come to believe it now.

‘And you fucked it up, didn't you? You let yourself have the worst lapse in judgment, then you doubled down on it by screaming and being a hurtful wretch. You did this. You did this and you don’t deserve forgiveness, you don’t deserve mercy. No one else will ever fill the hole in your heart, so you’re going to die alone and unloved. That’s what you deserve.’  

The words from the voice in her head kept playing on a loop for the last six months and they wouldn’t shut up. Drowning them out with wine and sleep had become her modus operandi. There’d been nothing to look forward to, nothing to hope for. It was the way things were going to be, she’d accepted it. Especially in the last few months after Waterdeep. She couldn’t have her heart broken again if she didn’t expect anything.

But now, new words were taking up space in her brain. His words.

‘…there was a time that we’d also brought out the best in each other, once. I refuse to believe we can’t find our way back there again.’

‘Fuck.’ Those words had stolen her breath. Given her reason to think that there was a chance. That maybe he would give her the mercy she knew she didn’t deserve. Gale was just that kind of man.

If that were truly the case, though, why did he shut her out so quickly in the first place without getting to even talk about things. Why did he go straight to the biting comments and yelling instead of showing any kind of signs of forgiveness being a possibility.

‘Because you ripped out his heart that was already broken and threw it on the ground with all the remains of any self-confidence he had left after Mystra, you inconsiderate, unfaithful monster. It’s a wonder he’s still alive.’

These were the new conversations Tav now had running back and forth in her head and that’s where the source of the nausea was seated. In the unknown future where happiness still existed. Along the path that could go to life-long depression and loneliness or a blissful existence with the man who completed her, and she wouldn’t know which way she’d end up traveling until she got there. It was terrifying.

‘I refuse to believe we can’t find our way back there again.’

Face still mashed in the couch pillow, she balled up her fist and slammed it down into the cushion. Depression wasn’t going to win today. Or any other day, for that matter, at least not like it had been. She would not allow herself to be swept up in the waves of self-loathing and doubt to the point of being non-functional. Not anymore.

She took a deep breath and sat up, eyes still closed. There was a warmth on her face that she knew would be the late-morning sun coming in through the living room window. As she cracked her eyes open, she winced as the light seared into her brain and fired off pain signals. Slowly, she stood up, walked across the room, and felt around for the blackout curtains.

Medicine. Shower. Food. In that order.

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

Looking around the room later that day, Tav felt pretty proud of herself. Once she got herself cleaned, fed, and a bit more clear-headed, she opened the curtains again and opened all the windows. Her little depression hole needed a good airing out.

Starting with all the trash, she got rid of the wine bottles, the old food, even the bin filled with dirt and burned clothing. After washing off surfaces and sweeping floors, she put all the books back on the shelf, keeping a box full of scrolls and a quill pulled out on her desk. One sandwich and two sinks full of dishes later, it was nearing night time, but she had one more task ahead of her: the letter.

She’d been chewing over words in her head all day, but she still had no idea where to start. How do you even begin a letter like this? ‘Hi, Gale’? ‘Dear Gale,’? ‘Esteemed Professor Dekarios,’? If the greeting was this difficult, how would she even move on to the rest of the letter? She knew for damn sure that she wasn’t quite ready to be fully emotionally vulnerable, especially with him (even though he’s the only one she should ideally be emotionally vulnerable with…).

‘Welp, might as well just start,’ she said to herself as she sighed.

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

Hi Gale,  [in the top right hand corner was a little swirly doodle with some flowers and leaves. Next to it was written ‘I don’t have fancy paper, so I tried to do something cute?]

I’m having trouble starting this letter, so I figured maybe just admitting that is as good of a place as any. I don’t know what to say, I don’t know what you want to hear, I don’t know what will help or what will just hurt… Here’s what I do know:

-          I’m sorry. [there are tear stains on the paper here]

-          There’s no excuse for what I did.

-          I don’t even know if I know the reason for what I did.

-          I don’t feel like I deserve your patience, your forgiveness, your mercy, anything, really. Your anger is totally justifiable.

-          I don’t know who I was that night or in the months following.

Except, I do. I’d reverted back to the person abomination I walked away from. The hateful, murderous, evil, wretched thing I said I’d never be again. Yet, I can’t claim that I wasn’t in my right mind at the time either. I never lost consciousness. I was aware of the decisions I was making. I just don’t understand why I made them in the first place, other than I’d lost hope. I’d stopped trusting you. I’d assumed you were going to leave me and go back to Mystra or pursue godhood where you’d no longer be…you. [Next to this is a small sketch of a broken heart.]

Here's what else I know:

-          You didn’t deserve that.

-          I don’t deserve you.

[Below this was another item that was heavily crossed out, but you can make out the words ‘I still’.]

(this letter is a mess, I’m sorry. I’m just…flustered)

[On the right side of the paper, there was a list of four items outlined in a rectangle, above which was written ‘Good things’ – a question mark had followed this, but it was crossed out with an X. The four items are:]

-          I took a shower today.

-          I cleaned my house for the first time in weeks today.

-          I’m going to stop drinking for a while.

-          I’m exhausted and I’m going to bed.

It’s not ‘the letter of a lifetime,’ but it’s a start. I hope you’re well and that your students aren’t giving you too much of a hassle. Can’t be as bad as slaying a whole camp of goblins, right? [Here there was a small doodle of a goblin head, X’s for eyes and tongue sticking out, laying in a pool of blood next to a sword.]

I look forward to hearing from you. Take care of yourself, please.

-Tav

P.S. I’m working on my handwriting. I’m sorry if any of this is illegible. Not really a subject that was covered in “Bhaalspawn University.”

[At the bottom of the letter was drawn a curvy vine with leaves, flowers, and flower buds.

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

Gale swallowed thickly as he held the letter in his trembling hands.

‘She did it. She actually wrote, and it wasn’t full of anger and insults. It was a real, honest-to-the-gods attempt at talking.’

His eyes shimmered as he re-read two lines over and over again:

-          You didn’t deserve that.

-          I don’t deserve you.

His heart ached as he pondered the fact that she thought so little of herself. It made him remember his inner monologue after the debacle with Mystra and the orb. All Gale told himself for a year was that he’d made mistakes so huge that no one should have to ever bear the burden of his presence again. Anyone who showed any affection towards him, platonic or otherwise, was a fool who was wasting their time. They’d just end up being let down by this depressed shadow of a former Archmage. Knowing that Tav was the one now who truly felt she wasn’t deserving of forgiveness or mercy brought tears to his eyes.

He felt a bit lighter, however, at the implication that she even cared whether or not she was worthy of him. Not only cared, but was taking bolder steps forward. She’d apologized, she’d wished him well, she’s taking care of herself… Then it dawned on him that she’d gotten so low that a task as mundane as taking a shower was to be celebrated on a list of positive things.

Oh, did he remember that pit of despair well. He’d spent a year down at the bottom of it. Cut off from all outside contact, forgetting (or refusing) to eat, going days, even a week or more without bathing because he didn’t have anyone to see anyway. No point in expending the energy.

Now, however, Gale was at least teaching. That had kept him going. Even if he didn’t interact with many people outside of Blackstaff Academy, he was still getting dressed, going to a place with other people, and teaching Faerûn’s youth to harness and control the Weave.

But what of Tav? How often was she seeing others? It seems she had relocated after all. The return address is listed in Daggerford, a town not far south of Waterdeep full of retired adventurers, artisans, craftsmen, and farmers. A relatively quiet place compared to Baldur’s Gate, but still a city with plenty of opportunities. (And only a three-, maybe four-day travel from Gale. That would explain how easily she ended up in Waterdeep in the marketplace on that cold, rainy day…).

He remembered her telling everyone how much of a hero she’d been at the reunion party. What happened to her adventuring? Would she even be home enough for their letter-writing to be consistent? She’d made no mention of her activities, that was something he’d want to follow up on. As much as it would have previously brought him satisfaction to see her put in her place for everything she’d said, cut off from others and alone, now it just caused an ache in his chest.

The threads of his bitterness and rage had already begun unraveling. He’d been letting the truth sink in since the reunion: Tav had acted reckless and lashed out because she was scared. Scared of losing him. The thought of him abandoning her for Mystra or for godhood drove her to seek pleasure in someone else. Yet he hadn’t bothered to get to the root of the problem at the time. All he knew was that he had his heart broken. He had been betrayed. He had been ‘abandoned.’

He sighed heavily as the pangs of grief and remorse started to take hold. What a fool he’d been. A self-centered, arrogant, quick-tempered fool. But he shook those thoughts out of his head. This wasn’t the time to keep dwelling on what he had or hadn’t done in the past. Where the ball of anger had resided in his chest, just as roiling and hungry as the Netherese orb had been, he felt the tension had begun to break apart. There was still much healing to do, but now there was a little room for the patience and understanding he’d wished he’d displayed before.

He re-read the letter again, chuckling lightly at her doodles and scratches. Her handwriting had much improved, she gave herself too little credit. It was good to see she still had her silly sense of humor as well. She hadn’t been completely robbed of her beautiful qualities.

Draining the last sip of wine in his cup, he arose from his spot on the balcony and walked inside to sit at his desk. One thing nagged at him before he could start writing his response, though. Underneath the bottom list where she said she didn’t deserve him, she’d written something and then furiously scratched it out. He thought he might know what it said, but didn’t want to get carried away if he was wrong. Holding the letter carefully in front of the lit candle on his desk, he stared at the scratches, trying to piece together the words underneath. His breath caught when his eyes brought them together:

‘I still’

I still… Still what? I still hear the voice of the Dark Urge? I still won’t forgive you?

No. Given the context of what was said and the direction they were going, it had to mean only one thing. He would only allow himself to think it was one thing.

‘I still love you.’

Hoping with everything he had that it was true, he took another deep breath and pulled out a scroll from his desk drawer. It was his turn now.

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

Dear Tav, [In small writing to the right of the greeting, it says (my ‘fancy paper’ is at the academy) with a winking face doodle.]

Sometimes I think I’d prefer a good goblin massacre to a room full of hormonal teenage wizards learning to control a firebolt spell, but each day is a new adventure, after all! [After this sentence, Gale had doodled a flame, his head/hair with wisps of smoke, and in small writing with an arrow pointing to the drawings, (I tried).]

Thank you for your thoughts, and especially for your apology. I can’t in good conscience say that everything is forgotten, but I fully believe we are on the right path forward.

I would also like to apologize, because you deserve it. You are so much more deserving than you think you are of kindness, understanding and, yes, when I am able, forgiveness. I understand, likely better than anyone else you might know, how strongly self-loathing can take hold.

Which is why I want to tell you that I’m proud of you. I don’t know what you’ve been up to in recent months. I heard you telling the others about some adventuring opportunities, but I gather from your letter that self-care had gone by the wayside. I’m proud and happy to hear that you’re starting to focus on yourself. Yes, I agree with you: showering, cleaning, limiting alcohol intake, and even being tired enough to go to bed are all good things. I hope you continue being kind to yourself.

Admittedly, I’d fallen into a similar rut. While I get plenty of social interaction at the academy, my extra-curricular life has been…non-existent. I come home to my tower, I usually remember to eat, I grade papers, stay up entirely too late researching, and then attempt to get enough sleep to repeat that schedule ad nauseum. The cleanliness of my home, and myself, had been sorely neglected. But as you are focusing on self-improvement, I shall endeavor to do likewise.

Speaking of self-improvement, that’s where the letter-writing idea came from. Rather, through Tara’s efforts to help me during my year of isolation. She’d suggested I do some journalling to write out my thoughts and emotions regarding Mystra. Not only to get them to stop rolling around in my head, but to be able to articulate them. It did help, quite immeasurably, in fact. That’s why I’m so thankful you’ve agreed to this in the first place. I feel like it will serve us well. [A filled-in purple heart was drawn here.]

Actually, I can’t tell you how many letters I started writing to you in the last six months. I really did try. It just always felt…wrong, somehow. Like it wasn’t the right time, or my words weren’t sincere, or they’d fall on deaf ears. But I’m so glad we’re ‘talking’ now. I’ve missed you, Tav… [A filled-in but broken purple heart was drawn here.]

Tell me what you’ve been up to! Tell me your thoughts. Tell me any and everything you want to. I’ll be waiting to take it all in.

Yours,

Gale

[To the left on the bottom, Gale had drawn an open book with an ink pot and a quill. In the middle on the bottom, Tara had been drawn, wings outstretched, lying down, eyes closed, with a small note: (Tara’s sleeping on my desk and she’s adorable!). On the right under his signature, Gale drew a wand with sparkling stars and a curved line of weave making a flourish.]

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

Dear Gale – [Here, she had drawn a wand with stars similar to the one he’d put by his name in his letter]

Thank you for saying that you’ve wanted to talk this whole time. That makes me feel so much better. I never put quill to parchment, but I started countless letters in my head. Like you said, it just never felt right. [After this, Tav drew a scroll, an ink pot, and a quill.]

This does feel like the right path at the right time, but to be honest, Gale…I’m scared. I’m scared to put everything on the table again. With how much I got we got hurt last time we allowed ourselves to be vulnerable with each other, I can’t go through that again. Nor do I want you to go through it again. [Tav had drawn two filled in broken hearts after this paragraph.]

It humbles me to think you feel I’m deserving of good things. Truly. I don’t feel like I am, so I suppose it’s good that someone in this world does. Your encouragement in taking care of myself is unexpected, but ultimately not surprising. That’s just who you are. I’m thankful to hear that you’re taking it upon yourself to improve as well. [Here, Tav had drawn some grapes and cheese on a plate, and to the right of it, a broom and dust pan.]

I fully understand, however, that you can’t forgive me, at least not yet. (I wouldn’t forgive me either.) Hopefully I can begin to earn it over time. I’m not going to sit here and defend my actions with trying to find solace in Mizora’s…experience. It wasn’t even fulfilling, if it makes you feel any better. (It won’t, I know you). It was just tricks of the mind and a devil’s words of promises for things I didn’t even desire. (Perhaps the ‘old me’ would have.) I regretted it immediately, yet it has marked me forever.

But I know that how it left me afterwards is not the point. The point is why I let myself go along with it in the first place. I’ve done a lot of thinking in the last months, especially since the reunion. Let me preface this by saying that I am not shifting the blame. I still made the decision to give in. However, after days and weeks of your near-obsession with the Crown of Karsus, I could see that look in your eyes. You couldn’t stop thinking about the power it could offer. Power that we know all too well would only corrupt you and change you. Then, your meeting with Mystra, introducing her back into your life with her deal to get rid of the orb for the crown… I could feel you slipping away from me.

[On the left side by the words Crown of Karsus, Tav had drawn the crown with a big ‘X’ through it. Near where Mystra is mentioned, she drew a scared ‘Mystra,’ identified as ‘witch bitch,’ being threatened by Tav with a dagger.’]

What I should have done was keep talking to you, seeking reassurance. I should have spat in Mizora’s face and told her to get the fuck out. [In this area, Tav drew herself spitting in Mizora’s face.] I should have sought solace in your embrace, in your words, in your love… But one thing I need you to understand: I was brought up my whole life to be let down. Every success came with a defeat. Every win came with a loss. Every gift came with a sacrifice. You were the most important gift I will ever have in this world or the next. I was positive I was going to lose it, so…I don’t know. I think maybe I wanted to push it from myself first before it was taken outside of my control? Mizora approaching me with her “offer”… She knew exactly what she was doing: giving me an “out” that she knew I would take because I was at my most vulnerable.

For all my accolades being a “Hero of Baldur’s Gate” and savior to many, I clearly didn’t have the strength to stand up to her temptations. I let her use the fact that I have major trust issues to weasel her way into my deepest fears and exploit them. I didn’t have a chance. It doesn’t excuse my actions, but I hope it at least explains them.

I’m running out of parchment. You asked what I’ve been up to. If it’s of any comfort, things are going well enough. I’m eating mostly regularly, I’m keeping up with the chores, and I’m even starting to finally organize some garden space in the yard. I’m trying to spend some time outside every day, and I’ve replaced the wine with various teas. They’re small steps, but they’re steps.

I don’t know if I’ve gotten us closer to any kind of resolution, but hopefully my words can fill in some of the gaps. I look forward to hearing your response.

Thank you, by the way, for giving me something to look forward to again.

I’ve missed you too. Very much so.

Humbly yours,

Tav

[At the bottom left of the page, she drew a cup of tea]

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

Dearest Tav, [to the right of the greeting, it says in smaller writing (I apologize for the condition of this letter. It was rather difficult to write.) The letter is littered with smudges where tears had fallen and letter had been re-written over them.]

As I wrote my last letter and have been pondering your response, it weighs on me just how grave a mistake I also made. The blame for our downfall does not fully rest with you. (Let me finish…)

Feeling like you’re not worthy, like you made too big of a mistake to recover from; you know how familiar I am with those thoughts. Looking back, this means I should have been the one who was there for you the most. Yet I wasn’t. I was the furthest one away.

I agree with you that my anger was justified. I’d felt like I’d been told I wasn’t enough for you, which is exactly what I feared from the beginning. In my mind, you had openly told the entire world that Gale Dekarios, fallen Archmage of Waterdeep, scorned by Mystra herself, could not, in fact, make you or anyone else happy. You had to go find your pleasure elsewhere.

Where my mistake lies is in never stopping to think how much you had to have been hurting in order to find solace in Mizora in the first place. I don’t think I even gave you the chance to confirm you hadn’t been possessed, quite frankly. It’s no wonder your defenses went up immediately. My reaction, while potentially understandable, was absolutely awful.

I am so sorry that I never gave you a chance to talk things through before letting my hurt and rage take over. What I should have done was walk away and screamed into the void instead of at you before hearing any kind of explanation. I suppose I figured there would never be one good enough. Never did I think until recently that I could have possibly had something to do with you feeling pushed in that direction. I should have been more reassuring. I should have given you no reason to doubt my love for you and my dedication to you.

The possibilities that came with the crown had taken over my waking thoughts, and even infiltrated my dreams. Providing an eternal life without conflicts for both you and I sounded like the perfect solution, and I became hyper-focused. You had tried telling me that you were scared, that you didn’t want me to lose my humanity. I just still thought I was smarter and had this whole grand plan all figured out and you would realize it eventually.

[Before the next paragraph is drawn an infinity symbol, a heart nestled into the loops on either side.]

But I didn’t do enough to put your mind at ease. I didn’t help you understand that I wouldn’t have actually left had it come down to choosing between you and the crown. I never, never would have left you, Tav. As I shouted rather rudely before, I only ever truly wanted you. I assumed you knew that beyond a shadow of a doubt, so I didn’t spend any time reinforcing it. I let my focus drift too far. Then, I left you scared and alone afterwards with no chance to explain. I, the ex-Chosen and ex-lover of a goddess, from whom he should have learned humility after his hubris, the man to whom you showed so much kindness and understanding and support when anyone else would have run in the other direction, I couldn’t even show a fraction of that back to you.

Taviela, my heart, I am so, so incredibly sorry that I wasn’t there for you. When you pulled me from that portal and later heard my harrowing tale of foolishness and desperation, you stood by me. You took care of me and encouraged me, and I threw that back in your face at the first opportunity. It will be a long time before I can forgive myself for that. But I humbly, honestly, and hopefully ask if you could ever forgive me. I understand if you cannot, but know that I will spend the rest of my life proving myself to you.

Please keep telling me your thoughts, Tav. I want to hear them. I need to hear them.

Repentantly yours,

Gale

P.S. I’m far too emotional at the moment to do many little doodles, but yours warm my heart. Please keep doing them. [A filled in heart was drawn here. He had also drawn a simple version of the wand and stars under his name.]

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

My Dearest Gale, [Across the top of the page was a wand, a wavy line of weave, and small stars.]

I’ve been staring at this parchment for at least an hour, but I haven’t been able to write anything until now. I’m sobbing at your words. Your insight about everything I put you through, the weight of what happened after all your hurts and insecurities from Mystra and the orb, the fear of being inadequate to me… That weight is almost too much to bear. I’ve berated myself for months now for hurting you, but the full impact never hit me until I read it in your words. I want to fall on my knees and cry at your feet and beg for mercy. But how could you possibly ever forgive me? I’m sorrier than you will ever know for allowing you causing you to feel that way again.

Also, to think that you are taking any of this upon yourself so strongly, I really don’t know what to say about that either. I still feel like this is all due to my deficiencies. My weaknesses. My fuck-ups. But I can understand where you’re coming from, wanting to take some responsibility. All I’ll say is that there is nothing to forgive anymore. I hold no more ill will towards you. We both acted like children throwing tantrums, but we were each already pushed to our limits and didn’t stop to think about, well, anything, really.  [Tav had drawn 5 filled in hearts here, along with writing (I don’t know what else to doodle here because I’m also emotional).]

It feels cheap to keep coming back to my upbringing, but it’s an unfortunate reality where I’m concerned. Everything was always a bitter fight of either words or daggers. There was no real “communication” to speak of. There were no “feelings” shared. It was all cruel lessons with harsh punishments. ‘Be a bitch, or get walked over’ was something I told myself a lot. I never truly learned to stop and step back and give things time to breathe. Putting myself in another person’s shoes is something I’ve forced myself to learn, especially during our adventures.

I have a confession to make. When I (literally) ran into you in Waterdeep a few months ago, it wasn’t just happenstance. I’d come there with a purpose. The downward spiral had begun weeks prior and I was nearing rock bottom. I came to look for you. To see if you were possibly even half as miserable as I was without you. I was certain you would be, and that it would give me a reason to approach you. We would be on common ground and might actually be able to talk. [On the right side of the page, Tav had drawn an open book sitting in a puddle of water in the rain. On the pages of the book it said ‘I’m sorry about the books.’]

But then I saw you. You were in the marketplace, smiling, making small talk with the merchants, even laughing with them. You looked full of life. You looked like you were doing just fine – without me. My heart dropped into my shoes and I’d considered just walking away, never letting you see I was even there. But something in me snapped. I apparently just had to get in a couple more digs before I walked away forever. That was childish and unacceptable and I’m sorry I put you in that position. (I don’t blame you one bit for the Hold Person spell, for the record. I deserved it.) [Tav had drawn the symbol for the Hold Person spell here, along with Tav approves.]

Please forgive me, but I’m emotionally spent. I think I’ll wrap this up to send in the morning, go sit on the back porch with a cup of tea, and just think for a while.

Still yours,

Tav

[Along the left side of the bottom of the page, Tav drew a small flower garden. On the right side, a cup of tea.]

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

My Darling Taviela, [On the right side of the top of the page was carefully drawn an eternity symbol. Inside each side was a heart – a G written in the one on the left, a T written in the one on the right. Next to it, Gale wrote:] (I’ve been doodling this a lot lately.)

My heart aches for you, for us both. You’re right. There’s nothing to forgive anymore. We were both stretched so far beyond our limits, no wonder we broke down. We both have acted out of turn, we both have put ourselves through the wringer, and we both built impossibly high walls around ourselves. I’m happy to say that I believe we can push those walls down now. I want to move forward in whatever way we can, even if that ends up being as friends (though judging by your comments, it doesn’t sound like that will be the case, but please correct me if I’m reading the situation incorrectly).

I have a confession for you, in light of your revelations regarding our “run-in” in the marketplace. It was all an act to save face out in public. The laughter, the ‘life’ you say you saw in me, the light-hearted interactions – they were all a façade. I was miserable without you, however angry I was. After that interaction, it got even worse. I felt awful immediately, leaving you standing there shivering in the rain. [Gale had drawn a hand getting smacked by a ruler with words in a bubble outlined in sharp angles: BAD WIZARD!] I couldn’t believe that, even though there was some provocation, that I’d still reverted to such a childish response. I sank further into my depressive state. I almost didn’t come to the reunion with our companions either, actually. It felt like more of an effort to get myself put together than I was capable of. Fortunately, Tara snapped me out of it.

Speaking of Tara, I’ve been working on getting her to be more understanding. I’m sure you have noticed that her protectiveness of me overrides any kind of empathetic nature towards anyone who has caused me even a lick of hurt. But she’s come a long way in understanding both sides of our…predicament. I’ll keep at it, for both of our sakes. [A trail of small paw prints was drawn after this.]

I’m pleased to say that I’ve been keeping up with the cleaning, [on the right side of the page, Gale doodled a robed hand holding a sparking wand next to two balls of dust that look like rabbits. Underneath was written, (dust bunnies).] I feel like I finally have a handle on my students and my lesson-planning, and I’ve found joy in cooking meals again. Too much time is being spent grading sub-par assignments in the evenings, I’ll admit, but it comes with the territory. My heart has been all the lighter in the last couple of weeks, and it’s all thanks to you: your words, your patience, and willingness to work on…well, us.

What have you been up to lately? Any more adventuring opportunities coming your way? Are you doing any traveling? I wonder if there’s any chance our paths might cross in the near future.

I’ll admit, my mind has been wandering to thoughts of seeing you again. I miss the warmth of your embrace, the sparkle in your smile, the feeling of home when I look into your eyes – I feel like a part of me has been missing since our falling out.

I was actually thinking… What would you say to coming back to Waterdeep for a proper visit?

Take care of yourself, my darling [a filled-in heart was drawn here]

Gale (no fancy drawing in my name this time. Just me, missing you.) [above this, Gale had drawn a side profile of himself from the chest up, looking down, eyes closed, a tear falling from his eye.]

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

The letters had been going back and forth at a regular, weekly pace. It was about six weeks after the reunion, which already seemed like forever ago. They had come so far, and his words made her realize that she missed him more than she knew was possible.

However, when Tav saw the last question in Gale’s letter, she froze. Her chest tightened and her breath quickened. She got dizzy, her hands shook, and her mind raced, tears threatening to overflow onto her cheeks. She was having a panic attack.

She threw the letter in her top desk drawer, slammed it shut, ran down the hall, and pulled the lever for her shower without bothering to warm the water first. Fully clothed, she stood underneath the cold deluge until her breathing slowed and she could process her thoughts.

The nausea was back. She sat on the floor on a towel and just let the water drip off her. Tucking her knees up to her chin, she stared at the wall and focused on her breathing. She wanted nothing more than for Gale to walk in the room right now, pick her up, and hold her in his lap, caressing her hair and whispering comforting words to her until she felt better. But as much as she wanted to feel his arms around her, to smell his scent, to run her fingers through his hair and more, she was absolutely terrified.

All she could think of as she started rocking back and forth was that she was going to end up hurting him again. She cried and cried until she resigned herself to lying down on the floor and crying herself to sleep, shivering in her damp clothes.

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

A week went by and there was no response from Tav. Gale tried to brush it off, attempting to convince himself that perhaps she had gotten a chance to do some traveling, and was running behind sending her letter.

Nine days went by and his resolve started to falter. He replayed every word in his head that he’d written in his last letter. Was he moving ahead too fast? Did he assume too much? Did he push her too far? He ached to see her, to hear her voice, and to comfort her. But he could NOT let himself fuck things up again…

On the tenth day, he sent just a short message in hurried writing, requested for the utmost urgent delivery.

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

Tav,

I’m truly, deeply sorry if I’m pushing you too far. You don’t have to answer the last question. We can continue just writing if that’s what makes you comfortable. I’ll do whatever you need, but I cannot, I will not lose you again.

Please, talk to me, my love.

Gale [A filled in heart was drawn after his name.]

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

Sleep never found him that night. He let his brain run through every worst-case scenario it could come up with. Tears were still crawling down his face every so often as he saw the faintest colors of the dawn coming to greet the eleventh day. Thank the gods he had the next couple of days off for Midsummer…

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

On the afternoon of the twelfth day, Tav’s response arrived. Gale didn’t even go back inside or shut the door. He ripped open the envelope and tried to steady his breathing as his shaky hands held her letter. He let himself take a deep breath and fall back against his door frame as he read:

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

My precious Gale,

I am so very sorry for the delayed response and for making you worry. I don’t know what came over me, but when I saw you asking to see each other again…I panicked. I had a full-on panic attack, after which, I slept for days. I lost all track of what day it was or how much time had gone by. I kept picking up my quill and the words just wouldn’t come. I’m so sorry. Your words in the message I received today snapped me back out of it. Thank you for checking on me. [A filled-in heart was drawn here.]

Gale, I can’t bear the thought of hurting you again. I’m not saying that I don’t want to see you. Believe me, nothing would make me happier. My dreams of getting to be near you, to hold you again, to be held by you, they are my greatest source of comfort. But we haven’t spent any time together in person since the reunion, and we spent months before that acting like completely different people.

What if we can’t change, Gale? What if seeing each other brings out all the anger and spite again? I can’t forgive myself, even if you have. I don’t know what to say – I can’t lose you again either, I won’t survive it. And I fear that I will become upset by something and fall back into my old ways of dealing with arguments: with juvenile pettiness and venomous words. I’m so scared…

In fact, I’m going to deflect now so I don’t dissolve into another panic attack.

To answer your other questions – honestly, adventuring hasn’t happened in a while. I was being truthful at the reunion when I said I’d been adventuring and helping people. But coming back from Waterdeep is when I started to shut everyone out. My house descended into chaotic messes that I didn’t have the energy to clean, I stopped eating regularly, I was drinking at least a bottle of wine a day, and I slept all the time. I have enough money set aside that I can get away with not working for quite a while, but that won’t last forever.

The gardening is going well now though! I haven’t killed so much as a tomato plant! I’m growing flowers and selling bundles here and there. I’m also growing my own vegetables and some fruits, though I haven’t begun selling those yet. I’m getting the itch to start baking, however… I’ve found a great deal of fulfillment in creating (growing) some kind of life now instead of dwelling on the memories of taking it. [Along the left side of the page, she drew a tomato plant crawling up the side. Along the right, she drew a plate of danishes and a cup of tea.]

I’m so sorry again for worrying you. I just froze because I don’t want you to get hurt. I’ll get this sent to you as quickly as I can, but please tell me your thoughts. I’m hoping your insight can be of some comfort.

With all my heart,

Your Tav

[At the bottom of the letter, Tav drew the same symbol Gale had been doodling on everything he could: the eternity symbol with the hearts in the middle, one with a G, one with a T. Next to it, she wrote:] (I tried… Yours looks much nicer.)

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

My sweet Taviela, [Their infinity symbol with hearts and their initials was on the top right.]

Thank you for explaining the reason for the delay. I completely understand, and I’m sorry to have caused you to panic. If I may offer some encouragement, however, perhaps I can help quiet your heart.

Neither of us are under anywhere near the amount of pressure and stress that we were at the time back in Baldur’s Gate. We are taking care of ourselves now as individuals, fully independent of others, and neither is a crutch for the other. This bodes well for quelling any fears of being too dependent on each other for our own good.

We’ve seen what damage can be done by careless words and actions, and we’ve walked back from that ledge – together. Now we’ll be more aware of the warning signs should we become frustrated with each other again. We’ve talked about what we can do to avoid arguments in the future, like walking away for a breather, should we need to. Lest you have any unrealistic expectations, please remember that we will become frustrated with each other and we will likely have some arguments. That’s only natural for any two beings that have a close relationship. But we have some experience now and wisdom gained. I truly believe that we can be better for each other. We can change. Together. [A filled in heart is drawn here along the left side of the page.]

If you are comfortable thinking about the possibility of visiting, I have a proposition for you. Some simple guidelines that will help keep us in check as we try spending time together again, under completely different circumstances.

-          I will get you set up in a lovely room at The Yawning Portal for one week. The bartender owes me a favor for clearing out some riffraff a few weeks ago. Then you can have a place you feel comfortable retreating to without feeling trapped in my tower, should you wish to get some space.

-          So as to not put too much pressure on either of us too quickly, we can have a date each day, but we don’t spend the entire day together (at least not every day). It may be midsummer, but I still have regular responsibilities with the academy that I need to see to. Besides, that will give us time to individually reflect on our time together and how we’re feeling.

-          At the end of the week, we can talk about how things have gone and what direction we should go at that point. We won’t pressure each other, and we’ll agree that we won’t be disappointed if one person needs more time than the other. Above all, we need to make sure our friendship stays in tact.

So, what do you say? Look! I even got Tara’s stamp of approval! [On the side of the page is an ink pawprint.] (Do you have any idea how much convincing it took to get her to put her paw in ink? I owe her tuna for weeks…)

I won’t pressure you, but if you’re amenable to this plan, we can do this as soon as you’d like – even next week. Having said all that, if you still want to take things slower and keep writing letters for now, I will fully support that decision and be delighted to keep doing so.

If you will allow me, however, I would like to make one last plea: I want to see you, Taviela. I need to see you. My heart aches for you and my arms feel so painfully empty without you in them. I long to curl my fingers into your hair, to hear your contended sighs, to be lit up inside by your laughter, and, when you’re ready, to make love to you and cover you in affectionate, healing kisses until every hurtful word we’ve ever exchanged is erased from memory itself.

I know you’re scared, my darling. But I believe in us. I believe things will be different this time around. I hope and pray to every god and goddess who will listen that you can find it in your heart to take the risk.

Come here to me, my love, and we can keep walking our way forward - together. [A filled in heart is drawn here.]

I eagerly await your reply, whatever it may be.

Yours always,

Gale [A doodle of a wand surrounded by stars is by his name.]

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

Tav’s hands trembled. Gods, she missed him so much it physically hurt. Especially now that she knew how much he was missing her as well. Sitting at her desk, she re-read his last full paragraph with tears flooding her vision and heart filling her chest, not to mention a familiar heat between her thighs. She knew at that moment that her desire and her renewed trust in Gale Dekarios FINALLY outweighed her fears. She didn’t even need to think about her response. It was short and sweet:   

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

Gale, my love, [Their eternity/hearts/initials symbol was drawn on the top right.]

I’ll set out tomorrow by horse from Daggerford and will arrive at the Yawning Portal on Sunday evening around dinner time. I sincerely hope your arms will be waiting for me, because I’ll be rushing into them the moment I see you. [A filled-in heart was drawn in.]

Just don’t be holding a stack of books this time… [ Tav had drawn a doodle of a winking face here.]

Yours always,

Tav

P.S. I doubt we’ll be waiting long for those healing kisses… I know we’re going to space out our time together, but stay with me the first night? Help me “settle in” to Waterdeep? [Tav sketched a set of lip prints in the bottom right.]

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

Tears fell from Gale’s eyes, but happy ones this time. He could tell his cheeks were flushed too from her “P.S.”… He laughed at her jab about the books, then folded up the letter and brought it to his lips, kissing the edge she would have folded with her soft hands.

He had planning to do. 

[lunarheslwt]

28th appreciation fic recs: January edition

Hi! Welcome to the first fic rec list of 2024! I wanted to put together all the fics I've read and loved over January for this month's 28th appreciation, so here they are! Click on the links for full tags and summaries. If you read any of these make sure to show the authors some love by leaving kudos and comments, and sharing any fic posts!

🌸 Morning comes by @nooradeservedbetter

(5k / E / Sub Top L, Dom bottom H)

The stranger gestures at what they’re wearing, and oh, it’s not a shirt, it’s a white crop top, black lettering star against it. It says I ♡ SUBMISSIVE MEN in bold, capital letters.

Thoughts: we simply need more pwps that explore dynamics like this, this was delicious, and I looove how natural the chemistry between them felt. So good.

🌸 Dreaming of a green Christmas by @hellolovers13

(4k / E / Size queen L, xmas smut)

Harry opens the wrong package by mistake and finds the sex toy Louis ordered for himself. That's not an opportunity Harry can pass up on.

Thoughts: its never too late to indulge in some christmas smut, its got size queen L ffs what are you waiting for!! Its hot, its a snack to be devoured, it's a little gift, in short.

🌸 Sweet baby by @jishlerfics

(5k / E / kink discovery)

“Haz,” he said, “do you like being held down?” Taking a shaky breath, Harry finally looked Louis in the eyes. “I think so.”

Thoughts: this is part one of a series that I'm excited to read. This is perfect and sweet and hot in every way possible, i loved it so much.

🌸 Revelatory experience by @justanothershadeofblue

(3k / E / religion kink)

Harry's not sure if it's the sound of Louis' voice, the thrill of the forbidden, or just that he's really fucking horny, but he's about to find out how well the velvet cushion in this dark little wooden booth hides a stain.

Thoughts: this was so fucking hot. Like, they're in a confession booth. That should be enough of an appetizer for y'all to go read this!

🌸 Jaerie's Kinktober: Sounding by @jaerie

(3k / E / sounding)

Louis has been casually dating Harry for a while, but tonight he plans to stay in for a much needed stress relief night of self love. He unexpectedly shares that particular love with Harry. When they discover this, they go all in.

Thoughts: so hot. We need more sounding fics. Meanwhile, do yourself a favor and indulge in this. Also love the lil bit of imperfect sex at the end.

🌸 With a sea view by @greeneyesfriedrice

(5k / E / boat smut)

Stepping onto the main deck, Harry grabs a maroon towel, squeezing all the water he can out of his hair, though it’s similar to how a dog dries off after a bath. He doesn’t bother drying the rest of his body, that’s what suntanning is for. He places the towel into a small bin and looks around. Time to find Louis.

Thoughts: so goddamn hot. But also very sweet and they're so in love which is a god tier combination. Laur never has a miss.

🌸 Heaven in these sheets by @thepolourryexpress

(3k / E / bunny! hybrid Louis)

“Bunny wants attention, hm?” Harry murmurs, turning his head and brushing his cheek against Louis’. Louis lets out a pleased noise at the feeling, ear flopping over Harry’s head as the man moves. “Please,” Louis pouts lightly, scraping his nails gently over Harry’s chest. “C’mon.” Or, Bunny Hybrid Louis has it out for his boyfriend’s phone.

Thoughts: bunny Louis is so sweet and precious, harry is the ever doting bf, and it just makes for delicious smut that also just made me feel!!!!

🌸 Mr Tomlinson by @canonlarry

(4k / E / CEO omega L)

Louis is a billionaire CEO who makes grown men cry and rival companies crumble. He's also an omega. Harry is the quiet cupcake of a man he calls his alpha and the only one who gets to see Louis as anything less than fearsome

Thoughts: powerful ceo to all, gets taken care of by partner behind doors is such a fav trope of mine and this one is SO good. I loved this one so so much.

🌸 it's always me that ends up getting wet by @loveislarryislove

(2k / E / role play, dubcon fantasy)

As Louis takes a step towards the stairs to look for his husband, his eye lands on the small round table at the foot of the staircase. It's thin and spindly, so they don't usually use it for much besides decoration. But today, there are three objects sitting on top of it. A blue policeman's hat. A small, silver key, that Louis recognizes as belonging to a pair of handcuffs. And a note, written in Harry's distinctive handwriting: I'm waiting for you downstairs ;)

Thoughts: this was so insanely good, I love a good roleplay fic and I ate this up. Every single word in this was addictive.

This is a short list, bc I've been really busy and tired. But I hope I get to read more next month. Anyways If you check these out, give these works some love. Fic writers I love youuuu X

[evenmoreofadisaster]

Click here for the link to the chapter :)

Edit: I’d hold off on reading this chapter until the issue with ao3 is resolved (´∀｀)

Edit 2: I've posted a copy of the fic under the cut, for those who still want to read it :)

The Fast and the Furriest

Running errands with Splinter was definitely not what One had planned for the day. Yet, somehow, the rat had managed to abduct One to a dirty place called ‘Walmart’ across the city, which had to be the farthest possible route to a grocery store EVER. As if the surprise journey wasn’t horrifying enough, One was practically forced to witness Splinter squeeze into skin-tight jeans and an ugly tie-dye shirt too snug for the fat around his tummy. The only way One could avoid the displeasing sight was to turn around and put on a disguise of his own. 

Unlike Splinter’s bold choice of wardrobe, the rat had brought a loose hoodie for One to wear, blue and way too bright to be an effective disguise. 

The long and unpleasant trip took half of the day, at least. One was stealthy enough to smuggle every item on Splinter’s prolonged list without getting caught by security, but the rodent didn’t seem to care. If One didn’t know any better, he’d think the unwarranted detour was Splinter’s annoying way of genuinely trying to spend time with him. But the slider is far too clever to be fooled by the rat’s fake pleasantries. 

By the time One returns to the lair, both of his arms are burdened from wrist to shoulder with the majority of his and Splinter’s “purchases”. The rat himself carries a single bag into the kitchen. 

“Boys!” the rodent calls as he places the items carefully onto the counter. One follows Splinter into the room and drops the remaining plastic bags next to the essentials. 

“What’s this?” Two’s voice pierces through the near-silent air. When he looks up, One catches his brother’s scrutinizing eye from the entryway, where the living room blends into the kitchen. One matches his twin’s glare with a steady look that reflects the slider’s incredible tolerance for his brother’s temper. 

The stare-off is promptly disrupted when the orange one walks in between them on his way to the counter. “Oh, sweet!” The younger turtle exclaims as he begins taking the grocery items out of the ripped bags. “You got stuff for dinner.” 

Splinter helps with putting the items in their proper place. “Yes, Blue is a natural at… acquiring our necessities.”

One breaks eye contact with Two and forces a prideful smirk towards the rat and his “son”, ignoring the small portion of his ego that triumphs over the compliment. “Yeah, did you know you can get onions for free if you just take them without paying?”

“Aw, that’s great,” Orange coos. 

Two scoffs from the other end of the kitchen as he trots inside. “Spirits, I wonder why that could be,” he declares, then grabs One tightly by the arm, “— and sidebar,” the softshell mutters and pulls One aside.  

“Hey— what?” One protests. 

“What are you doing?” Two hisses. “We have a mission.”

“Hey, Raph. Catch!” Mikey shouts. One looks up, watching the orange-clad turtle toss a jar towards his older brother as Red joins him in the kitchen. 

“Woah!” The snapping turtle just barely catches the jar as it’s thrown. Just past him, the rat faces away from the boys to put some cereal away, one ear swiveled in One and Two’s direction.

One’s brows pull together tightly as he looks back at his brother, yanking his arm free to snatch Two roughly by the collar and drag him further out of earshot. If this conversation is going where One thinks it’s going, it would be much better to talk about it in the tunnels. 

“Yeah, I know,” One retorts. “What do you think I’ve been doing?”

Two squirms. “Frankly? Slacking,” he bites back. One drops his brother when he feels they’re far enough to not be overheard. 

Two whirls around. “Aren't you supposed to be a leader?”

“We’ve been over this,” One groans in mild annoyance. “I'm just buttering them up,” he explains. Honestly, it feels like he’s done so a hundred times. “Everything's under control.”

“It’s been weeks,” Two argues, “and we have made no discernible progress.”

“Trust me, it's all part of the plan.”

One notices the way Two’s jaw tightens in response to his excuse. One knows his brother well enough to know when he’s about to blow. “What plan?” Two snarls. “There is no plan, I don't see a plan!” Two throws his arm out, voice rising with his large gesture. “What is that over there I wonder?! NOT A PLAN!”

“Keep your voice down,” One hisses. 

“I’m not going back empty handed.”

One pauses and regards his brother for a moment, noticing his clenched fists, bared teeth, and the sharp glint in his eye. The slider counters Two’s posture, leaning back and crossing his arms coolly.

“Why are you upset?” he asks flatly. 

Two bites his cheek. “I’m not upset,” he counters. “You’re not taking this seriously.”

“Not taking this seriously?” One scoffs, rolling his eyes.  “Okay, you’re not in charge. I am.”

“I am simply thinking about the mission,” Two argues. “To be successful, we need–”

One cuts him off. “That’s not your job. Your job is to follow orders,” he reminds his brother blatantly, flicking him in the forehead. Two flinches back with a hiss, but One doesn’t quit there. He steps forward and jabs a finger into Two’s plastron. “When you question me, you question Dad,” he continues without missing a beat, locking his brother in a firm gaze to make sure that he receives the final part of the message, loud and clear. 

“Remember your place.”

Two’s shoulders stiffen, eyes flashing furiously but he doesn't argue. 

One backs off with a stiff sigh. Really, what does Two have to worry about? All his brother needs to do is relax and let him do his thing! But One could see that Two is having a hard time accepting that. Again. His brother is smart, but sometimes he thinks too much. 

The slider plants a hand on his hip and leans his weight on the same foot as he looks out of the tunnel, watching the Hamato family with disdain. If he could move this along faster, he would. But he needs to be careful. ‘Cause one wrong move could blow his cover and then what would he do? Start over? The likelihood of ever getting close to the Hamatos again is second to none. Especially since two of them are already suspicious of him. 

He needs to change that.

One’s keen eye zeroes in on the rat, who is the more obvious threat to his plan. These past few days, the slider has noticed Splinter’s “subtle” ways of diverting One’s attention whenever he’s about to make a move. Which makes it almost impossible for him to do anything without getting caught— which is frustrating. And the lingering mass of questions surrounding the rat is just one more reason why he needs to be dealt with. And quickly. Before he ruins everything. 

“We’ll get them,” One tells his brother, though his eyes don’t drift from Splinter. “Just play along until then.”

He can’t see Two’s face from where he’s standing, focused on the rat, but One can practically feel the tension emanating from his twin’s scales. He’s not as reassured as One would like him to be, but he knows that his brother won’t step too far out of line. And that’s good enough for now. 

The rest of the evening was smooth-sailing. In other words, boring. One had taken his difficult brother back to the group, where they were preparing for dinner. As One observed them, he decided that the best time to take care of the rat is when everyone is asleep. But first, he’d need to know what he’s getting into— or rather who he’s trying to take down. Always know your enemy.

The slider winds skillfully through the dark tunnels as he hunts for the rat’s dwelling several hours later. He had made sure to note everyone’s whereabouts beforehand so he could snoop around. He discovered Raph and Mikey to be asleep in their rooms. Splinter was on the sofa. 

It takes longer than expected, but One finally makes it to the two sliding doors. The shadows peek through a narrow slit between the doors, inviting the slider into the cryptic rat’s bedroom. 

A sour expression twists One’s face when his enhanced lenses adjust to the darkness. The slider looks around the absolute mess of a room in exasperation. 

How the hell am I supposed to find anything with all this junk?!

One’s claws twitch impatiently at his side as he debates moving forward. But with a lot of mental effort, he proceeds.

 “Eugh,” One groans in disgust when stepping by a rotting pizza box. 

As he explores the dump, One finds a modest cabinet flush against the wall to his left. There’s a sign, sloppily made, taped to one of the shelves, reading: DO NOT TOUCH. Which can only mean there’s something in there that Splinter doesn’t want anybody to see. In other words, I am going to touch everything on that shelf.  

One leaps silently over to the cabinet and rustles through the shelves, looking for something— anything that will give him a sliver of information about who Splinter could be. But after digging through the collection of items… he finds nothing. 

A terse growl erupts from the back of One’s throat. There’s nothing. Nothing. Just more junk. 

One’s hands jump to the next shelf just when something clatters to the floor, snapping his attention to the ground. He tilts his head in interest as his lenses focus on the artifact. One bends down and picks up the round object, too big to be a coin. A medal, maybe? One’s thumb brushes the surface of the object before turning it over. 

Engraved in the center of the stone is the Hidden City’s symbol. One raises an eyebrow. This is a gateway into the city. A key, they call it. The people who carry these are typically active or retired criminals. Usually thieves and smugglers, who like to pass freely in and between the Yokai and Human realms. People who have challenged the law before and aren’t afraid to risk crossing the line again. Or, even worse, the people who are paid to do it— like bounty hunters or agents of the council, who like to zap in wherever they like and snatch their victims. The slider’s brows pull together tight. If there’s one thing One detests, it's the thick-skulled thugs the government throws money at to get its self-righteous shady shit done. 

So why would the rat have a key?

One’s fist tightens around the stone. This isn’t enough. This isn’t an answer, this is just another question. He’s just going around in circles that keep spiraling deeper and darker. Who is this rat? Who does he work for? What does he want? What does he want with them? One’s claws cut into his gloves and through his skin, drawing a thin layer of blood. I don’t need more questions, I need answers. 

A dull scrape cuts One’s ears and he’s blinded by light suddenly pouring into his peripheral vision. One jumps and knocks his elbow into the shelf, then spins around quickly. The contacts quickly adjust to the brightened lighting but his nictitating membrane stays closed protectively over his eyes. The curtains open, revealing a stout shadow in the doorway. 

 “Blue.”

Splinter stands where the light bleeds into the dark of the room. One’s eyes narrow in the rat’s direction as he silently puts the key back on the shelf. 

There’s a pause. “Come with me,” Splinter says. The muscles in One’s shoulders tighten. He releases his claws from their curled fists, eyeing the rat cautiously, searching for tells. But regardless of whether or not the rat has caught onto his snooping, One steps forward and lets the old man take him wherever he wants to go.

They both stay silent as they walk. One eyes the rat, mind lingering on the key. The very same kind he saw frequently as a child, when he and his family were on the run.

There are too many unknown variables. No innocent bystander would have a key like that. But at this rate, digging up the doubtless piles of dirt on the rat will take longer than One can afford. He needs to get rid of the rat before he stops his friendly charade and becomes a threat. Besides, they can’t have any loose ends scurrying around the sewers when One finally puts this game to an end. 

One follows Splinter willingly into the garage, and checks over his shoulder to make sure that the door closes behind them. The slider keeps about three paces behind his target, watching his every move and waiting for the right moment to strike. The garage is isolated and sound proof. Two had transformed the neglected but generous space into the perfect place to work without grating One’s eardrums or burning his scales while he slept. It’s also the perfect place to exterminate a victim. He should thank his brother for his convenient engineering later.

One watches Splinter whip out Two’s keys to the tank. One remembers his brother telling him how he had just finished working on it, but needed a chance to test it out before they could use it. Personally, the whole tank idea seemed pretty useless, since One can just open up mystic portals to go wherever whenever he feels like it. Well, almost. Frustratingly enough, his weapon’s magic can only carry him so far before his heart either falters or gives out.

Before One can close in on his target, Splinter jumps up on the vehicle, using the side mirror as a foothold to reach the roof of the tank. The corner of One’s lip twitches upward in annoyance. He needs to be quicker. 

One joins Splinter on the roof of the car just as the rat finishes opening the top hatch. Splinter drops inside by the time One has the opportunity to make another move. The slider huffs, but jumps in after him. 

Okay, there’s literally nowhere to run, One thinks as he rises to his full height in the tank’s central control bay. The slider doesn’t waste another second after he stands before he leaps forward and swipes his sharp claws at the back of Splinter’s head. 

But Splinter jumps into the driver's seat impossibly quick, dodging One’s attack effortlessly. The hard-hitting miss makes One stumble forward. “Shit,” he curses under his breath, but quickly regains his footing and swipes at Splinter again, who ducks just in time to put the keys in the ignition. 

One misses— again— but he catches himself against the wall of the tank. His jaw is tight as he glares down at Splinter, who’s preoccupied with starting the vehicle. As the rat sits up, One leans off the wall and waits impatiently for Splinter to settle before going in for another attack. 

As he moves, Splinter punches him in the stomach with his tail and sends One crashing into the passenger's seat. “Ugh!” One grunts, then stubbornly climbs out of the seat as Splinter slams his foot on the gas pedal and speeds out of the garage. One flies into the rounded and sealed back hatch. 

Now in a heap on the floor, the slider gruffly and unhelpfully recalls the lecture he gave Two about how they absolutely don’t need a tank, but Two was still riding the high of his looting expedition and insisted it would come in handy. One’s current ordeal would be a great counterpoint to his brother’s outlandish claim. 

As if this assassination couldn’t have gone worse, the rat decides to butcher One’s eardrums by blaring ‘80s music on max volume. While the rodent speeds the two of them onto the streets of New York City, One scrambles to the front of the tank, but slides and crashes into the wall when Splinter makes a sharp turn. 

“What the hell?!” One cries over the ear-grating music. 

“Buckle up!” Splinter shouts, though One has a hard time hearing his orders. 

“What?!” he yells. 

The tank comes to a quick stop at a red light and Splinter grabs him roughly by the belt and forces him into a seat, buckling him up tightly in one fluid motion. As the stoplight flashes green and the traffic clears, One watches in horror as the old rat flips neon orange, ‘80’s style shades over his beady eyes and floors it. One swallows a scream as the sudden acceleration crushes him into the seat.

“Woohoo! Isn’t this fun?!” Splinter exclaims, then sends the tank flying into a 360° spin on the surprisingly open road.  

One grips the edge of his seat tight, claws tearing through the leather as if it were paper. When they continue on a straight path, the slider quickly unbuckles himself and slams his fist into the radio. The music cuts off sharply with a dying warble and soon the only thing filling the tense silence is One’s heavy breathing. 

“What is wrong with you?” One snarls. 

“Wh— rude. Didn't your alchemist teach you a good music taste?” Splinter retorts, making One pause and stare at the rat. 

“What?”

One doesn’t recall ever mentioning Draxum in the rat’s presence. He’s made every conscious effort not to, in case Splinter turned out to be one of those bounty hunters or some shit, always after his dad’s ass. Which One thinks he could be, despite his unassuming… everything.  

“Sit down!” Splinter orders before hitting the curb. 

The tank bounces, knocking One back into his seat, though the slider doesn’t take his prying eyes off the rat. “How do you know about Draxum?”

Splinter’s ear twitches, muscles going stiff. “Uh—! Who doesn't know about Draxum, really.”

In any other circumstance, One might’ve brushed right past Splinter’s awkward defense. Because, really, it’s true. Draxum’s wanted posters used to be plastered all across the Hidden City. He and Two even gifted their father a framed copy for his birthday after they noticed their dwindling numbers. But literally everything else about that statement— the way Splinter said it, the way he avoids glancing in One’s general direction— makes One call bullshit. He’s hiding something. 

One leans over the armchair, and narrows his eyes. “Who are you?”

Tell me, you old rat. I need to know. I need to know if you’re a threat to my mission. I need to know that my brother is safe.  

From where he’s sitting, One thinks he can see sweat glistening under the rodent’s fur, but Splinter doesn’t give him a good chance to wonder if that’s because he’s nervous or because of his reckless driving. 

“I am about to take a right,” is One’s only warning before Splinter suddenly swerves in that direction. 

One is thrown to the left, but catches himself on the other armrest with a grunt.

Splinter erupts into a fit of laughter and One feels his jaw tighten. “Oh, Blue! You are a riot, aren’t you?” 

The slider whips his head around and snaps fiercely, totally unamused. “Okay, what’s the point of this?! Just tell me what I want to know!”

Splinter doesn’t seem to have noticed his little outburst as his laughter still echoes obnoxiously   off of the tank’s walls. “Oh, uh. Yes. What do you want to know?” 

“Who are you?” One presses again. “What do you want with us?”

“Want with you?”

“You have two genetically mutated experiments living in that dump you call a home and you have a key to the hidden city. Why?” He demands. 

“Oh, that old thing?” Splinter pauses as he breaks at another stoplight. “Uh… I think it’s broken. What do you want with that?”

One scoffs, but he forces his voice to relax into an even tone. “Broken?” he asks flatly. Yeah, right. 

The light turns green and Splinter continues down the road in a more calm manner. 

“Yes. I am not surprised,” Splinter smiles to himself. “I learnt very quickly that my boys are very rambunctious. I had my hands full with just the two of them.” He falters, “Although… sometimes I wonder if it may have been easier if I had all of you.”

One could never guess, for the life of him, why Splinter would think that. The very thought of growing up in the sewers with this weird family makes One sick to the stomach, so he doesn’t dwell on it too much. “Probably not.”

“You remind me of Orange,” Splinter says, catching One off-guard and making him cringe. The rat’s tired eyes soften on the road. “He would ask so many questions when he was much smaller. Still does.”

The accusation leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, but as much as One hates being compared to someone so small and inferior, he brushes off the jab for the sake of his mission. “Yeah? I guess it runs in the family.”

“Yes,” Splinter agrees after a moment. “I am glad you are back with our family.”

One falters. Our family. One’s stomach twists. Our family. Really, he should be thrilled that his plan is working so well, but the heavy sincerity in Splinter’s voice makes him worry that his plan is working a little too well. 

One scoffs and eyes the rat awkwardly. “Really?”

“Yes,” Splinter says simply. “You asked me before who I am. I am a father and you are my son. Even if you do not trust me, what I truly want is for you and your brother to know that you have a home with us. You are safe here.”

And One is so glad that the rat’s old eyes are fixed on the road, because he is having a very difficult time processing Splinter’s response. 

You have a home. You’re safe. 

There’s a very clear and obvious difference in the rat’s voice. There’s no more deflecting, no awkward shuffling around the truth. He’s being genuine. The thought churns the slider’s stomach.

Still, One’s suspicions aren’t so easily discarded. 

One watches Splinter for a long time before he asks, “Why am I here?”

“Oof…” Splinter winces and rubs the back of his neck. “That is… a loaded question.”

“I mean in the truck. Why did you bring me out here?” Why, if he poses no threat, did Splinter decide to drag him away from his temporary “home”, from his brother? If he’s supposed to feel safe, why isolate him?

Splinter raises an eyebrow. “Oh, can I not have a pleasant casual outing with my son?”

Oh. Well, that’s stupid. 

“That’s it?” One says flatly. He thinks back to the grocery trip earlier that day. “You wanted to ‘spend time’ with me?”

Just behind the shades, the rat’s expression turns depressing after the question, which makes One very uncomfortable for some reason. “Is that so hard to believe?”

Before One can answer, the tank comes to an abrupt stop, sending both One and Splinter forwards. 

“What? What happened?!” Splinter cries in distress, shifting the clutch around. 

One groans and pushes himself upright. “I have a pretty good idea,” he mumbles. Right as he says it, a robotic voice filters in through the speakers. 

“Shopping cart protocol activated,” the voice says. 

“Ugh, I don’t suppose you know how to fix this thing?” Splinter asks.

As One leans back, he watches Splinter rifle through the glove compartment. “No,” he replies blatantly. “Not really my domain.” 

Splinter pulls out a wrench. “Ah, then we will figure it out together.”

One doesn’t respond, but watches Splinter as he leaves the vehicle and walks around to the front, opening the hood to mess around with the engine underneath it. 

The slider thinks about his next move carefully. After some very clever detective work, One’s concluded that whatever sob story motivated the rat to adopt a couple stray turtles really doesn’t pose any kind of threat to his plan. In fact, a devoted father could become useful. 

It takes Splinter about ten seconds to realize One is still in the tank. “What are you still doing in there!?”

As lame as it may be, Splinter’s expecting him to help. Though he’d rather get his head shoved through a beehive, the slider decides to hop out and join the rat. For the sake of the mission. 

When he makes it to the front of the vehicle, One finds Splinter sticking his nose right into the engine. The slider raises a brow and peers into the interior of the hood, where Splinter is working and bashing the wrench into the tank’s engine. 

“I thought you were trying to fix this thing, not break it more,” One chimes in after a moment. 

“Yes,” Splinter says, smacking the engine again and rearing his hand back for another strike. “That is what I am doing!” 

One watches unhelpfully as Splinter continues to beat the tank’s engine into complacency. With unsurprisingly no luck, the tank remains immobile. 

“Well, well, well!” a low voice rumbles behind them. One spins around, eyes shooting up to greet their ugly guest. 

“Yeesh, that face isn’t hard to forget,” One mumbles as he immediately recognizes Experiment 00E1-Alpha 9, or as One remembers Raph referring to the sweaty pig as ‘Meat Sweats’, which he hates to admit is a much better name. 

“Oh, good! Could we catch a ride with you?” Splinter asks the large mutant. “This baby's done all she can for us,” he says mournfully as he pats the closed hood. 

Meat Sweats’s mouth twists into a smile. “But of course. I was just whipping up a meal, too. Perhaps you could join me.”

Splinter looks past him, at the food truck. “Oh, good! I was getting hungry,” he chuckles and willingly walks over to the food truck. One figures he’s probably unaware of the pig’s cannibalistic habits and the slider has no intention of warning him. 

His straying blue eyes drift up to Meat Sweats, whose crooked smile gives One goosebumps. One considers bailing… but a distant… familiar… angry voice rings down the street. Everyone looks up. 

“HEY!” 

One whips his head around, instantly spotting Two perched on the roof of a nearby building. He leaps down with Raph and Mikey beside him and advances with a burning gaze directed right at One.

One winces. Screw that. 

His brother’s wrath is a force to be reckoned with, and One has just spent much more energy than he was willing to expend handling the rat. Number Two is the very last thing he wants to deal with right now, and his brother’s furious march right towards him makes hopping into Meat Sweats’ murder van seem a lot more bearable. 

Apparently, Splinter has the same idea. “Uh-oh. That is our cue to get out of here!” he says quickly before jumping into the food truck. One turns without a word and follows Splinter inside, where he is already leaping into the front seat. 

“Blue, take the wheel!”

“Wait, what?!” Meat Sweats cries in protest after joining the pair inside. 

At the same time, One’s head swivels around. “What?”

“Go!” Splinter shouts, crouching to the floor and hitting the gas pedal with his front paws. Meat Sweats is thrown backwards as the truck launches forward. 

One grabs the back of the driver’s seat for balance, but as Splinter speeds up, the vehicle starts to swerve uncontrollably. One catches the wheel as he falls into the seat. The second he has a grip on the truck, and its direction in his firm control, his eyes light up like a kid with a new toy. He realizes now that he’s never driven a car before and it is thrilling. 

And, he’s pretty good at it. His turns are rough, but considering the speed they’re going and the fact that they haven’t crashed yet, One is pretty confident that he’s uncovered a hidden talent.

That is, until something rams into the truck's rear. 

One grunts as his upper body jerks forward. He steals a glance at the rearview mirror, and sees that his brother and his tank are right on his tail. Through the windshield, One catches Raphael yelling something to Two, who ignores him and slams another button on his console. A second after, three loud clangs reverberate in Meat Sweats’s truck, and One whips around to see three round dents hammered into the truck’s hull.

“Ohoho, so that’s how you wanna play it?” He taunts his brother in spirit right before he yanks the emergency brake and stops the truck completely. The two vehicles collide instantly, with the tank rear-ending the food truck. One faintly hears more shouting from the tank, which swerves but doesn’t stop. Though they’ve crashed, the tank’s strength and speed keeps both vehicles racing across Brooklyn Bridge. 

“My truck!” Meat Sweats wails.

“What are you doing?!” Splinter shouts over the sound of screeching rubber as One jumps out of his seat. 

The slider unsheathes his ōdachi weapon and draws a wide circle in the air, making a portal that he can step into and onto the roof of the truck so that Two can see him. 

“Is that the best you can do?!” One goads his brother, flashing his sharp canines in a toothy grin, which earns a muffled shriek of outrage from his brother.

“You pretentious, self-obsessed, WRITHING LITTLE MAGGOT!” Two barks loudly enough for One to hear. His brother’s next course of action is to pull a lever, which releases metal appendages that reach up and shoot at One.  

The slider veers out of the way and cuts effortlessly through the appendages. When the path is clear for him to cross, One leaps onto the hood of the tank and flourishes his ōdachi. He gives Two an obnoxious grin before stabbing his weapon through the metal, killing the engine. He tugs the sword free and swings it back in an arc to rest on his shoulder. As soon as he does, the portal he cut into the back of the truck blinks to life. 

As the tank sputters and dies, One steps back coolly into the portal that takes him into the truck so he can rejoin Splinter at the front. The slider smirks as he leans against the emergency break to unlock it. “Floor it,” he commands. 

Splinter cackles and pushes into the gas pedal. The food truck surges forwards as it regains its own speed. 

“Wait— argh!” Meat Sweats cries as he flies back through One’s portal and out on the road. Oops.

One and Splinter only get a few leagues further down the bridge before something suddenly thuds against the truck and pulls, sending it into a spin back towards the tank. 

“Hey!” Splinter shouts and One grunts, holding on tight.

When the truck finally stops, One has a clear view of the scene at the tank through the truck’s windshield.

Two stands on the smoking hood with a massive cannon aiming over his shoulder and into Meat Sweat’s face. The tank’s final appendage holds the larger mutant tightly in place as he cowers from the giant weapon. 

“Bring them to me.”

Meat Sweats raises his hands and One barely has the time to make an escape before two tentacles shoot at the truck and punch through its sides. They snatch up One and Splinter and pull them out, dropping them unceremoniously just outside of the tank. 

“Ow!” One hisses.

“Take the rotten lot,” the mutant sneers, although One catches beads of sweat rolling down his jaw. “I’ve had it with them.”

“Two!” Mikey cries behind the softshell. He flicks his kusari-fundo and One follows the trail of its cord behind him as the end unlatches from around the truck. He narrows his eyes.  

As he faces forwards, One sees his brother hold his position a moment longer before his shoulder twitches and he powers down his weapon.

“Get out of my sight,” he hisses and Meat Sweats scrambles back. He glares at Two then the rest of the group.

“Blasted turtles.” The mutant chef snorts and turns, retreating to his vehicle. “I’ll just get takeaway!”

They all listen to the sound of his tires screeching off into the city. After a brief pause, Two turns around.

“I wasn’t going to kill him,” Two huffs. 

“Oh, really?” Mikey replies, unconvinced. 

“It was set to stun.” Two grumbles. “It would be idiotic to murder my own experiment.” 

“What?” Raph says. 

Two ignores the last statement and swivels his head around. His brother’s sharpened gaze falls on One and the fire in his eyes blazes. He snarls and steps down from the tank.

“YOU.”

One sighs and stands, but doesn’t have long before Two reaches him. 

“You’re DEAD!” Two lunges at his brother. One grunts as his shell hits the asphalt roughly. He fights Two off with a hiss, swatting at him and kicking. Two fights back with just as much fire, managing to grab One’s right arm and press his knee into his plastron. 

For the most part, One lets his brother push him down, generously allowing the softshell to beat him up a bit, since he’s down an arm. One waits patiently for the moment when Two’s grip lets up. As soon as that opportunity presents itself, One takes advantage and flips them around, swinging Two towards him and shifting out of the way just in time to shove him into the asphalt with a knee pressed into his back, careful to steer clear of the sharp spikes raised along the spine of Two’s shell. Two grunts.

One holds his brother down with one arm as he squirms. “Okay, you need to relax!”  

Two yelps and flails his arm. “You took my tech!” He barks. “It’s still in beta and you ruined it! How could you do that!?”

“It’s fine! It’ll survive a scratch or two.”

“It’ll take weeks to find a replacement!”

“You’ll find it.”

Two throws his elbow back and One has to dodge the sharp point of its armor. “What if you got your stupid arm blown off, idiot!” Two seethes.

One pushes back and Two gets a gentle face full of dirt. “Oho, you’re lecturing me about losing a limb?”

Two growls. “Don’t start–”

“Which one of us is the one who nearly died in that accident? Oh right, it was you.” One pokes at the folded fabric covering Two’s stub. “So don’t you dare scold me about my lack of self-preservation.”

Two shoves against One with a warning hiss. One hisses back. 

While the boys are busy with their squabble, Splinter walks by and takes a good look at the tank, which has stopped smoking. “Excellent job, Purple. This is a sweet ride.”

Both boys freeze. For a second One and Two stare incredulously at Splinter. When he looks at his brother, One sees Two’s eyes blown open wide, completely speechless. It’s an expression One hasn’t seen since Draxum last applauded Two’s skillset forever ago. One’s eyes jump back to Splinter, who is gazing approvingly at the tank.

What? That thing?  

One scoffs, muttering, “It’s not that great…” as he pushes off his brother, who’s still too stunned to comment.

“What was that? Is everyone okay?” Raph asks, joining them on the bridge.

Splinter faces his son. “Yes, we are okay,” he assures. 

Red glances uneasily at One before he looks at Splinter. “Okay… good.”

Mikey jumps up next to him, crouched low enough to rub his cheek on Splinter’s. “I’m glad you're okay, Dad,” he churs. Splinter smiles softly and pats his head. “Now, let’s go home!”

As everyone piles into the tank, One falls behind to watch what Splinter considers to be their family. He watches stiffly as Two opens the hood and excitedly shows Splinter what appears to be a backup engine. Something cold and greedy writhes restlessly under his scales. 

His thoughts are interrupted before he can dwell on them too much.

“One!” Raph calls. One shifts his gaze to the snapping turtle as he finishes ushering Mikey into the tank. “You comin’ brother?”

One adjusts his sword and climbs into the tank.

[underhousearrestblog]

All I See Is Red | J.M.

(summary) you thought you were being rescued but instead you end up under the control of different captor

(warnings) blackmail, captivity, forced proximity, the possibility of sexual assault (eventually not happening and not between the main characters), death, threats, DUB-CON (initially non-consensual oral, initially non-consensual kissing) CONSENT UNDER PRESSURE IS NOT CONSENT!!!

(pairings) Joel Miller x reader

(reminder) Y/N – your name

(genre) angst, fluff (if you, like me, have abandonment issues), smut (if you squint), dark romance

(trope) enemies to lover-ish?

(word count) 7.7k

(also) I’m not god, I cannot make you stop reading if you’re a minor but I would kindly ask you to not interact with this post if you are underage

(also) flashbacks’ in Italics, the flashbacks from Joel’s point of view are in Bold Italics

(also) please be aware that this is a dark romance so don’t be surprised when triggers previously mentioned are found in the following fic (it’s YOUR responsibility to read the trigger warnings and decide whether you’re up for it, baby :))

(also) it’s 1 AM here in Latvia and I’m drunk so excuse any mistakes I might have missed while editing

HAPPY READING!

You squirmed under the intense gaze of one of your companions. The man was about your age and one of the leaders of the group that had captured yours. He looked shady at best and rapey at worst. You had no idea what you could possibly do to avoid his attention and your mind subconsciously jumped to the worst case scenario that could occur if his undivided attention and intention would not stray. Your hands trembled as your thoughts raced through your options.

Would it be worst or better if you complied? Would it be quicker or slower? More or less painful?

It was pretty clear what people paid with post-apocalypse, and it was not with money. Some paid with weapons, and yours was taken away by your captors. Some paid with food, which was also taken away and which you didn’t have lots of to begin with.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

You fought tears prickling your eyes and mentally berated yourself for not staying in the QZ.

Your hands were tied in front of you and with a thick rope, instead of handcuffs or metal substitution that was used for some of your group-mates. Apparently, you didn’t pose enough of a threat for them to use cuffs on you. And it felt weirdly insulting.

One of the older men of your captors stepped in front of your small group. He pointed his rifle to a man of your group, motioning for him to get up. When he didn’t comply or even move, you saw a muscle tick in your captor’s jaw, as he pressed the weapon against the older man’s forehead and pressed the trigger.

You gulped, as you watched a person slump against the ground in front of you. Blood pooled out of his head and people around him screamed out for mercy, silently begged for quick death or cried softly.

Next gunshot was so unexpected that you jumped a little, when a little boy to your right ended up shot between his eyes. You squeezed your eyes shut to avoid accidentally looking at the child.

And even with your eyes shut, you could feel the weapon being turned towards you.

“Quick death is better than anything else this world has to offer.”

- Not her, - you shuddered, as the slimy guy in the back spoke up. – She can be useful for a while.

You really wished the leader of the group would consider you an additional and unnecessary mouth to feed but then the person to your left crumbled against the ground and your fate was sealed.

When you opened your eyes, every person you had travelled with was dead. Death didn’t scare you nor did it surprise you – post-apocalypse had made everyone emotionally stunted and numb and you hadn’t known these people prior to your journey. But they had still treated you better than most of the people you had met.

The disgusting man in back looked you over, smiled, took a step towards you and... crumbled to the ground. Your eyes widened.

There was a bullet wound right between his eyes. His eyes were still very much so wide open.

The leader zeroed in on you. He quickly approached you and pulled you up by your arm.

- Was she bait? – someone behind his back asked.

You shook your head, suddenly realizing two very important things. One – you were out in the open with somebody who just took out some of the best armed soldiers without them even suspecting anything which meant whoever this was – they were very, very dangerous. Two – in this entire world you had no friends left which meant one thing and one thing for sure – whoever was killing your captors, was not doing it out of the goodness of their heart.

Maybe for their supplies?

Their weapons?

Or maybe-

A bullet went straight through the group leader’s head, making him go down right against you, taking you to the ground as well. The bullet wound from his head sprayed you with blood. You could feel blood on your face, taste it in your mouth, feel it drip down your hair...

- Shiiiiit, - Tommy watched through his binoculars. – Did you get her too?

Joel shook his head.

He never missed and he certainly didn’t shoot someone he didn’t intend to.

Once Joel finished off the rest of the soldiers, he swung the rifle over his shoulder and took the binoculars from his brother.

- Are we offering her to stay in Jackson or are we just leaving her here?

Blood coated you all over. The protective side of Joel wanted to hug you, wipe blood, tears and sweat from your face and promise that you have nothing and no one to be afraid of. He would make sure of it. The other side of him – the one he wasn’t aware of up until this moment – primal and possessive – demanded that he marched over to where you were laying on the ground, picked you up and fucked you right there in the blood of the scum that laid their hands on you. This side demanded that he claimed his prize. He had saved you life, so now it belonged to him.

He pushed both parts away and tried to imagine what if you had been someone he didn’t have such a primitive reaction to. What if you were any other woman in distress? What if you were a child survivor?

- I’m going to offer her a chance to come with us, - Joel decided. – Whatever she decides, goes.

Tommy nodded, seemingly deeming it a good idea.

- I think we should try to convince her to stay, though, - Joel added, meeting his brother’s eyes.

When Tommy offered nothing, for a moment Joel thought he had slipped up and told on himself, so he added:

- She’s a woman, maybe wounded, definitely alone, - he shrugged, as if he didn’t care either way. – It would be in her best interest to live in a town with, you know, walls and houses. Water. Food.

Tommy, seemingly okay with that, got up and started heading downhill towards you but Joel’s hand on his shoulder stopped him.

- Let me, - he offered.

His brother looked a bit weirded out. Whenever he and his brother were out on any rescue missions together, Joel put in extra effort to not have to deal with any survivors and always headed straight back home.

- Are you sure? – Tommy looked over his bloody dirty clothes and disheveled hair. – You can be kinda... blunt.

Joel just chuckled and decided on using the only card that usually got his brother off his back.

- I think your pregnant wife might appreciate that I’m letting you off sooner...

Tommy’s eyes softened, as they usually did whenever his wife and unborn child were mentioned. He nodded and picked up their shit before throwing his brother one last glance.

- At least try to be empathetic.

Your senses after the whole shoot-out were a bit all over the place. You couldn’t focus your eyes enough to notice how bloody your own hands were but you could very clearly taste the metallic blood on your tongue. You could smell the blood on your neck and in your hair but your hearing seemed to catch up only on your rapid heartbeat.

That was exactly why you hadn’t heard the heavy approaching footsteps. That was why, when a large hand landed on your shoulder, you – not knowing if it was that of a friend or an enemy – pulled your fist back and swung as hard as you could.

The man before you easy caught your wrist. His warm palm wrapped around it and he pulled you towards him. Still very much so in the state of panic, you allowed him to pull you into a hug and rested your head against his chest. Your breaths were erratic, as you clung to the only person who didn’t immediately tried to kill you off.

One hand slowly stroked through your messy hair, as the other drew circles on your back, trying to calm you down.

He smelled nice, you decided, after recognizing the smell of soap.

Nobody smelled like soap anymore. Not in this hellhole.

That made you double-take in the man before you. Once your breathing had somewhat stabilized, you pulled back. The man let you, while still keeping an arm on your bicep to most likely not let you fall in case you fainted.

- Who the fuck are you? – sounded a bit rude but you were too emotionally drained to care.

- I’m... – he looked at the bodies at your feet. – I’m from a nearby town. My name’s Joel.

You looked down too. He didn’t seem dressed similarly to the dead men and sure as hell didn’t look like he crawled out of a sewer.

- Are you with these guys? – you gestured towards the dead people.

He shook his head, and you exhaled in relief.

Now, were you sure he wasn’t just lying? He didn’t seem to be but wouldn’t be the first time you hadn’t caught up to a lie. But he wasn’t trying to hit you or shoot you, or rape you and that would have to do. For now.

- I’m the one who killed them, - that got your attention.

When you didn’t move a muscle – or breathe, for that matter, - he took a step towards you but this time you immediately took one back. His head slightly tilted to the side, as he let go of your arm. You didn’t dare to run or try to reach any of the weapons that belonged to your captors. You were acting as if you had come across a wounded but still stronger-than-you animal.

- That’s one hell of a skill for a citizen of a nearby town to have, - you threw out, trying to steady your voice so it doesn’t tremble.

- Then it’s a good thing, I guess, that I was trying to save you and not kill you, sweetheart, - he said in a low voice, meant to put you at ease.

For a moment, nobody spoke. Nobody moved.

He was first to break eye contact and brushed his hand over his face, as if dealing with this bloody scared girl was irritating him.

- Jackson – the town I’m from – is few miles from here. You can wash off the blood, get some clean clothes, eat and, you know, not freeze to death, - he gestured towards the hills and leaned down to pick up the rifle of the dead leader of the scavangers. - Let’s go.

He turned to leave, assuming you would just follow a stranger as some sort of a child.

When you didn’t move from your spot, your arms still numbly hanging by your sides, he threw a look over his shoulder and stopped. He just looked at you for a second and then strode towards you once again.

This time when you took a step back, he didn’t care and took an additional step to end up right in front of you.

This close together, you had to tilt your head back to look him in the face. When he didn’t say a word, you realized he was probably waiting for an explanation.

You cleared your throat, trying to not sound tired and empty.

- I don’t know you, - was all you said.

When all the reaction you got was a tilted eyebrow, you rolled your eyes and tried to step back again to put some distance between you two. His hand shot out and he pulled you back by your bicep to where you stood. This time the touch seemed more than just making sure you could stand. It seemed almost possessive.

- You are a stranger and I’m not going anywhere with you, - you sounded like a kidnapped child who had to explain the most essential survival instinct.

He smirked, looked down at you.

- A stranger, huh? – his fingers on your arm didn’t let go. – Didn’t stop you from clinging to me just mere seconds ago...

Once he had said the words out loud, only then Joel realized how much he liked the idea of you seeing him as your savior. Your protector. Provider. How much he liked the thought of you clinging to him any time you were scared, knowing he was the one to stop anybody from harming you.

You looked into his darkened eyes – eyes that now seemed to vaguely remind you that, above all, he was still a man and stronger than you at that.

In another life, had you met him at a bar, you probably would’ve been tipsy and tried to hit on him. Then he would have to turn you down because he probably would say something along the lines of “I could be your father, sweetheart”. But essentially it would be because your type were older dominant men and he would probably be married to an age-appropriate woman. And, after embarrassing yourself, you would check him out one last time before parting ways and never seeing each other again.

He was literally a textbook version of your type. Every single feature you had ever found attractive in a man.

But, if anything, apocalypse had taught you to never live this life by the rules and instincts of your previous one.

- How do I know that you’re not just taking me somewhere to kill and dismember me?

“Why not – give him some ideas for your death,” you mentally berated yourself.

He smiled patronizingly, as if dealing with an annoying child.

- If I was able to take them all out from there, - he motioned towards some trees on a hill. – why take you anywhere? I could just kill and dismember you right here, - he laughed.

Even though you didn’t want to admit it, what he was saying was believable. There was no one else – alive – left here and nowhere to run and hide – not that you were in any condition to be successful at attempting that. He could just shoot you and be done with you.

Seeing some initial understanding flash in your eyes, Joel let go of your arm and turned to leave, again:

- Shall we?

And, again, you didn’t move.

When he turned towards you with a raised eyebrow, waiting for you to explain your next issue, you decided to take the diplomatic route.

You approached him and took his clean, large palm into both of your much smaller, much bloodier hands.

- Thank you, - you felt every emotion you had had for the last few days rush out all at once. – Thank you so much for not letting them kill me, Joel, - tears prickled your eyes. – They said they were gonna give us to some sort of a cannibal cult or something. And then there was this one guy, he was looking at me all the time so I thought that he was gonna...

Joel’s arms circled around you and pulled you against his chest. This was a real hug – not the one before where he was trying to make you breathe again. You stood up on your toes, arms wrapped around his neck, as you rested your chin on his shoulder. After you mustered the strength to calm down and speak clearly, you said:

- What I meant to say was – thank you for saving me but I’m not coming to your town, - you softly explained. – Thanks for the offer though.

For a moment, Joel didn’t move or breathe. His thoughts raced hundred miles per hour, trying to understand your words. His arms slowly loosened around you, and he stepped back to look at you.

You were smiling, just a small smile out of gratitude, but it made his heart both stop and somehow pick up speed.

These three days of following you and your captured group had made him feel such a surge of protectiveness, seeing you struggling to accept your situation. The thought of bringing you back to Jackson – which was something he never offered when it came to new people – and it made him feel as if you were controlling him from afar. You didn’t even know him and you were still slowly but steadily wrapping him around your little finger, making him come up with plans how to protect you.

- It’s not safe for you out there, sweetheart, - he tried to reason. – You’re alone and don’t seem to know how to use a weapon well. How are you going to survive?

He seemed to understand. He was doing the thing that people did where they knew someone was leaving but were still asking questions just to let someone know they cared. The soft look in his eyes made you let your guard down just a little. But it was enough for you to make a grave mistake.

- Well, living’s overrated anyway, isn’t it? – you tried to joke.

His eyes darkened, and your smile dropped. When he started to look downright angry, you reached to jokingly punch your fist against his shoulder.

- I was joking, - your laughed under your breath, - Jesus...

But all Joel could see before his eyes was red. You, laying somewhere, coated in blood. This time, your own. Would it be a wild animal? Another group of armed soldiers? Maybe you would just eventually starve?

Tommy and Maria would let you go the minute you would confess that Joel had brought you back against your will. They would not keep a prisoner and someone who did not wish to be there. And he would be forced to watch you leave. He would be forced back into square one.

Once you turned your back on him and searched the ground for anything you could take for yourself, Joel made up his mind.

You felt his hand wrap around the front of your neck, as he roughly yanked you back against his chest. Out of sheer surprise, both your hands shot up to peel his hand from your neck.

When the initial terror had subsided, you realized he wasn’t trying to strangle or choke you. His fingers expertly found a spot on your neck a bit below your left ear, and you felt him put pressure against it. You started to feel light-headed but it was too late for you to remember that certain spots in your neck could be used to make a person lose consciousness.

His other arm wrapped tightly around your middle, as your vision had started to cloud.

With black spots dancing before your eyes, all you could focus on was his warm breath against the back of your neck.

- This is for the better, sweetheart, - he promised and placed a light kiss on the small hairs on the back of the neck. – You’ll see.

That evening, when Joel returned to Jackson later than expected, Tommy greeted him at the gates.

- Where have you been? – his brother looked and sounded worried. – Where’s the girl?

- She refused to come here so I offered to walk her down all the way to the main road, - Joel purposefully avoided looking his brother in the eye, as he took off his rifle. – She’s heading back to the closest QZ.

For just few seconds, Tommy looked suspicious. He had spent three days, trailing around the scavangers and watching Joel get progressively more protective over you.

Had he killed you?

That was the only option Tommy considered and it didn’t seem possible. What would he gain from killing you?

Tommy shook his head and clasped his brother’s shoulder.

- Maybe for the best, - he offered. – Can’t save everyone.

Joel nodded and continued to dissect the few items he had taken from the dead scavangers.

Had Tommy been less tired and less excited to just see his brother alive and well, he would’ve noticed his brother’s gloves and warm jacket gone. The backpack that was usually given to people who went outside the town limits and was usually filled with food and some essentials, was gone too.

You opened your eyes, hearing the deadbolt being unlocked from outside. You didn’t rush towards the door as you had done the first few times Joel had returned. You had thought that having the element of surprise and trying to catch him off guard him would make at least a small difference. It didn’t. It hasn’t. Every time you had ended up on the floor with him restraining both your hands with one of his, while immobilizing your legs with his thighs.

“You’re getting better at this,” he praised you, and that left you even more furious. “Another few times of you ending up under me and we might just end up with me under you.”

After the initial shock had passed and you had gained back some strength – thanks to the food Joel brought and keeps bringing over which you still refuse to thank him for – and after you had realized that crying and pleading with him to let you go won’t work, you adapted a new tactic. Trying to scratch his eyes out every chance you got.

You have been living in this little cottage for about a week now. It was cozy and in any other circumstance could be considered something you had once wished to live in. It had an open-floor and with stairs that led to somewhat of a second floor with one room that only had a railing around it and no walls so it could be seen from the first floor.

This is where you had woken up. The way Joel had explained it – since you refused to come back to Jackson as a “civilized” person, you got to live here. With him.

Living was a bit too flashy of a word for it. You couldn’t leave. Every night when Joel begrudgingly went back to Jackson (as he put it, his brother would get suspicious if he stopped going home all together), you were locked inside this cozy little prison. Prison that you realized after many unfruitful leaving attempts was more secure than any QZ you had been a part of.

An old kitchen knife that you had tugged inside your sleeve bit into your skin. In order for this to work, you would have to get physically close enough to Joel. The problem was – that kind of behavior would probably be suspicious to him, as usually you tried to keep as much distance between the two of you as possible.

When he opened the door with his shoulder, you realized that you had missed a really good escape opportunity. Both his hands were full of what looked like boxes of food and clothes. When he kicked the door closed, you greedily watched the deadbolt with the lock unused, as your captor went over to the small kitchen portion of the house to put down the food. Subconsciously, you felt your tongue swipe over your lower lip, eyes darting between Joel and the door.

- I have to say, I’m disappointed, - he chuckled. – All this way from Jackson, I was really looking forward having you trashing and squirming underneath me.

You didn’t move from where you sat in an armchair in the middle of the room. When your eyes once again darted to the door, Joel caught it. He leaned against the stove and crossed his arms over his chest. With a slight turn of his head, he gestured towards the unlocked door.

- Wanna try? – he patronized you, smiling. – I mean, the last time you got out, I caught you before you had a chance to step outside the gates. Granted, you were malnourished and weak, and couldn’t pick up any speed...

Your eyes didn’t leave the door. How come freedom was this close and this far at the same time?

Joel lazily walked towards you but took the longer route by circling around the side of the kitchen island, giving you, like, two second head-start.

When he finally reached you, you looked up to find him staring down at you. His fingers incredibly gently pushed a stray lock of hair behind your ear, before he bent down so you were both more or less at an eye level.

- Here’s an idea, - he suggested, - I’ll let you have a fifteen second head-start, an unlocked door and I’ll even throw in permission to use that blunt kitchen knife you got on you.

You tried not to flinch by how little of privacy you had from him.

- In return, if you make it outside the gates, I’ll-

- Let me go? – you asked.

He laughed and shook his head. You deflated. And you hated that just for a moment there had been a small hope in your heart that he might have gotten bored of taking care of you here. That he had gotten sick of you.

- No, - he chuckled as if you had tried to make jokes. – Make it outside the gates and I’ll reward you.

You must’ve looked like you genuinely considered this deal because Joel looked a bit surprised but mostly amused.

He circled the armchair, pushed his boot between your much smaller ones and roughly kicked your left boot to the side, so he could comfortably stand between your legs. Once he placed both his hands on the armrests on either side of you, he leaned down. Your lips were just few inches apart and it had gotten really hard to keep eye contact. Or breathe, for that matter.

- And what’s the reward? – did that hoarse voice really belonged to you?

You eyes kept darting from his eyes to his lips.

- I was thinking head.

It took a second for your lust-clouded brain to catch up. Once it did, your accusing eyes shot up to meet his amused ones.

- What?

- I’ve seen you looking at my arms. My hands. Me. I know you find me attractive, - he said. – And I think we both know that it’s very much reciprocated.

You were so mad you could almost feel fumes coming from your ears. You roughly placed both your hands on his chest and pushed him back which made him stumble back just a little. You must’ve looked quite shocked because he softly laughed and backed up.

- Have you lost your mind? – you raised your voice. – What makes you think that I would ever agree to any sexual favor? You’re keeping me here against my will - I could never find you attractive!

Joel turned his back on you and went to lock the door. When that was done, he turned back towards you and smiled:

- I would make sure it’s very, very good for you, - his gaze slowly slid over you from head to toe. – You won’t be complaining nearly as much when you’re fucked out of your mind and cannot string a sentence together.

Even though you weren’t naive or inexperienced by any means, his crude words left your mouth wide open.

Did he think you were the type of person to have sex with your kidnapper?

For the first time ever, you had no words. You closed your mouth and opened it again. Then closed again. You wanted to take the old lamp on the nightstand and smash it against his head.

- The fuck do you... – you started. – What the...? Are you out of your mind?

Joel shrugged as if he didn’t care either way and turned towards the kitchen to start on dinner.

Your hand grabbed the lamp, and you threw in his direction without trying to hit anything or anyone in particular.

The lamp smashed against the kitchen wall and broke apart all over the stove and the floor.

You marched over to where Joel looked down at the broken lamp. Your hand reached out, you grabbed his shoulder and harshly turned him to face you.

- You will never ever touch me, - you spoke through your teeth. – And I will never ever agree to any deals with you. You’re disgusting to me.

Before you had a chance to step back, Joel’s hand shot out and grabbed your chin. He tilted your head back, pulled you against him and pressed his lips against yours.

In any other situation this type of kiss would be considered chaste. Virginal. A peck, really. No tongue. But this was Joel and, no matter how much you hated him for locking you up, he hadn’t hit you, he fed you and clothed you and in your fucked-up mind, that had experienced so much cruelty in this new world, he was very much still attractive both physically and emotionally.

Still, you gathered all of your strength and, placing your palms against his chest, tried to push him back. He didn’t budge an inch. Even more so, he pressed his hand on top of yours, as to make sure they stayed firmly pressed against his chest.

You turned your face to the side, roughly ending the kiss. He pressed his forehead against your temple and exhaled heavily.

- You have no idea what you do to me, sweetheart, - he murmured. – The things I wanna do to you...

The kiss left your light-headed. And you hated yourself for it.

This was your captor. All you should feel for him should be pure hatred. Anger. Disappointment in the man who once had saved you just to lock you up in this place as if you were his pet. Who had taken control over every single decision in your life. He chose what you ate. What you wore. What you read. It was deeply disturbing. But not nearly as disturbing as the fact that, despite all of this, you still had sexual dreams involving him almost every night. Where he bent you over the spotless kitchen counter and demanded that you paid for all the trouble you’ve been costed him. Insisting that you repaid him for all the food, clothes and shelter he’s provided for you. Every night you went to bed angry and woke up dripping wet. And twice as angry.

- What would it take for you to let me go? – you asked, trying your best to pull off an innocent, naive look.

He looked down at you. His eyes were almost apologetic.

- You already know the terms, baby, - his raspy voice sounded pained. – Come back to Jackson with me. Play house with me. Let me take care of you. Let me provide for you.

When your unsure eyes met his, he wrapped his hand around the back of your neck and pulled you against his chest.

- We can have a good life together, you and I, - he promised. – Just allow me to be your man, and you’ll have everything you could ever dream of. Safety. A house of your own. Children, if you want them. A dog, if you don’t.

Did it sound promising? Sure. Still, you shook your head. Everything you knew was back at your old QZ. And, even though Joel had done more for you than anyone else in a really long time, you still didn’t trust him. His intensity scared you. His need for you terrified you.

Joel’s eyes darkened. His hands untangled themselves from your hair, and he stepped back. Then he just turned around as if nothing had happened and started to prepare dinner.

You felt so, so helpless.

Would it be easier for you to escape from Jackson than it was escaping from here? There was a possibility of you finding a person who would feel for you and eventually would let you leave the town. Maybe, if you could get to Joel’s brother and his wife and convince them to convince Joel-

- If I come with you to Jackson, will you leave me be? – you tried to reason with him. – Can I just come back with you and we part our ways? Can we just act as if nothing happened?

With his back still turned to you, Joel pulled out a carton of eggs, placed them carefully on the counter and then turned to face you, carefully folding up the paper bag.

He looked you over with a heated glance, as if trying to decide whether some quick oral is worth letting you go.

- No.

You wanted to smash something against his head.

- No? How the fuck would you even explain me coming back to Jackson to your brother? You told me that you-

- If you’re coming to Jackson, nothing changes, - he put the paper bag on the kitchen island and approached you. – You come back but you’re still provided for by me. Sleeping next to me. Living with me. You’re still mine. I’m just offering you a bigger house and an additional human interaction.

You were fuming.

- And if you’re really thinkin’ that my brother might make me change my mind and let you go, you clearly haven’t learned anything in this past week, - Joel reached you and looked down at you almost comfortingly, as if trying to deal with a very, very difficult toddler. – He has his own troubles and he won’t risk his new family over some girl he hasn’t even met yet.

When you didn’t speak, Joel added:

- Take it or leave it, - he shrugged. – To be fair, I prefer not to share you with anyone. To keep you locked up. All to myself.

When he turned to return to his dinner, you weighed out your options and quickly made a decision.

- Fine.

He looked genuinely surprised.

That was a first.

- What? – Joel couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

- I’ll go to Jackson with you if that’s what you want, - you straightened, trying to at least keep an illusion of you having the upper hand. – On one condition.

Joel’s lips pulled upward. He looked quite handsome when he smiled. And for the first time in a long time, he felt genuine happiness. Still, he looked amused when you demanded a condition of your own.

- Let’s hear it, baby, - he urged you, motioning with his index and middle fingers for you to approach him.

When you did, he put his hands behind his back, watching your angry face.

You lowered you voice almost to a whisper.

- If I succeed in escaping from Jackson, - you started, - because I will attempt to do so, I can promise you that, - your angry eyes were met with his terrifyingly dark ones, - if I succeed, you don’t look for me. You don’t come after me. You don’t chase me. You let me go.

Joel put on a show of considering it. When he nodded, seemingly accepting your terms and conditions, you exhaled with relief.

But then he leaned down and added:

- Good luck with it, though, - he chuckled against your temple. – I will be watching every step you take outside our home. You will be by my side every second of every day. And, if for whatever reason, I have to leave Jackson, you will be tied to my bed, a vibrator pushed all the way up in your cunt to the highest setting to the point where you won’t be able to stand up, - he placed a light kiss on your forehead in an almost loving manner, - let alone run.

You trembled with either terror or need and hated that you couldn’t decide which one was it.

- You won’t hate me when I come back to you at night, - he promised. – You will greet me like your god because only I will be able to stop your misery. Running away will be the last thought in your pretty little head when I’m done with you.

He took a step back.

- I’ve been good to you, letting you adapt, - his eyes shamelessly roamed all over your body. – But don’t ever assume I wouldn’t use your own body against you. I’ve let you preserve your dignity but, if you try to run, I will overstimulate you to the point where you will beg me to fuck you. Where you plead for me to take you and make you mine. To ravish you.

He had never spoken to you like this. He had always tried to mask his lust for you and had allowed for you to do the same.

- I don’t want you to hate yourself for wanting your keeper. Don’t you think it would be easier on you if you wanted your husband, your lover? Allow me to make you my wife and you can sleep easier at night for wanting this, - he motioned between the both of you. – For wanting me.

- I already said I’d come with you to Jackson. That’s all I can promise you right now.

He nodded in an almost understanding manner. As if deciding on giving you some time to come to your senses.

- Fine, it’s a deal, - he decided and then something dangerous flashed in his eyes. – Now strip.

In a world that had shocked you every step of the way, you were still taken aback.

- W-what?

- You heard me. I’m taking that oral we argued about a bit earlier, - you noticed Joel’s hands slightly trembling, as if he was approaching a priceless artefact and, for the first time, he had been given a permission to physically touch it.

Except, he hadn’t.

- What? No, - you backed away. – The whole purpose of this was for me to come back to Jackson! – you argued. – You didn’t ask anything for it!

He shrugged, still zeroing in on you with predator-like steps.

- That was before. I’ve changed my mind. Now I want something for my troubles.

For the first time, you thought of a possibility of needing to physically fight off Joel. And you knew you wouldn’t be able to do that. Your hand reached for a book that laid on the table, you pulled back and swung it across his face.

His face just slightly turned to the side and, when his eyes found yours again, the pupils were dilated to the point his eyes looked black.

Shit.

You made it worse.

- That’s it, baby, - he encouraged. – Try to fight me off. You have no idea how hard I get every time you’re violent.

- I’m not sucking your dick, bastard, - you threw the book away, deeming it to be pretty much useless. – I’ll bite it off if you make me do it!

For a split second, Joel looked clueless. Then he chuckled.

- I think there’s been a little bit of miscommunication, darling, - his hands found your hips and pushed you, making you sit down on the bed. – I don’t want you to suck my cock, baby. I don’t enjoy taking something that’s not freely given. I enjoy giving.

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. He kneeled down in front of you, hands travelling up your hips. His long fingers started to untangle the messy knot you had tied in front of your sweatpants.

- I want to eat your pussy, baby, - a hand on your chest roughly pushed and held you down against the bed. – That’s what I demand for providing for you. That’s how you repay me for saving your life.

In what upside-down world were you in right now?

Since when did men consider giving being a prize to them?

Once he had gotten rid of your sweatpants, he hooked his fingers on the sides of your panties and pulled them down. When you tried to sit up and press your legs together, he shook his head, disappointed.

- Can’t have that, baby, - he tsked, placing a sloppy kiss against the inside of your thighs. – I want to fully enjoy myself and you’re getting in my way.

Next thing you felt was the coldness of the metal placed around your wrists.

He had handcuffed you!

Not paying any attention to your trashing, he cuffed your hands together and then cuffed both of them around the headboard of your bed. When you pulled against the cuffs, all he said was:

- Don’t hurt yourself, baby.

- YOU BASTARD! – you screamed. – YOU PROMISED! YOU SAID YOU WOULDN’T DO THIS WITHOUT MY PERMISSION! YOU DON’T HAVE IT!

He reached somewhere next to him and picked up a piece of your clothing.

- I’M GONNA MAKE YOUR LIFE SO MISERABLE YOU’LL WISH YOU NEVER SAVED MY LI-

Those were the last words you uttered before he stuffed your panties in your mouth, effectively shutting you up.

You tried to kick him in his face but he easily caught your calf, placed a quick kiss on your knee and spread your legs.

As you had thought before, your strength and anger were nothing compared to his. His warm calloused palms wrapped around your upper thighs, keeping you in place as his mouth delved in between your legs with no hesitation.

The first initial swipe of his tongue was torturous. Your conflicting mind and body refused to acknowledge the immense pleasure both of them received. He purposefully tortured you with thoroughly enjoying you and making every lick as slow as he possibly could. His beard pressed against your inner thighs and you knew tomorrow there would be red marks left from it on the inside of your thighs.

You tried to withdraw by pulling your hips back towards the front of the bed but his fingers dug into your hips and pulled you firmly back against his mouth. And when you tried to close your legs, his hands wrapped around your thighs, holding them apart. Joel’s tongue dipped inside your hole, and you squeezed your eyes shut when the tip of his tongue touched something inside you, making black dots dance before your eyes.

Fuck you for making me feel this pleasure, you tried to talk with your panties still in your mouth, fuck you for making me feel wanted.

Joel’s nose accidentally brushed over your clit and you whimpered, making him laugh against your core.

- This is how you’re going to sound and look every night from now on, - he lifted his head to meet your eyes, his lips glistening in your arousal. – This is how you’re going to receive your man home, sweetheart. This is how you’re going to reward me for all the troubles I go through to provide for you. With your legs spread and your mouth shut like the obedient little girl I know you can be.

His lips wrapped around your clit and sucked. Against every bone and wish in your body, you pressed against his mouth, trying to find some relief.

So, so close...

When you were balancing right on the edge of the abyss, Joel pulled back. A whine left your mouth against your better judgement, and tears pricked your eyes.

This week had left you in so much stress. You wanted this. You needed this. You had to have this.

His hand shot up and pulled the soaked material from your mouth.

- Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop... - you blabbed incoherently.

- Hey, baby, - his hand unwrapped from your thigh and grasped your chin to tilt your head towards him. – Beg me to make you come. Beg me to make you feel good, baby.

You tried to close your thighs to get some friction between them but Joel’s hands held them apart, making you suffer. The pressure was still there and it bordered with physical pain. You had to get some relief.

- Fine, - you nodded. – Fine! Please, please, make me come, Joel!

He leaned down towards your pussy and... softly blew air against your core.

When she twitched, Joel just looked up in amusement.

- I think she likes me, - he chuckled. – I think she knows who she belongs to.

- Just finish what you started, - you pleaded. – Please.

He tilted his head to the side, considering it.

- Tell me you want me, - he took a long swipe from your ass to your clit. – Tell me you’ll be a good little girl and let me take care of you.

- Fine, you can take care of me, - you panted. – Feed me and clothe me, and-

He sucked on your clit and you lost focus. And your ability to talk. Black dots danced before your eyes and your back bowed from the bed. He calmly ate you out through it, only removing his mouth once you had slumped back against the sheets.

- Good girl, - he whispered against your core and placed a kiss on your pussy lips. – Such a good, good girl for me.

You still tried to steady your breathing when he gently let go of your thighs and stood up. Towering over you, he reached to remove the handcuffs.

When your frightened eyes met his, Joel paused and leaned down to kiss you on the lips.

You could taste yourself on his them.

He placed his hand on your cheek in a lover-like manner, closed his eyes and rested his forehead against yours.

- You’ll learn to love me, - he promised both you and himself. – You’ll learn to love me eventually, sweetheart.

[roseworth]

Rose Wilson (pre-flashpoint) Reading Guide :^)

hiiiiii i need everyone to love her and talk about her all the time

this isnt everything, this i just what i think you need to get a pretty good idea of who she is <3 if you want more this list has most of her pre52 appearances (EDIT: and i have a post-flashpoint reading list now too!!!!)

all the important issues for her story are in bold and my personal favorites are italicized. in all honestly you can skip a lot of the bolded ones but i WILL take it personally if you skip my favorites

Deathstroke v1 #15 (her introduction!!)

Deathstroke v1 #45-46, #48, annual #4, #51

New Titans #126

Titans v1 #27, #33, #37

Teen Titans v3 #0.5

Teen Titans v3 #8, #12

Batgirl v1 #64

Nightwing v2 #112-115

Nightwing v2 #117

Teen Titans v3 #34-35, #40-41, #43-46, #57, #60, #71, #88, #90-91, #98-100

Batgirl v2 #2-4

Titans v2 #13, Teen Titans v3 #70, Vigilante v3 #6

Teen Titans v3 #77-78

Faces of Evil: Deathstroke

Teen Titans v3 #72-76 & #79-82 (second feature)

now unfortunately i love to explain myself so i gave my reasonings for everything i put under the cut:

welcome to the annotated version <3

Deathstroke #15 - this tells the story of slade meeting lillian worth, rose's mom, and then shows rose for the first time <3 honestly this one doesnt do much for rose other than saying that she exists but it still matters

Deathstroke #45-46 - before this, rose is kidnapped and escapes but i didnt include that in the list because shes not doing much until these issues. but she has things to do in these and has great moments of lili trying to protect her. dont bother reading any of the actual deathstroke stuff because i do not care what hes up to

Deathstroke #48 - rose meets slade for the first time!!! it does not go well

Deathstroke annual #4 - shes not in this til the last few pages but i get the content of rose mourning her mother where i can bc it does not get brought up for like 20 years after this. also rose being a badass is always welcome to me

Deathstroke #51 - this one is almost entirely rose's pov!!! granted shes not exactly the center of the story but still! it also starts showing her meta abilities and precognition which is so slay of her

New Titans #126 - this is the first time she gets like. an actual personality. and its great. i lov her dynamics with the other titans and i love kyle and donna kind of trying to parent her. and also shows a little bit more of how she feels about her mom hehe. in the issue before this she puts a gun to someones head which i think is also worth reading that moment of her however. its a one page scene and it never gets brought up again so i didnt bother including it

Titans #27, #33, #37 - honestly i think that roses entire time nannying lian is worth reading but she doesnt do a Lot in each issue so i felt bad including the whole thing sdjafhadsf but she has scattered appearances from #25-39 and theyre all FANTASTIC. one of my favorite eras of rose for sure

Teen Titans #0.5  - this is her joining her father :( terrible hate kill but its a very important part of her story. also she has a random family here which ??? i mean sure i guess. love that everyone was playing hot potato with rose for like 10 years though

Teen Titans #8 - calls herself ravager for the first time so its kind of important. honestly though i wasnt even gonna include this at first but decided that it was important enough to throw in. shes only on the last page of this though

Teen Titans #12 - this is where she loses her eye (see: takes her own knife and stabs it out) so its pretty significant. also bart reaching out to her and trying to help her is sweet :) i dont really care about brother blood at all though so i didnt include the rest of this arc but it starts at #9 if youre really interested

Batgirl v1 #64 - this one is extremely biased im gonna be real. i just love batgirl 2000 and this issue was really good for both of them honestly, its the two of them fighting and does a good job showing rose's relationship with her dad during this time and showing her skills 

Nightwing #112-115 - this one was just so much fun. i wouldnt call it 100% in character but theres a lot of good stuff about rose wanting a family and its rly sweet :( its also hilarious to me and its so fun to read it

Nightwing #117  - leaving her father!!! she really only shows up on a couple pages here but you know. its pretty significant. 

GENERAL WARNING FOR TEEN TITANS: a lot of teen titans was written by geoff johns and. i dont know how to put it other than that hes VERY geoff johns about it. there are bits of misogyny and racism in pretty much every issue. even after johns stops writing it still has some extremely iffy parts. so just be warned :(

EDIT: since making this list i have made yet another list of her tt03 appearances and whether or not they should be read so u can check that out if you’re interested <3

Teen Titans #34 - her intro to the team!! talks a little about how she got there and what shes doing etc. also wlw hostility with cassie

Teen Titans #35 - this one originally wasnt even on the list because it comes with HEAVY disclaimers. this issue includes rose trying to rape tim, which i consider to be the worst moment in that entire book, and probably the most out of character thing rose has ever done. thank you geoff johns. HOWEVER this issue also has a lot of really nice moments with rose and eddie that i really enjoyed :( so just. disregard the first few pages if you read this

Teen Titans #40-41 - you will quickly find out that i am a sucker for rose and joey being siblings. in all honesty i know very little about joey but i DO know that he and rose have rly sweet moments in a lot of these

Teen Titans #43-46 - a lot of deathstroke stuff. mostly boring but rose does get to fight her dad here :) and also some more rose & joey moments. though do be warned as a cassandra cain fan these issues did send me flying into a blind rage because she is so out of character

Teen Titans #57 & #60 - precognition!!! rose being a badass!!! my love!!!!!! this is a good issue. it does go back on a lot of what its already gone over by saying "ooo rose is so murderous and dangerous!!" but. whatever. i like it when shes murderous. these are all part of an arc that goes from #56-60 if you want the full story but these two are the ones that rose has the most to do in. then #60 leads into Terror Titans which. um. was not good. very out of character for rose and just not an interesting story at all. but i mean if you want to read it she is in it

Teen Titans #71  - rose-centric issues my beloved hehe :) this issue is pretty good and sets off her story in the second feature starting in #72

Teen Titans #88 - rose rejoining the team!!!!! which i have mixed feelings on because it was clearly a "the writer wanted her there but didnt want to do the work to put her back so they just threw her in" situation which is fine i guess. it ignores a lot of whats already happened though :/ but!!!! lillian worth mention!!! woo!!!!

Teen Titans #90-91 - damian and rose's dynamic is so fucking funny and i love it. they are iconic together its amazing

Teen Titans #98-100 - final teen titans arc!! rose isnt specifically doing a lot but she does have some really good moments here. also she has an interaction with mia for like 2 panels so i need to cut those 2 panels out and frame them <3 but be warned. the writer was clearly going in the rose/conner direction for some reason which. um. hm.

Batgirl v2 #2-4 - ICONIC. i have issues with cass's characterization in this but rose is wonderful. she can be patricidal as a treat <3 shes planning ahead and shes a good fighter and shes murderous. what more do you need.

Teen Titans #70, Titans #13, Vigilante #6 - these are all part of a bigger crossover, Titans #12 and Vigilante #5 come before these but rose doesnt have anything to do there and i did not read them because i dont really care about the story of this one. but oh my god. this has some FANTASTIC rose & joey content. all of their interactions in this killed me esp the last part :(

Teen Titans #77-78 - oughghggogugughggh this one was so sad fr. i love it when rose tries to kill her dad but there were so many parts in this where i was full of pain. but also joey and rose moment hiiii !! but most importantly lili is revealed to be alive here!!! yippee!!!!

Faces of Evil: Deathstroke #1 - hiiiii im actually adding this one to the list nearly a year after i originally made it lol <3 but i love this issue so much and i cant believe i never added it. most of the reason i like it is because i like it when she commits patricide and like half of this comic is dedicated to her kicking his ass then getting her ass kicked. god i love her

Teen Titans #72-76 & #79-82 - FRESH HELL MY BELOVED <3 greatest rose story of all time <333 the writer is clearly weird about rose but who am i to judge. lots of good moments of her struggling with morality and finding out who she is and its a pretty good story and im pretty sure there was one part that made me cry

and there we go !! i know most ppl dont add their opinion to their reading lists however i mostly made this for my followers and i am the god of this list and i do what i want