#help us we've gone too far

[boycritter]

"you shouldnt use ai for schoolwork because its not actually helpful" this is true "and anyways if you cant even write a 600 word essay then you're stupid and an idiot" well now i think we've gone too far in the wrong direction.

[muntitled]

Housewife Blues

Pairings: Terry Richmond x Housewife!Reader

Summary: Operation making a baby

Warnings: Language, Traditional Gender Roles, Controlling!Terry, Daddy Issues, Smut (+18) mdni, Degradation Kink, DDLG, Daddy Kink, Controlled Orgasm, Unprotected Sex

A/n: Reader literally calls him Daddy. Please don't read this if that's not your vibe.

When your days weren't spent caring for your home as an active military wife, you engaged in reading, crocheting, baking and positively, actively avoiding the southern housewives that haunted your sunny cul-de-sac. Terry knew you'd much rather be doing things alone when he was at work.

This woman was intruding on your alone time.

"We've got to stick together!" the woman had said, her voice dripped like her honeycomb hair haloing her head. You wouldn't have willingly opened the front door had you known she would be lurking on the other side. The amicable smile that was on your face was cracking.

You initially thought it might be your husband, come to surprise you, knocking off from work earlier than usual. All throughout the day, you had been eager to see him.

He had left you in quite the state this morning.

"Faster," he had commanded in that mahogany veneered voice as he watched you try and fail to give yourself even a sliver of the kind of pleasure you were used to. He liked watching you struggle to take your fingers that were far too small, nothing like his large, skillful hands that would drill into your cunt when you needed it to.

"Why are you slowing down?" He enquired calmly, his head leaning against the headboard as he watched you try to please yourself in order please him to the best of your abilities.

You were seated between his legs with your legs spread open. The only contact established between you two was your ass pressed against that bulge straining his boxers. If Terry was a lesser man, he'd forget that he was trying to teach you a lesson about coming without permission. If he wasn't so deeply wired with self control he mightve said fuck the lesson and pulled his cock out to slide inside your weeping cunt.

But he wasn't a lesser man.

And no matter how hard he got, he loved watching you struggle to make yourself cum.

"M'sorry okay?" Gone was the trace of bratiness in your tone. All that was left was a little girl's pathetic whine and even that made him harder.

"M'sorry, I wont cum without your permission again-" you craned your head back. Your cloudy hair moved across his chest as you met his eyes, "Please help me," you hoped eyes displayed your desperation. Even if that weren't enough you knew your next words would be. "Please, Daddy-" he made a sharp intake of breath and you knew you had him.

"I need y-"

"I need to go to work-"

Your eyes nearly popped out of your skull as the man behind you moved to rid himself of you.

"What!? You're just going to leave like that?!"

"Who're you talking to?" He had asked so calmly, with his head tilted, corralling you into absolute silence.

"I-"

"Give it' till this afternoon," he wasn't a complete monster. He kissed you on your forehead, making you feel whole even for a split second before ridding himself of you once again.

"Can you be good for me until this afternoon?" You loved when he did that. You loved when he spoke down at you, as if you weren't sporting numerous degrees. As if you weren't a fully autonomous woman.

You liked the break he gave you from thinking.

"I can." You had said. Completely determined not to touch yourself until he arrived home.

All day, your brain had been fuzzy with thoughts of him. 'The dangers of being a housewife', your best friend had called it. He was consuming your every thought. Your mind was plagued by images of him inside you. Your mouth. Your cunt. Your mind.

You had no time for this. Not time for her.

"We?" You reiterate with your head slightly tilted as you lean against the door you were itching to slam shut in her face. "We should stick together?" You asked it as if hoping to make sense of how in what world a woman like her and a woman like you might ever be classified as 'we'. In front of you stood the seemingly perfect example of a nuclear housewife. Poodle puff golden hair, bright eerie smile and a body that could reproduce, seemingly at will.

"Yes!" The blonde woman said, "Us wives of veterans, we need to stick together-"

"Oh-" you were in the process of shaking your head, "I- don't really see myself as a product of Terry's-"

"I think we should have a little meet up tonight! We'll wrangle up the husbands and the kids-"

"I've got no kids," You said so curtly it could've given anyone a harsh chill.

"You and Terry have no children?" Judging by the look on her face you could swear you've just admitted to some form of bio terrorism.

"No kids?" She nodded gravely. Far too gravely. "H-How interesting, well. That's okay! I'll just call our babysitter- She's a lovely girl. Hopefully you find someone like her when you and Terry finally get to it-"

"When her and Terry get to what?" You hadn't even heard that roar of the truck easing up the driveway, your mind had been far too plagued with images of your childless marriage to really pay it any mind. But you're very much of him now as he appears behind that stupid little housewife.

Like Pavlov's dog, your body and all its machinations react to the sound of Terry's voice alone.

The gravel that seemed to roll in his esophagus. The way he dwarves the woman taking up your precious time. He had finally come home, but here you were, being occupied by your neighbors, dressed in nothing except a tight fitting night dress.

"Oh Terry!" The woman said, hoping to steal his attention, despite his eyes remaining fastened on you, "How lovely to finally meet! I was just telling your lovely wife we should all have a family meet up- she informed me that you two don't want kids?"

"Have-" You said so quickly, "I said we don't have kids. Not that we don't want any."

Without sparing the woman another glance, Terry strolls past her. His large bicep squeezes you into the frame of the door as he walks up behind you but you don't mind. In fact you suddenly feel calmer in his shadow. Your nerves are both calm and set alight as he moves his heavy arms around your waist.

"You explained yourself?" He bends down, his lips pressed against your ear, "You didn't need to do that." Your mouth stammered open as the woman by your doorstep pales.

"Well- I was just enquiring-" the woman attempts to salvage the situation but Terry’s already pulling you into the house.

"We'll come back to you about the dinner-”

“We could set a date right now and-”

“Excuse me,” Terry says, “We gotta go make that baby we apparently don't want-” you catch a final glimpse of that woman. Her mouth stammered open.

Terry's leading you towards the couch and you follow him, your fingers wrapped around his pinky. You swallow heavily watching his back muscles contract.

He's so big.

So in control.

It has your mind swimming in the pools of subspace as he lowers his frame to the couch. He pulls you into his lap and you yelp as the skirts of your dress fan around his lap.

For a moment all is quiet.

You evade eye contact and he tries to hide his smile as he forces you to interlock your hands behind his neck while his titan hands meet around your waist. You were quite literally trapped.

“That woman probably isn't going to talk to me again after that little display of yours,” you mumble lowly and he chuckles softly as he brings his nose to the crook of your neck and he breathes in.

“Try not to sound so pleased about that.”

“I have to make friends, Terry-” your breath stammers when you feel his pillow lips open up until he's pressing his tongue to the sensitive skin by your neck.

“Did you touch yourself?” He asks and despite his words holding that usual sliver of control, you can feel the slight eagerness to his actions. His steadily hardening cock straining through the front of his jeans and his restless hands moving underneath the skirt of your dress.

“No, you told me not to.”

“I've told you not to do many things,” he presses another kiss to your temple and you breathe in rather sharply when his fingers reach your inner thigh. “Sometimes you don't give a shit about what I say.”

“I promise I didn't touch myself,” it was becoming difficult to breathe. Your mind descended into lechery as his fingers inched up your thigh and you opened your legs slightly. “Honest.”

“Should I check the cameras?” Your body tensed ever so slightly and for someone as observant as Terry was trained to be, you knew he spotted it.

“We have cameras?”

“You think I'd just leave you in this hick ass town alone throughout the day and not have cameras in the house?”

“Oh- well-”

“Doesn't matter if you touched yourself, does it?” Your breathing swells as his fingers finally connect with the seat of your panties. He adjusts himself underneath you. You're absolutely soaked.

“No one can make you cum like I do,” He whispers, sliding your panties to the side, “Not even you.”

Your eyes grow hazy as his fingers begin to play with your aching cunt. It's everything you've needed and more.

“Say it-” You're teetering on the edge of a complete mental check-out as his fingers rub your clit. You squirm on top of him, searching for the seating position that would let you grind down on his hand but he keeps you still.

“Fuck-” he groans and for a split moment, you're nearly close.

Until he pulls his fingers away and you're once again whining and squirming with no sense of relief.

“You can't just-”

In a series of fluid and swift movements, Terry moves you off of his lap. Your back hits the couch as he hovers over you.

“what're you doing-”

“You thought I was kidding about making that baby?” He asks, so incredibly serious as he undoes his belt buckle and all you're able to do is lay supine and take whatever he gives

According to your family, everything about Terry Richmond had been a seemingly blood red flag: from his overtly frightening countenance, to his slightly unnerving marine status.

He is nothing but menacing as he hovers above you, parting your legs before reaching inside his jeans.

“You're squirming too much,” he says, “You want the cuffs?” Your throat dried with the recollection of the previous tike Terry had slapped his cuffs over your wrist. He had quite literally used your cunt to milk his cock and there was nothing you could do about it.

Despite loving the memory, and the sharp thrill it shoots straight to your clit, you wanna touch him, and you tell him as much.

He groans before lowering himself towards you.

“Shouldn't I take off-”

“Keep the dress on,” he lifts your hips before spreading your legs, for a moment he gets lost at what he sees There underneath all the pink frills and tulle.

“I'm going to get you pregnant,” he promises before lifting his eyes to meet yours, “Any objections?”

He's not smiling. His eyes are deep and hypnotic and you move your hips as if so incredibly needy to take anything he gives.

“No objections,” You shake your head and your words die in your throat when you feel your panties be swiped to the side once again. Terry's restraining himself. You can see it in the veins popping out of his neck.

You're not sure why.

“Green or Red?” His Eyes lift to meet you and you can feel the head of his cock press against your tight opening.

“Red,” you respond. “You can be rough- i just need y- FUCK-” he thrusts inside you, bottoming out almost immediately.

You didn't need any prep because you were already soaking through your underwear but your cunt still fought To bully his cock back out.

“Th-That hurts-” you grit your teeth as he begins to thrust shallowly inside you, despite having already bottom out. It's like he's searching for somewhere deeper to go and you both groan out loud at the thought.

“You’re so fucking wet, fuck-” He watched his cock slides back out completely before slamming it back in and you yelp at his brutal intrusion. It fulfills something ravenous in you, the way he lowers his hand to the side of your head before fucking into you with wreckless abandon.

“So fucking tight-”

“Fuckyoursobig-” your eyes are hollow and Terry knows from your slurred speech that you were fully in subspace.

“Shit- you tryna make me cum already, huh?”

Your bottom lips portudes and you look up at him, nodding dumbly, “You wanna be a good slut for your Daddy, don't you?”

The second he locks his thick palm around your throat, and you wear his hand like a collar, you're absolutely done for. Your hips lift to meet his thrusts and your tongue lolls out of your mouth.

“Such a fucking slut- shit-”

“Yo-Yours,” you moan, “Your slut-”

He immediately stills his hips before cursing aloud. Terry's lips crash down onto yours. A hungry kiss you weren't expecting but eagerly reciprocate.

“My pretty slut,” he nods his head in affirmation. patting down your head as if you always knew what to say. “That's right, baby.” You're bathed in the praise. You fucking absorbed it. “That's right, Clever Girl-”

“Oh my God, Daddy- please,” you lift your hips, urging him to continue drilling into you.

“You're such a good girl for me-” he continues to affirm as his hips move once more, “You gonna take my cun, aren't you, Pretty Girl? You gonna make Daddy proud and give him a baby-”

“Terry, ohmygod-” you can feel your cunt spasming around his cock.

“Ask.” He can see you teetering on the edge but his voice is dark and commanding. “You know better.” He warns. “Ask.”

“Please-” you search to hold onto something, anything that would stop you for cumming outright on your husband's cock, “Please let me cum, oh my god-”

He speeds up his own thrusts. Unbeknownst to you, your eagerness to take him, your whining and begging had him twitching inside you. It's like you became a vessel of his pleasure alone. You were good at that. You were good at making him the center of your universe.

“Cum for me, Pretty Girl.” It's all it takes for you to let yourself go completely. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as Terry squeezes your throat, sending you flying amongst the clouds. You curse and scream and your cunt is suffocating his cock until he can't handle it anymore.

“Gonna cum,” he affirms, his voice tense and his muscles tight, “Gonna cum so fucking hard inside my Pretty Girl-” even he had his limits. Soon he wasn't able to say anything. His words bled into uncontrollable groans as he trusted a steady stream of cum inside you.

You're patting down on his tense muscles, urging him to part with every single drop.

You're full.

So utterly full it has you seeing stars.

“That ought'a do it.” He says.

He’s nice Terry again.

[pearlessance]

Beneath the Armor —part one

summary: Joel Miller has been the center of all the gossip in the trailer park since he tragically lost his daughter. He's short-tempered and mean as hell, his hostility no doubt spurred on by that beer he always has in hand. But when you need a ride to work and he's your last resort, you come to find he's much more than what meets the eye.

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

warnings: explicit sexual content MDNI (not in this part but in part two!), ANGST with a happy ending, grief, mention of child loss, daddy issues, age difference, slow burn, attempted seduction, use of alcohol, and references to alcohol abuse, brat taming, eventual smut

wc: 6.9k

note: this entire concept is owed to my bff joelmillersgirlfriend over on AO3! we've cowritten this together (to the shock of no one, i'm pretty sure i need her to write at this point), and if you haven't gone over there to read her stuff by now then you're missing out!! part two coming soon <3 let us know what you think!

[part two]

[masterlist] [read on AO3!]

Talking to Joel Miller was like pulling teeth with a rusty old plier, one by one, nerve by nerve. He used his silence, his pity like a suit of armor. Meant to protect him, but still wrapped around a man who was too scared to confront his fears. To learn his own forgiveness. 

You had vaguely known him since you were a senior in high school and had seen him and his little girl move into the trailer across from yours. You were sitting on the front porch, occasionally sipping from the iced lemonade in your hand. Summer had come in hot, and the beaming sun was relentless during the first humid weeks of July. 

Joel and Sarah had been the talk of the neighborhood — the dad and the little girl with an oxygen tank. You heard the rumors from some of your friends in the trailer park - that Joel couldn’t afford to keep up with her medical bills, so he had to sell his house and abandon the business he had built up with his bare hands. 

Still, she was a fighter until her last breath. Joel, however, died the day Sarah did. She had only lived for eleven months after moving into the park. What was once a motivated little family fighting hard against the disease soon became a single man inside of an empty shell. 

His warm smiles that he would give to neighbors who brought Sarah over toys and “get well soon!” cards soon turned into nothingness — a dark, empty expression. Joel stopped going out as much, replacing soccer balls and dirty sneakers with whiskey and cigarettes. He no longer stood out on his porch, playing guitar and smiling at you once he met your eyes from your own porch. 

Kathy, who lived directly next to you, begged her husband, Parker, to call the cops for a wellness check for Joel. On the first anniversary of her death, he didn’t leave the house for a week. 

“Mind your own business. God only knows how he’s havin’ to cope; seeing cops knocking on his front door in the middle of the night won’t help nothing.”

You had to admit you were more than a little relieved when you saw him finally emerge, tired-looking with heavy eyes. He got in his car and left before coming back thirty minutes later, a new case of beer in tow.

You spent too much time observing him, ensuring he was alright, even if he didn’t know that. With no dad that you could remember and a mother who remarried some douchebag and skipped town after you were old enough to live on your own, all you had was time. After senior graduation, your friends in the park found a way to escape to college, but you were stuck and unable to escape, just like Joel. 

While your friends went to get a degree, you found a job at a bar up the road. It was grimy and far beyond your dream, but you earned good tips. With responsibilities that caused you to stay and a deep fear of failure, you could not leave the town you’d grown up in. 

Out of desperation, you’d leaped and applied to some college several towns away. It was a spur-of-the-moment impulse, an unrealistic kind of thing. It’s not like you’d be able to afford it anyway. 

So it was a cycle: wake up, work, sleep, and do it all over again. You understood how Joel must feel, trapped in a never-ending pattern, reliving memories that couldn’t ever really go away — not entirely.

And of course, you understood what it was like being handed the short end of the stick. You both wound up in the same place, after all. 

Which was what led you to walk towards Joel’s trailer one evening. Your shift at work was about to start, but your car wouldn’t crank. You'd tried going to Kathy’s house first, but nobody answered. You couldn’t lose your job, already having too many tardies because of your piece of shit car.

The soles of your shoes crunched against the leaves on Joel’s front porch step, your eyes moving to look at him sitting in a plastic lawn chair. His hair was getting long, hanging over his eyes wildly. 

Joel bristled when he noticed you standing on his front porch step, a cigarette hanging between his lips. You’d never been this close to him. It was much easier to see how handsome he was up close: thick hair, a graying beard. Simply too easy on the eyes.

“Can I help you?” he asked, his eyes slipping away from your face and down to your outfit. You always dressed up for work, knowing it’d get you extra tips. Maybe you went a little overboard with the fishnets and the amount of cleavage you were showing, but it always paid off in the end.

His hips shift in his seat, waiting for you to answer his question. 

You cleared your throat, standing up straight to make yourself feel more significant compared to the giant man. “I’m sorry to bother you. My car won’t start, and I’m gonna be late for work.”

Joel glared up at you. “So?”

Taken aback by his hostility, you paused, hesitating. You knew that he was a sad man, but nobody had told you that he was an asshole.

“So… I was hoping you could give me a ride. I could pay you for the gas and-“

Joel stood up in the middle of you talking, the wood creaking under his boots as he walked to the front door and into the house. You faltered, standing stupidly on this rude man’s front porch step.

With a huff, you spun around, leaving the porch. “Fuckin’ asshole,” you muttered under your breath, suddenly jumping at the sound of the screen door slamming shut behind you. Joel had returned, this time with keys in his hand and a brown t-shirt pulled over his white wife's beater. 

“Say somethin’?” Joel asked, walking ahead but narrowing his eyes directly at your face. 

“Nope,” you quickly chirped, rushing to catch up with him. “I thought you’d left me standing outside.”

“‘Bout did,” Joel grumbled under his breath, unlocking the truck door before climbing in. It was your turn to narrow your eyes at Joel, rolling them at the asshole. Even though he was an unexpected dickhead, you had to admit that you enjoyed the way his arms flexed as he pulled himself into his truck.

The drive to the bar was filled with mostly silence, except for the hum of some Radiohead album playing on the radio. Joel had the truck windows rolled down, the wind whipping the loose strands of your hair around your face. 

You tried to subtly glance over at him, watching the same cigarette from earlier placed between his plush lips. Without thinking, you reached over, plucking the cigarette away from his mouth. 

His dark eyes snapped at you in disbelief as he watched you inhale his cigarette, the residue from your lipstick staining the filter. You weren’t sure why you needed to catch Joel’s attention, but you were sure it somehow related to how he was ignoring you. It made you crave his attention. Fucking daddy issues. 

“Now you owe me gas money and a pack of Marlboro’s,” Joel said, reaching over to swipe the cigarette out of your mouth. He eyed the lipstick stain, sighing in annoyance before deciding the nicotine was worth it. 

Your blood warmed at the thought that Joel’s lips touched where yours had just been, indirectly tasting your mouth. His eyes flickered over to you, watching him, a low frown on his face. 

“What’s a girl like you workin’ at Dazzlers anyways?”

You huffed, rolling your eyes at his remark. “I’m a bartender, not a lap dancer,” you said, prompting Joel to give you an eye roll in return.

“Could’ve fooled me,” he muttered, almost so quietly that you didn’t notice, but you did. You understood that he had been through a lot, but Christ, there was no need to take it out on you. You swallowed your pride, knowing he was your last resort to not being fired.

Despite the weird tension and the silence, you found yourself drawn to Joel’s brooding energy, glancing at him occasionally through the darkness. 

Apparently, he was more observant than you thought.

“Need somethin’?” he questioned, not even glancing in your direction. Maybe it had to do with dad spidey senses or something, but being caught had made your blood warm in your veins.

You shook your head, unable to bite your tongue. 

“Nobody told me that you were such a dickhead.”

To your surprise, Joel didn’t even falter, with almost no response to your jab at his aggressive demeanor. 

“Yeah, well, watchin’ your daughter deteriorate right in front of you can change a man,” he replied bluntly, taking a long drag of his cigarette without even looking away from the road. 

It made you instantly feel bad, regretting your words no matter how much truth they held. 

“That’s not what I meant-“ you tried to explain, but Joel waved his hand, dismissing your excuse. His large palm made a rush of air past your face, your eyes blinking at him in response.

“Just leave it,” Joel grumbled, so you obeyed. It wasn’t for long before you arrived at your job, your eyes watching the bright neon lights flashing through the parking lot. You rifled through your purse, attempting to retrieve a couple of bills, but Joel’s palm wrapping around your own stopped you.

Bright-eyed, you looked up to meet his gaze, his usual timid expression replaced with one of determination. 

“You don’t gotta pay me.”

Strong words coming from someone who was just belittling you for owing him money for gas and cigarettes.

“I don’t wanna owe you anything. Just let me give you a couple of dollars and we’ll call it even,” you said, attempting to rifle back through your bag, but being stopped by his massive palm once again.

“Who’s gonna bring you back home tonight?” Joel questioned, his concern genuinely surprising you. Before you shrugged, you allowed your defenses to fall, mostly due to your shock.

“I don’t know yet. I’ll figure it out.”

Joel shook his head, rolling his eyes at your half-assed answer. “What time does your shift end?”

You paused, pulling your purse to your chest before glancing at the front of the building. Did you really want Joel to pick you up? Was sitting through another weirdly comforting yet intense ride worth it?

When you looked back at Joel, he didn’t seem willing to take no for an answer; his eyebrows were drawn into an almost scowl-like expression. Sighing with exasperation, you finally spoke. 

“We close at midnight.”

He nodded in response, breaking his intense eye contact with you before opting out to seemingly judge the building itself. It was a rough place, with neon lights flashing and motorcycles lined up at the entrance. It certainly looked more intimidating than it actually was. 

You were surprised when Joel decided to bite his tongue, not slipping out with some smart allelic response about the place. Instead, he hummed, a quick and easy response to your answer.  

“I’ll see you then,” he replied, but something about his words made your chest burn, like it was almost a promise that he’d be there to look out for you. To protect you. 

He did wind up picking you up that night and numerous nights after you explained to him that your alternator had given out and your car would be in the shop for a couple of days. He never argued or took your gas money despite the way he grumbled under his breath when you knocked at his front door at quarter past three. 

It was almost routine to have Joel take you to and from work, and when your car was back in operation, you nearly didn’t want to tell him. Though your time together hadn’t really given you a glimpse into the man Joel truly was since he hardly spoke, it allowed him to get to know you.

You’d rambled on about your absent father, how your mom had abandoned you once she realized you could support yourself. Never did he judge or belittle you. He’d always listen and make sure you were heard. 

Despite that, he never answered your questions when you’d pried at him. Asking him about family? No go. The business he’d given up? Of course not. 

Anything about Sarah?

The first and only time you had fished for information about her, you thought he was going to toss you out of his car. His eyes narrowed and fists clenched the steering wheel, an audible growl of anger leaving his throat.

“You ever say her name again, and you can walk to work, understand?” 

You hadn’t seen much of his anger explode like that before, except during the unexpected arrival of his brother, Tommy. It was on the evening that you finally got your car back, and as you mustered the courage to walk over to Joel’s trailer to let him know that he didn’t have to take you back and forth, you noticed something. In front of his crumbling front deck was a dark pick-up truck, one that didn’t belong in a place like this. It was sparkling new, clearly waxed, with big, gleaming rims.

Before you even had the chance to think much about it, you heard a shout inside Joel’s trailer, a booming voice that almost made you scurry back to your own home.

“I already told you, Tommy! I’m not doin’ it!” Footsteps tracked through the house, heavy boots against weak plywood practically shaking the trailer. You could see shapes pass by the front window, suggesting that both Joel and his seemingly unwanted guest were about to come outside.

Now you were actually scurrying across his lawn, attempting to retreat back from Joel’s yard before you were spotted, but the front door opened too quickly. Thankfully, the heated conversation between him and who you assumed to be Tommy precluded their heated gazes from meeting yours. 

Without wanting to assume who Tommy was, he certainly looked like he was related to Joel - their intense glares were almost identical. The height, the face-shapes, all of it. Even Tommy’s deep drawl matched as he bellowed in return. 

“I don’t understand why you gotta be so goddamn stubborn. Here I am, drivin’ halfway across the county just to see you, to give you an opportunity to get out of this shithole, but instead, you’re chosin’ to live in a shell and letting yourself wind up just like-”

Joel’s frame towered over Tommy’s despite the considerable height that Tommy had himself. Something dark was brewing beneath Joel’s features, clearly quite close to boiling over. Even though you knew you were watching an intense, private moment, you had never seen this kind of emotion from Joel before. You were almost bewitched, unmoving, questioning if you should intervene to stop a potential fight from breaking out.

Tommy’s nostrils were flared, his chest pressed against Joel’s, while Joel’s fists were clenched into a tight ball, threatening to strike like a snake. 

“I told you last time. Bring her up again, and you won’t have a mouth left to speak from.”

Tommy scoffed. “She was just as much mine as she was yours, Joel. Just because you ran away when things got hard and buried yourself deeper and deeper into a hole doesn’t mean I don’t miss her.” He began to stomp off of the front porch, making his way to the truck that was parked in the driveway. 

“But that’s fine! This will be the last damn time I come over thinkin’ that maybe you’re ready to change. Go ahead and delete my number from your phone.”

Both you and Joel, as well as a couple of other neighbors who had decided to leave their houses to view the commotion, watched Tommy’s truck tires screech against the pavement. His departure was bitter and final, an angry bite to the way he spit those words.

You can’t imagine being on the receiving end of them, and when you turned your head to glance at Joel, you found his eyes boring into you. His shoulders are pulled tight, and his jaw is set, and he said nothing as he stepped back into his trailer and slammed the door hard behind him. 

Perfect timing, you thought to yourself. There’s never been a better day for your car to have been up and running again. You didn’t waste time lingering in his yard.

But before you can feel the pavement of the narrow street beneath your sneakers, his disgruntled voice cut through the air. “Where do you think you’re goin’?”

You turned to face him, unsure of yourself. Joel’s an asshole, you know that much, but you didn’t think you’ve ever seen him this worked up and angry. “Uhm…about that. I was just coming to tell you that I don’t need a ride today-”

Joel scoffed and shook his head, keys jingling in his hand “Get in the damn truck,” he said, venom on his tongue. And you know he’s not mad at you, but your stomach turned at his fury anyway. “Gonna be late if we don’t get a move on.”

Tomorrow, you decide. You’ll tell him about your car tomorrow. But for now, you do as he said. While he stuck the key in the ignition and turned the engine over, you climbed into the passenger seat, which still smelled faintly of your perfume from the night before.

He pulled onto the road and started the familiar route to the bar, his movements rehearsed and, by now, muscle memory. You sat in silence as he steered with one hand and pulled a cigarette from the center console with the other. He lit it, inhaled the nicotine deep into his lungs, and let out a heavy sigh.

You wondered if you should say something. A million questions are pressed against the back of your teeth. But now isn’t the best time to poke and prod for a glimpse into the man he is outside of what you’ve seen with your own two eyes. So you decided to say something else instead, something that might grant him a little relief. “My car is fixed. That’s what I was trying to tell you. So, tomorrow, you won’t have to worry about giving me rides anymore.”

He glanced at you briefly and then shook his head. “No.”

The word is so simple and definitive in his mouth that it caught you off guard. So much so that you found yourself fighting amusement. “What do you mean no?”

“Just what I said, damn it. You hard of hearing all of a sudden?”

“Jesus. What the fuck is wrong with you?” You hadn’t wanted to press his buttons. Truly. But what right does he have to spew insults as if you were the one screaming at him on his front porch? Your tone was condescending as you said, “Come on. Try it with me; congrats! I’m sooo happy things are finally going your way! I’m glad I could be of help! No problem at all-!”

“Cut that shit out.”

“Me? You first.”

His jaw feathered as he clenched his teeth. He ashed his cigarette out of the open window and then sighed again, calmer this time. “Alright. I’m…”

“Sorry?”

His throat bobbed as if he tried to get the word out but it didn’t quite make it to his tongue. Instead, he just said, “Yeah.”

This time, you’re the one sighing. “It’s okay.”

Another few seconds of silence passed between you, but they were not as uncomfortable as they’d been when you’d first gotten into the truck. Less tension, less anger. And then he said, “Don’t want you drivin’ anywhere in that thing in the middle of the night.”

Your heart pinched in your chest at the words. They’re said with a certain sort of irritation, but yet they’re still so… protective. It’s not something you’ve ever had before, but in the last few days he’s given you a taste and it isn’t until now that you realized you’d developed a craving for it. “Why not?”

“Ain’t safe. Could break down again any second. Leave you stranded at midnight in the middle of nowhere. God knows the kinda people you’re servin’ at that place, would consider themselves lucky to find ya on the side of the road.” He shook his head as if to clear the image from his mind. “I’ll just keep takin’ ya.”

Even though you fought the warmth that crawled up your cheeks, you know he could tell his words did something to you. Joel’s attention left the road for only long enough to steal a fleeting glance at your face, and when he turned back to the task at hand he snorted incredulously. 

But it’s the first time that anyone has ever considered your safety and altered their routine to make it a priority. It makes you feel special and warm and…wanted. And you know it’s likely your daddy issues blurring the lines once again, but you just can’t help yourself or the way your mind jumped to conclusions. “Is that your way of saying you care about me?”

He pressed his fingertips into his temple to massage away a headache. “Stop that.”

You didn’t listen. Of course, you don’t. You leaned in closer, hands on the empty leather seat between you. “Aww… who would've thought Joel Miller would secretly be a softie?” You’d never been so close to him before, so close that you could see the brown-colored freckles splattered across the bridge of his nose.

You swallowed down your sudden nerves due to the close proximity, enjoying the way Joel shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“I said cut it out. Sit back down the right way ‘fore I get a ticket.”

It was impossible to follow his orders now, not after seeing how easy it was to rile him up.

Moving even closer, your lips a breath's distance away from Joel’s neck, you whispered, “I think you like the attention.”

“I think you’re mistaken,” he huffed back, but his voice lacked the bite he intended, much softer than the way he was yelling at Tommy earlier. His gaze flicked over to you, watching with an intense curiosity, but only momentarily. 

“I won’t tell you again,” Joel commanded, brushing you back to your seat with a gentle shove of his elbow.

“What are you gonna do if I don’t?” you questioned, although you were sitting back in your seat like he asked you to. “Punish me? Spank me?”

He snorted, shaking his head. “Yeah, I oughta. Maybe it’d finally teach you some manners,” Joel glanced over to catch your eye. “Anyone ever told you that you got a real weird sense of humor?”

Shrugging, you couldn’t help the slide smirk that spread across your face. “Blame it on my daddy issues.”

Joel didn’t even try to hide his disbelief, a red flush rising from the top of his collarbones and up his neck.

“Lord help me,” he whispered under his breath. 

You granted him a bit of grace, ending your teasing and opting to enjoy the sound of music playing on the radio for the rest of the ride. It was always peaceful riding with Joel, the heat of the summer breeze warming your face. 

From the heady smell of Joel’s Marlboros to the shrill voice of The Smashing Pumpkins playing over the speakers; the comfort of the situation always made you want to break down Joel’s walls. You wanted to see what he was like when he was entirely vulnerable, what he looked like when he woke up in the morning and didn’t have the opportunity to remember all his worries.

From that moment, you decided that you would get Joel to open up one way or another.

Your heart dropped a little when he pulled into the bar's parking lot, his tires crunching against the loose gravel. Joel’s long fingers were swift, reaching to the radio to turn down the music. 

Things felt weird, that same intensity from the moment you’d gotten into the car returning. It felt like he wanted to say something, his mouth twitching before his lips were pressed into a straight line.

“I wasn’t joking, y’know,” you said, hoping to break the awkward silence of saying goodbye. 

Joel didn’t say anything, the curious raise of his eyebrow speaking for him. 

“About wanting you to spank me,” you snipped back, hopping out of his truck right after you admitted it to him. You could see what appeared to be a stifled smile forming on his lips as he shook his head. It made you feel good that you were able to distract him from reality for even a couple of minutes. God knew he needed it.

“See you at midnight. Stay out of trouble,” he called back from his truck, waiting to leave until he watched you safely enter the building.

He was on your brain your entire shift, which wasn’t unusual. What was different now was the pieces of information you’d found out, ranging from his argument with Tommy and his little resistance to your flirting.

So, of course, curiosity killed the cat. On your break you found yourself googling a string of searches; Joel Miller, Tommy, Joel and Tommy, until eventually you landed on an old company website.

Miller Bros Construction Company.

It was outdated, with inquiries and testimonials from years ago, but it did answer a couple of your questions. After clicking on the “about us” tab, you saw a photo of a much younger, happier-looking Joel. 

His arm was thrown around Tommy’s shoulder, a huge smile plastered on his face. If you didn’t know every inch of Joel’s face, you would’ve considered that it wasn’t actually him. He looked so… happy. It broke your heart to know that he had become half of the man he used to be.

‘Brothers Joel and Tommy Miller have been serving the greater population of Austin, TX for several years,’ the tab read, confirming your suspicions that they were related. You glanced at Tommy, happily smiling next to Joel, directly contradicting what you’d seen earlier.

The inquiry tab at the bottom was broken, redirecting to a no longer active form.

Christ. His daughter's death had indeed ruined him. It had sucked all of the happiness out of Joel, leaving him angry and alone. He pushed everything good and decent away.

You spent the rest of your break lurking, sifting through Tommy’s Facebook page, seeing his now solely owned business booming. He had a pretty fiancé, and things honestly looked good for him. You noticed that Joel was nowhere on his page, but you would occasionally see photos of Tommy and Sarah beaming together before she’d gotten sick.

The guilt of it all had eaten at you, so severely that you decided to buy a burger plate before the kitchen closed for the night. Joel had gone out of his way to take care of you, to take you back and forth from work, even though he grumbled about it. He deserved to feel taken care of in return.

Plus, you were almost certain that his diet mainly consisted of cigarettes and alcohol. How he still looked so goddamn good was a question you’d never have answered.  

When you left work, it was like clockwork; Joel’s truck sat outside the building, waiting for you.

The sun was long gone by now, so it was difficult to see Joel sitting in the driver's seat. You’d hoped that he had cooled off from earlier, especially now that you know more about the context of the argument. 

You plopped into the passenger seat, greeting Joel only by placing the plate of food on the center console.

“What’s this?” Joel questioned, no hello or how was your shift? Typical Joel Miller.

“What’s it look like? I got you dinner.”

He rolled his eyes, pointing a finger at the clock display. “It’s midnight.”

“And…?” He raised his brows and you clicked your tongue in response. “When was the last time you had a meal that wasn’t made in a microwave?”

Joel fixed you with a stare, and something lingered in his eyes that you couldn’t quite make out. It’s as if he’s trying to decide whether to yell at you or simply say thank you. “I didn’t ask you to do that,” he stated, but there was no malice in it. 

“I know. I wanted to.” You shrugged casually because it was truly nothing to you. But apparently, Joel didn’t see it that way.

The truck sat idle in the parking lot. He said nothing for several seconds, which felt far too long. It was dark—the only illumination provided was the distant street lamps outside, but you swore you could see the corners of his mouth turn up. Not quite a smile, but something. And it made you feel so victorious that you thought about mentioning it, about making some snide remark, but know better by now. 

Instead, you teased him. “At this rate, I might as well pack a bag and stay the night here.”

Joel scoffed but turned the key in the ignition anyway. “You got a mouth on you, girl. That’s for damn sure.”

“Yeah, well, you haven’t sent me away yet. So there must be something you like about it, right?”

He doesn’t agree but he doesn’t deny it, either. Still, sarcasm dripped off his tongue as he said, “Somethin’ like that.”

When he turned the radio up, a rock ballad played and put you at ease. You start to realize that these quiet moments with him are the lightest part of your days. Nothing to think about but the way the cool wind hit your face and the sound of his soft humming from behind the wheel. It’s simple and good and you feel safe.

When he pulled into the trailer park a short while later, you almost hated to see it end. For a split second, you debated inviting him over in an attempt to extend your time together. But you knew that after the day he’s had, he probably didn’t want the company. So instead, you gathered your things and hopped out of the truck. “Thanks for the ride. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Hang on a sec.”

You paused with your hand on the passenger door. “Yeah?”

Joel hesitated. He opened his mouth to speak, but all he managed was, “Uh..” His eyes darted everywhere but yours. The dashboard, the steering wheel, his hands - everywhere but you.

He’s nervous, you realized. Uneasy. You tried to comfort him. “What is it?”

“I, uh…I was just wonderin’ if, I don’t know. You wanna… split it with me?” He pointed to the takeout container. “Or you could have a drink, or…do you drink?”

Your heart was doing somersaults behind your sternum. A girlish giggle left you despite your attempts to hide your excitement. Through a face-splitting grin, you asked, “Like a date?”

“Christ,” he sneered. “You know what? I take it back. Never-”

“I’m kidding!” Your laughter filled the cab of the truck. “I’m just kidding, Joel, I swear. Of course, I’ll come in for a drink.”

He looked hesitant, and at first, you thought it was because of how you’d been pulling his leg all night. By the time you had made it inside of his trailer, you realized that he was probably a little nervous on account of the mess in his living room.

Empty bud light bottles covered the surface of the side table next to his couch. An ashtray haphazardly placed on the kitchen counter was long overdue to be emptied, ash and half-smoked cigarettes threatening to spill over. Next to it were a couple of prescription bottles, the print too small for you to make out what they were supposed to be treating.

No matter how you felt about the place, you understood how difficult it all must’ve been for Joel. It wasn’t dirty or anything, just unkempt, a man overwhelmed by grief too distracted to focus on cleaning.

“It’s not much to see, but feel free to make yourself at home,” Joel said, slipping past you at the front door to place the bag of food down on the kitchen counter. You watched him momentarily, taking in the normalcy of his routine.

His movements to wash his hands before eating, the clatter of plates being pulled out of the dishwasher. Watching him in his element relaxed you. You tried to envision what it was like in the home when Sarah was still alive, filling the space with her innocent laughter. 

“I won’t bite,” Joel spoke, pulling you out of your own head. Your gaze refocused, a quiet sense of fulfillment washing over you as you watched him for a fleeting second. 

“I wouldn’t mind if you did,” you chirped back, toeing out of your work shoes and heading over to his leather couch. A knitted blanket thrown across the leather prevented the back of your legs from pressing against the cold material, and you were grateful. 

“Do you get pleasure outta givin’ me a hard time or something?” Joel asked, plopping next to you. He slid a plate over to your side of the coffee table, pulling the table forward slightly so you’d be able to reach it easier. He placed two beers on the table, too, and cracked the seal of yours. It’s such a small but gentlemanly thing to do, and you try not to think too hard about how it makes your heart swell.  

You hadn’t even realized how hungry you were until he unwrapped the bag and split the food between the two of you, your stomach growling in response. 

“I just like seeing you squirm,” you joked, noticing how Joel shook his head and snorted under his breath. Both of you ate together, quietly but comfortably. 

You were sure that Joel spent most of his nights like this, in his living room with the TV flashing light across the walls of the house. It made you feel good that you were there to change his routine so he wouldn’t have to be alone.

The longer that time passed and the less food on your plate created an odd sense of pressure, that you were running out of time to pull something new out of Joel. Being in his home was an accomplishment on its own, but you still had a challenge with yourself to learn even more.

“Do you wanna, uh,” you began to speak, picking at one of your fries to fill the awkward space, “y’know… talk about earlier?”

“Nope,” he replied without hesitation, which you probably should’ve expected. Your pout was uncontrollable, discouraged by his instant lack of vulnerability. But you weren’t going to force him to talk, because he’d for sure shut down. 

“Not to be cheesy or anything, but you’re pretty decent to be around, once you stopped being an asshole all the time,” you said, finishing the final bite of your fry. “If you ever need to talk about shit, I’m probably the best option you got here. Kathy tells everyone’s business, so.”

Joel actually chuckled at that, a deep, rumbling sound that made your gut twist. “I didn’t plan on talkin’ to anybody about anything, much less Kathy. But thanks.”

You nodded, a pang of disappointment flickering through your abdomen.

That night, you thanked him for the company and he promised to meet you in the afternoon right on time. The same routine you’ve had all week. 

You and Joel get good at routines. Because the next night when you brought him dinner again, he didn’t even ask if you’d like to eat with him. He just said, “Picked up some sodas earlier. Figured you might want that instead of beer.”

And just like that, it became a nightly thing. The cooks at the bar don’t even ask what you want any more, they simply have the food finished by the time you’re ready to meet Joel in the parking lot. You had even occasionally fallen asleep in his living room, the comforting sound of the TV humming and Joel’s even breathing lulling you to sleep.

He always made sure to throw a blanket over you and quietly slip into his room, never waking you or forcing you to leave. It was an unspoken rule.

So, due to your growing interest in Joel and alleviating some of his stress, you decided to take a leap. One morning you’d woken up on Joel’s couch after falling asleep there the night before. Joel wasn’t home, which wasn’t unusual since he sometimes picked up odd jobs at the mechanic's shop in town to pay the bills. 

It was the perfect opportunity to clean his house. You weren’t sure how he was going to feel about it, but you were only going to take out the trash and leave everything else as it was. You didn’t need him hollering at you for moving his shit around.

You had a good four hours to just clean out the place, and Jesus, you needed it. It appeared that he didn’t have any other cleaning products besides bleach and dish soap, which you couldn’t really use to get some old stains out of the carpet. It had taken you an hour of rifling through your own stuff to get the correct products and supplies to make a dent. 

By the time you finished a couple hours later, you had three trash bags full of random newspapers, beer cans, and whatever other miscellaneous stuff you were sure Joel wouldn’t be upset to part with. Surprisingly, you hadn’t seen anything belonging to Sarah, no pictures hanging on the wall, no toys, nothing that indicated that anyone besides Joel had lived there.

That was until you’d decided to step into the room towards the back of the trailer. Joel’s bedroom was hardly used, his bed made and room clean, indicating that he probably spent most of his nights on the couch, so you didn’t bother cleaning that space. You were, however, curious about the spare room.

As soon as you’d opened it, you knew why you couldn’t find anything of Sarah’s. It was like a museum, a room stuck in time. Light pink paint covered the wall, the late afternoon sun streaming in colorful rays through the sheer purple curtains. The bed was made, without a wrinkle in sight, with a little teddy bear tucked in, as if it was keeping the bed warm for Sarah’s return.

You stepped in a little, taking in the small details; the photos of Joel and Sarah hugging on the wall, a little caboodle makeup box, and nail polishes lined up against the dresser. What truly broke your heart was the oxygen tank that was placed next to her bed, still attached to the mask. 

“The fuck you think you’re doin’?” spoke a voice from behind you, almost causing your body to jump out of its skin. You whipped around to see an absolutely fuming Joel watching you with narrowed eyes. You stammered, quickly trying to come up with some sort of excuse.

“I was cleaning and I thought, I mean I was thinking that-“

Joel quickly approached you, his face only a mere breath away from yours. You were too anxious to even notice the closeness because you knew he was beyond pissed. You don’t think he was even this mad when he was fighting with Tommy.

“I don’t know why you think that you’re entitled to comin’ into my life, touchin’ my shit, steppin’ foot into this room, but guess what? You’re not.” He spat, stepping even closer to you. You felt tiny, like a bug ready to be squashed by a foot. 

“You don’t mean shit to me. Just because your life is fucked up doesn’t mean I need you to try to come into mine and save me. I don’t wanna be saved. Now get the hell outta my house,” he spoke, his voice unwavering and scarily calm. It took every ounce of strength inside of you not to cry, not to shout, because you knew he didn’t mean it. You had crossed his invisible line, despite not doing it intentionally.

But you weren’t strong enough to control your emotions, and eventually, the pressure of Joel’s angry words left your eyes watering. Though your jaw was clenched and your face wasn’t giving much away, Joel easily saw past the facade and noticed the tears welling up in your eyes.

And he scoffed. A quick laugh, right in your face, at seeing your tears. 

“Christ, you gonna cry now? Upset that you don’t got no daddy here to comfort you, gotta take out all your trauma on me? Fuckin’ pathetic.” 

Your tears turned from hurt, into angry, hot streams rolling down your face.

“Fuck you, Joel.”

You could feel your blood pumping in your head, so angry that you could break something. He was lucky that you made your way straight out of his house instead of grabbing all of the trash bags and pouring them right back onto the floor. 

You knew that he was self-destructing, that he was pushing you away because you were too good for him, but it didn’t make his words hurt any less. He wasn’t wrong. You did take interest in him because he was broken, similar to yourself. Despite that, it didn’t hurt any less.

As painful as it was to believe, you began to wonder if he had fooled you.

Maybe all that remained of Joel Miller was the worst part of him.

[part two]

[iamthatonefangirl]

Can you write something about Bucky and different toys he uses pretty please? I also wanna claim this 🍌 emoji teehee. Thank youuu

toys - nsfw fatws bucky barnes

i gotchu nonnie 🍌

~~~

the way Bucky blushed when you took him to the sex shop was a sight like no other. seeing him that embarrassed? only other time that happened was that one time you called him a good boy.

"didn't have this kinda stuff in my day, doll," he excuses, picking up a bottle of grape-flavored, desensitizing lube. his brow furrows as he reads the label.

he follows you to another section, passing by some tentacle-looking things on the way.

"that's gotta hurt," you comment as you pass by.

his face contorts as he looks at it. "that's supposed to go inside you? it's got a pointy end!"

you shrug your shoulders and keep walking. he considers it for another minute, shocked every single day by what he finds in the 21st century, before continuing to follow you.

he grits his teeth and keeps his head down as you check out fifteen minutes later.

~~~

that embarrassment of his is long fucking gone once he gets you home.

you're barely in the door when he comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing down your neck. "I bet you're just dying for me to fuck you with your new toys, aren't you, babygirl?"

his hand trails down from your waist to the button of your pants.

"James!" you yelp, and you can't help but laugh at his eagerness.

"come on. let me, baby?"

"it's the middle of the day," you excuse as his hands stop moving abruptly, resting in place over your clothes.

"all the more reason to let me take you to bed now. we've got hours..." he says, unzipping your pants and sliding his hand underneath. "you gonna let me fuck you for hours, baby? hmm?" he says, rubbing you over the fabric of your underwear.

you stand there, leaning your weight against him with your eyes closed. you let him hold you and rub you for a minute or two before relenting.

"take me to bed, James," you affirm, and then you're being hoisted over his shoulder as he does exactly as you've requested.

~~~

after a few minutes of unpackaging and reading instructions, he's ripping off your clothes as though they've personally offended him.

"here you go, doll, just like it's my cock," he says as he parts your lips with his thumb and begins to push thick silicone over your tongue. your eyes shut as he feeds you the length of the dildo, his own eyes widening in arousal as he watches.

"that's it. get it nice and wet for me, baby. knowing you, though, your cunt is probably already soaked just from this, aren't you? you drip like a faucet whenever I do anything at all to you, baby. even something this demeaning."

you moan around the toy, even as it's buried in the back of your throat. you do exactly as he's instructed, trying to pretend like it's his dick, but the taste of the silicone is foreign and off-putting.

you take it anyway. you take whatever he gives you.

he pulls it out from between your lips and presses it back in a couple times as you drool all over it. you can't help it.

he soon reaches down to pull your panties off with vibranium fingers, making you squirm as his fingertips tease you with the motion.

his other hand, holding the toy against your lips, withdraws it to bring it down to where he's now exposed you to his gaze. he presses the tip against your clit, the same way he'd do with his cock, and you buck your hips up against the sensation.

he wastes no time dipping his fingers into your heat, but it's only just a moment before he gives you what you've both been waiting for. you're both far too eager for this to wait any longer.

he pushes the silicone inside, slowly fucking you with the dildo, only giving you another inch or so at a time. he's watching, you know it, eyes focused on the way your hole stretches as he opens you up for him.

"fuck, babydoll, that's such a pretty sight," he says lowly. "I don't think I'll ever get tired of watching this."

you lie there, gently writhing under him as he spreads your thighs further so as to get a better look. you feel like you're under a microscope, being analyzed and observed so intently, but you know he's eating this up. you love him and he loves you. you trust him with this, even as you feel so vulnerable.

he leans in to lick at your clit as he fucks you slowly. but then a light must go off in his head and he pulls back, looking up at you with a smirk. he leans over to the nightstand where he's conveniently laid out your entire haul from your shopping trip.

he waves a bright pink wand over your face, making your face heat a little bit as you look at it. he stares down at it, looking for the "on" button, and flicking through the settings before finding one that apparently pleases him.

"here, babygirl," he says, pushing it into your hand. you consider it for a moment, looking it up and down, before he urges you on.

"come on. you know what to do."

you tentatively bring it between your legs and to your clit, letting out a low moan as you move it over your sensitive skin, figuring out how best to use it.

he pauses his ministrations with the silicone still buried inside you. his gaze flicks between your facial expressions and the sight between your legs. he notices the way you begin to relax into it, the way you become more whiney and really begin to enjoy the feeling.

you're not at all prepared for it when he leans in and presses his tongue against you, laving over you where the vibrator makes contact with your skin. you gasp as he licks between your labia and the vibrator, and it's so wonderfully intense.

sure enough, he leans back and begins to thrust the dildo in and out of you once more, eyes focused solely on the view between your legs.

you watch him for a minute, seeing the excitement in his eyes as he plays with you to his heart’s content. he looks like a kid in a candy shop.

he can’t help but spit on the dildo as he pulls it out, watching the way he fucks it back into you. he pokes at the head of the vibrator, pressing it deeper into your clit for a millisecond at a time to see your reaction.

it makes you squirm, the feeling all-consuming, all while his gaze never veers off track. his shoulders are strategically placed to hold your legs apart, not letting you hide anything from him.

"you close yet?" he mumbles.

"mhm," you whine, your hips shifting of their own accord, enhancing the feeling and making the show even more delicious for him.

"that's it, baby. come on. gonna watch your pretty little pussy fall apart for me, right in front of my eyes."

you slowly get louder, breath increasing, limbs shaking. the feeling of the vibrator is so intense. your arm is trembling, and you struggle to hold the wand because of it, so your grip loosens–

he takes over, holding the wand in place, forcing you to endure the overwhelming sensation.

as you fall over the edge, you're louder than you think you've ever been before, whining out, "James.” you can't even manage to take a full breath.

he's never seen anything more beautiful.

"fuck," you say when you come down, and he tosses both toys onto the sheets beside you.

he crawls over you and brings his eyes to meet yours, looking between them to check in, before pressing a kiss to your lips, licking over your bottom lip.

he pulls back to ask you, grinning devilishly, “you gonna let me keep doing that to you all day, baby?"

~~~

hope this was enough to feed you for today nonnie 🫶

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[nerdygirlramblings]

They've got me in a chokehold

Elder Stigr walks off, and you watch his long, angry strides quickly close the distance between him and the rest of your village, leaving you and your gods standing with the shrines. From the corner of your eye you watch his Jon walks over to his shrine placing his hand on the curved blade of the altar. "This is beautifully rendered," he says, voice low and full of tenderness.

You know you cannot stare at the ground but it feels too dangerous to meet anyone's eyes. You flick your gaze to Jon briefly before looking out across the village. "I did my best to ensure the altars and shrines looked as they had."

A rustle of cloth and warm breath on your neck reminds you to keep better track of where each of these men are. Your people do not know who they truly are, but you cannot let yourself forget that these are gods in human form.

There's a lilt to the cadence of the voice in your ear. "Your offerings woke us, and we wanted to come thank you." Light touches on your lower back and you can't resist the shover that accompanies them. Jon is still at his altar and Si to one side. You think it's Tav behind you, hand resting possessively.

Your suspicion is confirmed moments later when Gaz steps into your line of sight and lifts one hand tenderly in his. Placing a kiss along your knuckles, he murmurs quietly, "Your daily prayers and the prayers and offerings of your people have restored our strength." It's echoes of words that chased you from dreams of them. Somehow hearing it outside your dreams is both threat and promise.

As he speaks Jon turns to you, hand still resting on his altar. "What I said at last night's feast is true. Word of your work and the miracle it brought to your people is spreading. Other villages have begun to worship us again in their own ways." He runs a hand gently over the curved blades again and looks at the other alters. "None has established shrines quite as nice as these, but that may be yet to come."

Your gaze glances between them, unsure where to look until a rough hand gently grabs your chin, tilts you to face Si. "We've come to repay what you've done and claim the life you've promised."

You inhale sharply, hand to your chest. It feels as though all the air in your lungs is gone. The sounds of chatter, of the birds, the trees, animals in the field have all ceased. The sunlight, which moments ago was causing beads of sweat to roll down your skin, feels dimmer. Cooler. As though something has pulled the life from where you stand.

Jon clears his throat and looks at Si. "Yes. But in due time. And not as you may think." He looks over at you. "There used to be 141 of us. Your ancient pantheons had deities far and wide. Because of you, we four remain, but there are others whose restoration would prove just as beneficial for your people."

John explains how your next step as seer needs to be to help revive some more of these ancient gods. Apparently the tome where you found the original ritual was only one of a larger set. Like these ancient gods, those additional tones have been lost. But Jon describes these other gods: the twinned goddesses Las and Wel, who protect women and children; Fra, who guards hearth and home; Lex, who carries messages; and paired gods Ale and Rudi, who protect travelers.

Jon explains what you need to ask the elders for, how to construct the shrines, what to offer and when. "Ask for a little at a time. Push too fast and your people will lose faith. If you can wake the others, I promise your people will flourish."

Tav's hand has stayed a heavy weight on your back this whole time. As Jon makes his proclamation, Tav's grip tightens and his voice is gruff when he says, "As you restore them, as the 141 return, we can reclaim our palace on Fjall Gothar."

"And that palace will need its queen," Gaz says warmly.

more

series masterlist | main masterlist

[sky--phantom]

Times other people discussed Solavellan + Times Solas and Lavellan talked about each other (dav)

"I've seen how you look at him. You're in it" - Sera

"Is it my imagination, dear, or have certain... lingering looks passed between you and our Solas?" - Vivienne

"You're real, and it means everyone could be real. It changes everything, but it can't" - Cole

"The two of you were close. Perhaps he had no choice? He might return at any moment" - Leliana

"How have you been? It seems ages since we've spoken. I know you were cruely disappointed when Solas left" - Vivienne

"Are you hoping for word on Solas? I'm sorry, Inquisitor. I'm afraid I have nothing" - Leliana

"I've been meaning to ask... Solas hasn't come back? Sent word? Anything?" - Thom

"Oh, and Inquisitor? Feels weird, but I'm sorry Solas never came back. Well, no, I'm not, but... I'm sorry he left you." - Sera

"I am not a god, Charter. I am prideful, hotheaded, and foolish, and I am doing what I must. When you report back to the Inquisitor…. Say that I am sorry.” - Solas

"Maybe it's gullible of me, but I know the Inquisitor feels the same: Solas isn't too far gone to bring back" - Varric

"Solas was... important to me. If this statuette helps you understand him, if it uncovers something that... Honestly, I don't know. I wish I did. But this feels like a part of him, and whatever he and I once were... I think... I-I hope... it might help you" - Lavellan

"And when I served the Inquisition, I tried to avoid entanglements" - Solas

"Except for Inquisitor Lavellan" - Rook

"I said that I resolved to do so, not that I succeeded. She's a good woman. Growing close to her was... selfish of me" - Solas

"Do you regret it?" - Rook

"I live with countless regrets. Some of them I have grown to cherish more than my victories" - Solas

"Solas took this path because he thinks he has no choice. But the Inquisitor believes there is another way for him. For them. She could save him, if he would just let her" - Harding

"God of Lies, Dread Wolf, Fen'Harel. They're titles he earned from enemies, followers and fractured history. He and I shared another name: Vhenan" - Lavellan

"You've spoken to him in your dreams. You've felt the power of that mind. His love could burn against me like a bonfire. He seemed so kind, and wise, and sad, and looked at me as if I somehow mattered more than anything around us. For a time... I thought I would have followed anywhere he asked me to" - Lavellan

"Or maybe I'm the prideful one, imagining his broken heart so that I never have to face my folly. That I loved someone who made such grave mistakes. That I might love him still" - Lavellan

"He really made you happy?" - Rook

"Yes, he really did" - Lavellan

"Harding... I am sorry" - Solas

"For what, Solas? Betraying the Inquisitor and breaking her heart?" - Harding

"Is there any chance - any chance at all - that he would listen to reason?" - Lavellan

"Speaking from the heart, Inquisitor?" - Morrigan

"With Elgar'nan and and Ghilan'nain dead, and the Inquisitor finally reunited with her true love... it looked like one of the biggest stories this world had ever seen was finally drawing to a close" - Varric

[4milly]

make it to morning • jimmy u. 1

gif credit @punksrhea.

the tales of 2 roommates, and 1 man.

warning: unprotected sex, possessiveness, cheating, fingering, drunk sex, sex tapes, secret-relationships, pillow talk, oral sex (both m and f receiving), sneaky links, exhibitionism, manipulation, (warnings will update as story progresses)

parings: trinity x jimmy uso x malasia (black!oc) (no one is married in this story!)

inspired by @msbigredmachine !!! <3 for this amazing marvelous piece here xoxo ❤️

the music pumped through malasia's body. that mixed with endless counts of reposado shots? wasn't going to end well. she could feel the room beginning to turn. people jumping up and down all over the place, screaming out sexyy red's lyrics, the heat from the club. it was all damn near suffocating

if i don't get out this bitch, i'm going to fucking faint.

"girl, you good?" trinity yelled out above the music, and slightly less drunker than her.

"yea! i-i just need some air." she stumbled out of the section towards the outside. unaware, of trinity behind her.

trinity and malasia were far from best friends. or even friends. it was trinity's birthday, and wanting to be kind, she invited out malasia.

that was their relationship: practical, transactional. their paths rarely crossed in the apartment—trinity worked nights at a high-end restaurant on ocean drive, while malasia designed websites from their tiny dining room table.

they'd established silent routines: trinity made coffee before bed that malasia would reheat in the morning; malasia would wash any dishes before trinity woke up at noon.

the ad had been simple enough: "roommate needed. 2bed/2bath. south beach. $1100/month + utilities." malasia had responded within minutes of seeing it pop up on craigslist, desperate after her ex-boyfriend had decided their five-year relationship wasn't worth continuing—or helping with rent. she'd attached a brief bio, mentioned she was clean, employed remotely, and needed immediate housing. trinity had responded with equal brevity: "apartment tour thursday. 6pm. don't be late."

they'd spent exactly forty-seven minutes together before trinity handed over a key and a list of house rules. rule #7: "don't expect us to be friends."

"you feeling better?" trinity asked now, leaning against the railing. her birthday crown sat crooked on her braids, catching the neon lights from the club sign.

"yeah. just… went too hard." malasia took a long sip of water. "you didn't have to follow me out here."

"i didn't expect you to invite me tonight," malasia admitted, the tequila still loosening her tongue despite the fresh air.

trinity shrugged, "seemed rude not to. we've been living together for almost a month."

"living together" was a generous description for two people who existed in carefully orchestrated shifts to avoid meaningful interaction. malasia had moved to florida for a fresh start—new city, new people,

new malasia.

but so far, her fresh start consisted of zoom calls, takeout for one, and the occasional awkward nod to trinity in their shared hallway...

"well, h-happy birthday," malasia slurred and offered lamely, suddenly aware of how disheveled she must've looked.

trinity studied her for a moment, her expression unreadable in the dim light. "you know, you're nothing like my last roommate."

who? before malasia could ask, even though she could've cared less, jimmy and jey, jimmy's twin brother, busted outside, "damn, there y'all ass is. y'all wasn't gone say yall left out?" jimmy's voice boomed

"we just needed some air," trinity said, straightening her crown and immediately gravitating toward jimmy. his arm snaked around her waist possessively, but malasia couldn't help noticing how his eyes lingered on her—a fraction too long, a shade too...interested.

"you good, asia?" jimmy asked, his voice dropping an octave lower than when he'd addressed trinity. "looking a little unsteady on them heels."

"i'm fine," malasia managed, though the world still tilted slightly beneath her feet.

the tequila was playing tricks with her equilibrium, but she wasn't so drunk that she couldn't recognize the appreciative way jimmy's gaze traveled from her face down to her silver mini dress and back up again

jey cleared his throat. "yo, trin, that dj just announced they doing birthday shoutouts. you might wanna get back in there."

trinity's face lit up. "for real? hell yeah!" she tugged at jimmy's arm. "baby, come on."

but jimmy was still looking at malasia, that slow, deliberate smile spreading across his face—the same smile she'd seen three days ago when he'd "accidentally" brushed against her in the kitchen, his hand grazing the small of her back as he reached for a glass in the cabinet above her head. when he'd comment on her workout clothes as she passed through the living room.

"what about your roomie?" he asked, thumb brushing trinity's hip bone while his eyes remained fixed on malasia. "she don't look too good."

malasia swallowed hard. the way jimmy looked at her made her skin prickle with a confusing mixture of discomfort and something she refused to name. this was trinity's man—trinity who might not be her friend but who had still invited her tonight, who made coffee she could reheat, who had given her a place to live when she'd had nowhere else to go.

"nah—nah, i'm cool. i'm gonna just head back home." malasia had redirected the conversation back to trinity

trinity hesitated, clearly torn between her birthday spotlight inside and the roommate code she pretended not to care about. "you sure? we could all bounce if you're—"

"nah, baby, it's yo night," jimmy cut in, his voice smooth as butter. "i'll take her home. jey can stay with you, make sure you get all 'em birthday shoutouts."

"no no no," malasia quickly started, "i can call an uber or something. you should stay."

"it's cool," jimmy continued, already pulling his keys from his pocket. "i'll come right back. twenty minutes, tops."

malasia hesitated, her mind a fog of tequila and uncertainty. trinity's eyes narrowed slightly, but the pull of birthday attention was stronger than whatever suspicion flickered across her features.

"fine," trinity finally agreed. "but come right back, jimmy. it's my night." she pressed a quick kiss to his lips, her crown tilting precariously.

malasia gave trinity a small smile—part gratitude, part guilt—as jimmy's hand found the small of her back, guiding her toward the parking lot. she could feel the heat of his palm through the thin fabric of her dress, his fingers splayed wider than necessary.

"this way," jimmy said, his voice close to her ear. the parking lot was a maze of luxury cars and valet attendants rushing between them. jimmy's matte black g-wagon sat in a reserved spot near the entrance, gleaming under the streetlights like some predatory animal

he reached around her to open the passenger door, his chest pressing against her back for a moment longer than required. the leather seat was cool against her bare thighs as she slid in, suddenly aware of how high her silver mini dress had risen. she tugged at the hem, but the metallic fabric refused to cooperate, clinging to her skin.

jimmy walked around to the driver's side, his eyes never leaving her as he slid behind the wheel. the interior smelled of expensive cologne and new leather. he started the engine but didn't put the car in drive, instead turning toward her, one arm draped casually over the steering wheel.

"you good, ma? " his eyes traveled slowly from her face down to where her dress had ridden up again, exposing the smooth expanse of her thighs. "that dress straight fire on you."

malasia shifted uncomfortably. "thanks. can we just—i really need to get home."

he finally put the car in reverse, backing out of the space with one hand on the wheel, the other resting dangerously close to her knee. the music came on automatically—something slow and explicit that made the already small space feel even more intimate.

"you gotta man?" jimmy asked as they pulled onto the main road, the club's neon lights fading behind them. his question hung in the air between them, heavier than it had any right to be.

"no," she answered, then immediately regretted it. "i mean—i'm not looking for one either."

jimmy chuckled, a low sound that seemed to reverberate through the luxury car's interior. "everybody looking for something, asia." the way he said her nickname—drawing out the syllables—made her skin prickle, "good as you look? somebody fucked up."

at a red light, his eyes drifted to her legs again. "where's your dress from? it's cute, ma." his eyes flicked down to her thighs, his fingers tapped against the leather steering wheel in rhythm with the bass-heavy music.

"some boutique on lincoln road," she mumbled, tugging at the hem again. the dress had seemed perfect when she'd tried it on—sexy but not too revealing. now it felt like shrink wrap under jimmy's gaze.

"you must be making good money with them websites trinity says you design."

the mention of trinity's name sent a flush of guilt across malasia's face. trinity might have been just a roommate. but there was something about the way jimmy's eyes kept finding her in the dark that felt like a violation of something unspoken, something that existed beyond friendship. a roommate code. something.

trinity, who had invited her out tonight when she could have left her sitting alone in their apartment. trinity, who despite their careful dance of avoidance, had never been unkind.

"you quiet, ma," jimmy said, his voice cutting through her thoughts. "that tequila got you in yo feelin's or what?"

"just tired," she lied, pressing herself closer to the door.

her phone buzzed in her clutch. a text from her friend jade back in chicago: "how's the birthday party? meet any cute miami guys yet?" the irony made her stomach churn. or maybe that was the tequila. either way, she left the message unanswered, the blue light of her screen illuminating her guilty expression before she clicked it off.

they turned onto her street, the familiar row of low-rise apartment buildings coming into view. malasia had thought this place beautiful when she'd first arrived.

"i should go," malasia said, fumbling for the door handle. "thanks for the ride."

jimmy's laugh was low, teasingly. "damn, ma. i'm just being friendly. trinity told me you ain't got no friends down here yet."

boy, just go the fuck back to the club.

the observation stung with its accuracy. malasia had spent most of her first month in miami hunched over her laptop, building websites for clients who existed only as email addresses and zoom rectangles.

"i really need to go in," malasia repeated, reaching again for the door handle. this time jimmy pressed the unlock button, the doors clicking open.

she pushed the door open, grateful for the rush of humid night air that hit her face. standing proved more difficult than anticipated; the tequila had settled into her legs, turning them to rubber. her silver heels—borrowed from trinity, she realized with another stab of guilt—wobbled beneath her. the sidewalk tilted dangerously.

before she could stop herself, malasia stumbled, ankle twisting. she braced for impact with the concrete, but instead felt strong hands wrap around her waist, steadying her.

"i gotchu, ma. c'mon." jimmy's voice was close to her ear, his breath warm against her neck. his hands were firm on her waist, thumbs brushing against the exposed skin where her dress had ridden up. "let's get you inside, ight?"

malasia steadied herself, painfully aware of how their bodies fit together, of how trinity would see this if she were here. something about the way jimmy held her felt like a betrayal anyway.

"i can walk," she mumbled, pulling away slightly. but jimmy kept one arm firmly around her waist as they made their way to the building's entrance.

"this yo key?" he asked, plucking her clutch from her hands before she could protest. his fingers brushed against hers, the contact sending an unwelcome spark up her arm.

she watched as he rummaged through her things, finding her keys with unnecessary thoroughness. the elevator ride was seventeen seconds of exquisite torture. jimmy stood too close, his cologne filling the small space.

the apartment door clicked open under her key, the familiar darkness greeting malasia like an accomplice. the silence felt heavy compared to the pounding bass they'd left behind at the club.

"just need to get to my room," malasia said, attempting to disentangle herself from jimmy's grasp, but his arm remained firm around her waist.

"let me help you, ma. them shoes 'bout to be the death of yo ass."

finally breaking free of his hold. she kicked off trinity's silver heels, leaving them haphazardly by the door.

malasia made her way to the kitchen, desperate for water, for distance, for sobriety. the clock on the microwave read 1:37 AM—the green digits swimming before her eyes. she reached for a glass, her fingers trembling slightly.

"let me help you with that, ma." jimmy was suddenly behind her, his chest pressed against her back as he reached around her for the glass. his other hand settled on her hip, fingers splaying wide against the metallic fabric of her dress.

"i got it," she insisted, sliding sideways out of his grasp. "you should get back to trinity. her birthday and all."

jimmy leaned against the counter, watching her fill the glass with water.

"what's the rush? trinity got her whole squad there, her brother too. she cool." he stepped closer, taking the glass from her hand and setting it on the counter. "besides, i told her i'd make sure you got home safe. that's what i'm doing."

malasia took a step back. "well, i'm home now. safe and sound."

"you still looking wobbly to me." jimmy's voice dropped lower, feeling her out "might need to make sure you don't fall and hurt yourself."

"i'm good," she insisted, reaching for her water again. "really. you can tell trinity i made it fine."

jimmy chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. "you nervous, asia? don't be like that." his fingers brushed against her hand, attempting to grab it. "we both grown. ain't nothing wrong with two adults getting to know each other better."

"you should go, jimmy." she said, but the words lacked conviction. she knew it. she felt it/

"lemme ask you some, asia." jimmy replied, moving closer.

malasia gripped the counter behind her, the cool granite pressing into her lower back. the kitchen suddenly felt impossibly small, "trinity's your girl. she's back up the club and you need to leave and go back there."

"trinity's my girl, yeah." jimmy nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. "but that don't mean i can't appreciate what's standing right in front of me. do it?" his gaze traveled the length of her body, lingering on the curves the silver dress accentuated. "them little ass gym shorts? this little ass dress you got on...i peeped the way you kept tryna see if i was watchin'. you thought you was slick?"

malasia shook her head, trying to clear the fog of tequila and desire that clouded her judgment. she had to admit. when she first met jimmy, she couldn't deny he was sex on legs. but she buried those thoughts so deep out of respect for trinity.

"trinity—" malasia managed to whisper, but even her roommate's name sounded weak on her lips, a feeble protest against the tide rising between them.

"trinity ain't gotta know," jimmy murmured, his breath warm against her face. he was intoxicating in ways the liquor couldn't touch. "this just between us. just tonight."

she became aware at the touch of jimmy's hand coasting towards upwards. the dress slightly moving upwards bunching up on her waist. asia closed her eyes and leaned against his shoulder.

she'd been rushing to get ready and grabbed the dress at the last minute. it had a built-in slip that made underwear lines show, and she'd made a split-second decision that seemed harmless—

his foot kicked hers outwards, so his hand could drift between her thighs. she let out a small gasp as his hand covered her slicked pussy.

"that's why you was so careful sitting down," he murmured, his lips now close to her ear. "why you kept pulling at this dress all night."

she let out a small whimper, as his fingers circled over her clit. her body responded to his touch like an instrument perfectly tuned to his hands, each brush of his fingers drawing forth reactions she couldn't suppress.

"look at chu'" he whispered pressing kisses onto her neck, "soaking my fingers, while my girls out celebrating her birthday."

the mention of trinity should have been cold water, should have snapped her back to reality. instead, it added a forbidden edge that only heightened her response. jimmy's fingers circled her most sensitive spot, drawing forth a gasp she couldn't contain.

"jimmy," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the sound of their breathing. "we shouldn't—"

we should.

"but we are, mama," he replied, his voice husky with want. he withdrew his fingers, bringing them to his lips and tasting her essence, "goddamn, you taste good as you look. c'mere."

before she could protest further, jimmy bent slightly, wrapping his strong arms around her thighs and lifting her effortlessly. instinctively, her legs wrapped around his waist, the silver dress bunching completely at her hips now, exposing her to the cool air of the apartment and the heat of his body.

"which room is yours?" he asked, his eyes locked on hers, challenging her to stop this, knowing she wouldn't.

malasia hesitated, her last thread of resistance fraying dangerously. "second door on the right," she finally panted, the words feeling like both surrender and victory.

his hands gripped her ass, fingers digging into her flesh with a possessiveness that made her whimper into his mouth; his kisses where deep and consuming.

just like him.

her heart hammered against her ribs with anticipation, as he laid her down on the edge of the bed. her ass nearly just dangling off the edge. her silver dress now nothing more than a metallic band around her waist.

"tell me you whatchu want, mama." he demanded, his voice low and commanding as he unbuckled his belt. the sound of metal clinking sent a shiver down her spine. "say it loud. it's just us."

malasia swallowed hard, caught between desire and the image of trinity that floated at the edges of her consciousness.

trinity in her birthday crown. trinity who had invited her out tonight. trinity whose boyfriend was now standing between her spread legs.

jimmy leaned down, his weight pressing her into the mattress as he captured her mouth in another searing kiss.

when he pushed his pants down his hips, her breath caught audibly. he was magnificent—thick and long, already fully hard. pride gleamed in his eyes at her reaction, at the way her lips parted involuntarily.

he lowered himself between her thighs again, but instead of entering her, he took his length in his hand and began to slide it through her wetness. the sensation sent electric currents racing up her spine—the hot, hard length of him gliding against her pussy, coating himself in her arousal but never pushing inside.

she let out a loud moan, as the base of his dick rubbed against her clit. "fuck," she gasped, her hips rising instinctively to increase the pressure.

"ask me nicely, baby. tell me whatchu want me do, asia." he panted in her ear, pressing hot kisses against her collar bone.

trinity was a thought long gone. the guilt still present in her stomach was intense. she wanted to be rid of it. and jimmy. but how could she when he was laying on top of her about to stretch her right around his dick.

"please.." she finally managed, and regretfully. the words were barely audible.

"please what? hm? what is it?" jimmy pressed further onto her pussy,

"fuck! jimmy, fuck me! oh god—" she let out a gasp as jimmy slid all the way home, burying himself inside, his thick length stretching her in ways that made tears appear at the corner of her eyes. malasia arched beneath him, her body stretching to accommodate his size.

"goddamn," he hissed through clenched teeth, "you tight as fuck."

he established a rhythm that had her clutching at his shoulders, nails digging crescents into his skin.

each thrust drove her further up the bed until he wrapped his arms around her waist in a bearhug, pulling her back to the edge, keeping her exactly where he wanted her. his muscular forearms flexed beneath her, holding her in place as he drove into her relentlessly.

"that's right, mama. just lay back. you taking this dick so good, asia. so. fucking. good." each word was punctuated with a thrust that hit something deep inside her, something that made her curl her toes and arch her back.

her fingers tangled in his close-cropped hair, nails scraping against his scalp as she held on for dear life.

"jimmy," she gasped, as he hit a spot deep inside that made stars burst behind her eyelids. "oh my god—"

he shifted his grip, large hands sliding down to cup her ass, fingers digging into the thick soft flesh as he used the leverage to drive deeper into her pussy. obscene sounds of their sexing bouncing off the walls, sounded like a song.

it would go diamond if you heard it.

the silver dress was bunched uncomfortably between them now, the metallic fabric scratching against her sensitized skin. jimmy reached down, yanking it over her head in one fluid motion, tossing it carelessly to the floor. her breasts spilled free, nipples hardening instantly in the cool air of the room.

he moved his hands under her knees to push them against the bed. his eyes glued to the image of his dick pressed into her pussy.

she felt a fire building inside her belly. she should've pushed him away. make him go. but the adrenaline pumping in her veins made her lay back and moan his name.

"we shouldn't—" she tried again. wanting to convince herself this was wong...it was wrong. but her protest dissolved into a moan as he circled his hips, grinding against her in a way that made her thighs tremble.

"the way this pussy gripping me? lookin like you dont ever want me leave." he growled, tightening his grip on her ass.

malasia's head fell back, exposing her throat to his hungry mouth. he took advantage immediately, sucking at the sensitive skin beneath her jaw, surely leaving marks she'd have to hide tomorrow. the thought of trinity seeing them sent another conflicted wave of guilt and arousal through her.

jimmy must have seen the flicker of guilt cross her face because he leaned down, capturing her lips in a bruising kiss that drove all thoughts from her mind. he wrapped his arms around her in a tight bear hug, lifting her slightly off the bed. her breasts pressed against the hard plane of his clothed chest.

"don't think about her," he commanded against her mouth. "think about how good you feelin'."

to emphasize his point, he drove into her harder, deeper, the new angle making her cry out. her arms wound around his neck, fingers tangling in his close-cropped hair, holding on as he pounded into her. the room filled with the obscene sounds of skin slapping against skin, of her wetness accepting him over and over.

malasia couldn't form words, could only respond with desperate moans as pleasure built inside her. jimmy's hands slid down to cup her ass, fingers digging into the soft flesh, controlling her movements, forcing her to take every inch of him.

"this what you been needing, ain't it?" he panted, voice rough with exertion. "this why you been walking around half-naked. wanting me to see you. wanting me to fuck you just like this?"

"jimmy, i can't—i'm gonna—" her words faltered as pressure built low in her belly, a tightening coil of sensation threatening to snap. her pussy latching onto him like a deathtrap wetting him up

"hah, not yet," he commanded, suddenly slowing his pace to torturous, deliberate strokes. "look at me first. i wanna see your face when you cum on my dick."

she forced her heavy lids open, meeting his intense gaze. the raw desire she saw there nearly undid her—how long had it been since anyone had looked at her that way? like she was something to be devoured, something precious and rare?

"that's it. you feel that ma? wanna feel every inch of this pussy." he held himself above her now, arms braced on either side of her head, watching her face with an intensity that made her feel both seen and exposed.

malasia whimpered, her body trembling beneath him as he withdrew almost completely before sinking back in with excruciating slowness. the drag of him against her walls sent sparks shooting up her spine, each nerve ending screaming for more, faster, harder—but jimmy maintained that devastating pace, a half-smile playing at the corners of his mouth as he watched her squirm.

"touch y'self for me, baby. give her some attention. she deserves it."

she hesitated. a fleeting moment of shyness washing over her despite their current position. no one had ever asked her to do this—to participate in her own pleasure so explicitly, so visibly.

"don't get shy on me now, ma," he coaxed, his free hand guiding hers downward. "show me how you like it."

her fingers trembled as they slipped between their bodies, finding the slick swollen bundle of nerves where they were joined. the first circle of her fingertips made her gasp, electricity shooting up her spine. jimmy watched, transfixed, as she began to touch herself—hesitant at first, then with growing confidence as pleasure mounted.

"that's it," he encouraged, his voice dropping to a husky murmur. "just like that."

the dual sensation was overwhelming—his thick length stretching her while her own touch built a different kind of pressure. her eyes stayed locked to his, as her mouth formed an O shape. tears began to spill from her eyes as her thighs started to shake.

"whose making you feel this good? hm? whose fuckin you right now? you mines, aintchu?"

the possessiveness in his voice should have repelled her. instead, it sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through her veins, pooling low in her belly where he was buried deep inside her.

"you," she cried out, her nails digging crescents into his shoulders. "you are."

"nah. that ain't enough," slowing his pace to torturous, deliberate strokes that made her squirm beneath him. he slapped her hand away to rub her clit fiercely, "whose pussy is this?"

"it's yours," she sobbed, the guilty admission flooding her center, "'i'm yours, jimmy. please—i need to cum. please, please let me cum."

"that's right," his hips continues their merciless assault on her pussy, until she started to babble incoherently, "lemme feel it, baby. go ahead, pretty girl."

a triumphant smile spread across his face, predatory and satisfied. the pressure in her belly finally snapped in violent waves, flooding jimmy with her arousal. her muscled clenching as jimmy continued his relentless pace.

her vision blurred, pleasure radiating outward from her core in concentric circles that made her toes curl and her fingers twist in the sheets. she heard herself crying out—desperate, broken sounds she barely recognized as her own. her thighs quivered uncontrollably, her inner walls gripping him with each pulse of her release.

"fuck," Jimmy hissed, his rhythm faltering as her body squeezed him. "you feel so fucking good when you cum."

with a final, brutal thrust, jimmy buried himself to the hilt and let go. his rhythm faltering as her body milked him. his body went rigid above her, muscles tensing as he spilled himself inside her with a groan that seemed to emanate from the depths of his soul. she could feel each pulse of his release, hot and thick, filling her completely.

for several heartbeats, there was only the sound of their ragged breathing, the distant hum of the air conditioner, and the faint ticking of the clock on her nightstand. reality hovered at the edges of her consciousness, waiting to crash in.

and then it did.

the clock—3:27 AM. almost an hour and 30 minutes had passed. the tears came without warning, hot and shameful as they slid down her temples into her hair. jimmy lifted himself onto his elbows, looking down at her with an expression that shifted from post-coital satisfaction to something harder, more calculating.

"hey, hey," he whispered, brushing a tear away with his thumb. "c'mon. none of that. you aight, ok? we aight. relax, baby."

"oh god! what did i do, oh my god." malasia cried out into the air. his causal dismissal of her distress only made her tears flow faster, sobs echoing around the room before her hand could catch them.

"shh, these walls thin as hell," jimmy whispered, pressing a hand against her lips. His eyes, so full of desire moments ago, now held something else—more, "don't cry, ma. i gotchu, yea? you felt good? don't cry over some that felt good, ight?"

malasia's tears continued to flow silently beneath his palm. her chest heaved with the effort of containing her sobs, guilt and shame swirling together. jimmy removed his hand slowly, watching her carefully to ensure she wouldn't start wailing again.

she turned her face away, shame burning through her chest. "trinity—"

"don't think about that right now," jimmy interrupted, gently turning her face back toward him. his thumb traced the outline of her bottom lip. "just think about how nice it felt. how perfect we fit t'gether."

his words washed over her like a balm, soothing the ragged edges of her conscience. she wanted to believe him—that this hadn't been just a terrible mistake, a betrayal born from loneliness.

he withdrew from her body with careful movements, and she winced at the sudden emptiness, at the warm trickle of their combined fluids running down her thighs and onto the edge of her comforter.

"don't move," he stated before fixing himself up. she watched through tear-blurred vision as he tucked himself back into his pants and fixed his shirt. he turned to leave the room—more than likely to the bathroom.

jimmy returned with a warm, damp washcloth, kneeling beside the bed. he leaned down to flick his tongue inside her mouth, tasting her one last time, as the towel swiped against her tendered area. he cleaned their combined release from her inner thighs, from between her folds, his touch clinical yet somehow special.

jimmy's movements were practiced—too practiced, a distant part of her mind noted.

"lift up," he murmured, helping her sit upright on the edge of the bed. he moved off the bed towards her closet with a casual confidence; he knew she wouldn't question him or...this anymore.

at least for tonight.

he picked out a plain oversized shirt and a pair of panties to dress her in. he returned to her, bunching the fabric in his hands before easing it over her head. he guided her arms through the sleeves with surprising tenderness. the shirt fell to mid-thigh, covering her nakedness but not the memory of what they'd done.

he lifted one ankle, then the other, sliding the underwear over her feet, then up her calves, her knees. his fingers brushed against the tender skin of her inner thighs as he pulled the fabric higher.

"lift," he said again, and she raised her hips, allowing him to settle the cotton against her still-sensitive flesh.

when he finished, he remained kneeling between her legs, looking up at her with an expression she couldn't decipher. his hands rested on her knees, thumbs tracing small circles on her skin.

"you good?" he asked, his voice a low rumble in the quiet room.

malasia nodded, though she was anything but good. her body hummed with satisfied pleasure while her mind screamed with regret.

"lemme getchu' some water," jimmy said, rising from his position between her knees.

she watched him move through her darkened bedroom with the confidence of someone who belonged there—not a visitor, not an intruder, but someone claiming space.

when he returned, he cradled the back of her head like she was something fragile, something precious, as he held the glass to her lips. the water was cool against her throat, washing away the taste of tequila and regret. his thumb wiped away a droplet that escaped the corner of her mouth, then lingered there, tracing the outline of her bottom lip.

"you still crying?" he asked, his voice softer than she'd ever heard it. In the faint light filtering through her curtains, his eyes looked almost tender.

malasia shook her head, though she could still feel the dampness on her cheeks. "I'm just…" the words wouldn't come. how could she explain the hurricane inside her? the way her body still hummed with pleasure while her conscience screamed in protest?

jimmy set the glass down and took her face in both hands, his palms warm against her tear-stained cheeks, "you good. we good. this stays between us, yeah? our little secret. it's gone be trinity and me, but that don't mean it can't be me and you, too. ight?"

she was unable to form words around the lump in her throat.

how could she agree with his sick lullaby?

jimmy leaned in, his lips brushing against hers. despite every warning bell clanging in her mind, malasia found herself responding. the kiss deepened, his hand sliding from her chin to cradle the back of her neck, fingers tangling in her hair as she kissed him with just as much passion.

time seemed to stretch and compress simultaneously—the kiss could have lasted seconds or hours, malasia couldn't tell.

"i can't," she whispered, but even as she said it, her body betrayed her—leaning into his touch, craving more of the connection that had left her so thoroughly undone.

"you already did, mama." jimmy reminded her, his voice a silken caress. "and you liked it. you wanted it. we both wanted it and we both know that."

the moment felt like it should've belonged to lovers, not to whatever tangled, illicit thing they had just created.

"i gotta get back," he murmured, though he made no move to leave. his fingers traced idle patterns on the bare skin of her thigh where her oversized shirt had ridden up. "trinity's probably wondering where i'm at."

with me...

malasia nodded, but her hands betrayed her, fingers still clutching his shirt. the thought of him leaving—of being alone with what they'd done—sent a wave of panic through her chest. the room would feel too empty, too full of echoes and implications.

he gave her a small kiss, before turning to leave. after he closed her room door, she waited until she heard the front door lock before laying down and finally crying to herself. after what felt like hours, she lifted her phone to see another text from jade, and an instagram notification.

-

j.us.im has sent you a friend request.

j.us.im: she's staying with me t'night.

j.us.im: taking her to her girls place tomorrow.

j.us.im: can't stop thinking about you now ma. don't matter what you tell yoself.

j.us.im: you ain't going no where.

what did she get herself into?

heyyyy, everyoneeee.

this one????….its intense. it’s gonna be intense. 🙂‍↕️ i can’t get enough of a nice toxic trope. but dw. ill be continuing the valentines day writings still. so we’ll get some sweet-ish too😜.

i’ve been going crazy yall. college is draining me. but my spring break is upon us. so i’ll finally get a chance to relax.

tell me in the comments what you guys think !

🏷️: @lizes-posts @uceyliyahh @punksyeet @charmed-dreamssss @msbigredmachine @shes2real @prettyfilmz @caramelcleopatraa @harmshake @luvrsluxe @angiedawn02 @amandairene88 @cyberdejos2 @queeny23 @empressdede @trentybenty @heauxvibez @whatdoeseverybodywant @romansthrone @acknowledge-reigns @southerngirl41 @jaza23 @usoinked @fearlesschimera @holycollectivekitty @trippinsorrows

[meara-eldestofthemall]

Gee, thanks DC! You Just Turned Bruce Into An Irredeemable Ass.

So, at the end of Gotham War Bruce has officially lost everything. Alfred is still dead, Selina is "presumed dead" and Bruce is both financially and morally broke. Why, you may ask, is Bruce so much worse off this time? Let me count the ways.

He preformed a psychic lobotomy on Jason

The "it's for your own good" excuse only makes the mental rape undertaken by Jason's own father that much more heinous.

Just when you think Bruce can't sink any lower he does. When Dick recognizes that Bruce has lost it, he attempts to use a failsafe disconnect that Bruce himself built into the system. How does Nightwing get thanked for that? Well that brings us to number two on the list.

Batman attacks up his eldest son for doing what he's supposed to do when Batman has gone rouge.

Bruce beats him up because nothing proves you are in control of your sanity like hitting your children. While Dick is holding back, Bruce does no such thing. He hits Nightwing hard enough to send him flying. It could have gotten even worse if Tim hadn't shown up.

Tim arrives and attempts to talk some sense into Batman.

Tim tries to talk Bruce down. It doesn't go well. When Robin is trying to help, as he always does, Batman uses the attempt to reason with him to put the smack down on his son. Bruce could have killed Tim but apparently feels no remorse or guilt.

If there was any teeny tiny little doubt that Bruce will not win the Father of The Year award in 2023 it died a horrible screaming death when Batman abandons his children to potential arrest. Yes, he left a batarang for Dick and Tim but any glimer of possible hope associated with that action was instantly extinguished by Damian's reaction to Batman's callous betrayal.

Bruce abandons Damian.

Look at Dami; he's devastated. Since he came into Bruce's life, Damian has struggled with feelings that he can never earn his father's love and respect. Well, that negative self-image was reinforced in way that may never be repairable. Bruce just utterly destroyed a 13 year old child because of his inability to feel any kind of empathy.

And how does this all end? The best part is that Bruce takes all of his parental responsibilities and dumps them onto Dick.

Thank you Chip Zdarsky and Trini Howard. You've taken Batman from being an edgy anti-hero and made him into a callous monster. Part of me hopes that Bruce never comes back because he doesn't deserve his family.

The only positive aspect in this convoluted mess is that Damian and Tim will be far better off with Dick than with Bruce. Yes, Tim is mostly independent but he still needs guidance (particularly since Tim's first instinct is to try and save Bruce). Damian is essentially Dick's son emotionally anyway so this might help to sustain the positive character growth we've seen in him as of late.

The point of this rant is to wonder what on earth DC thinks they're doing. This story arc has been pure character destruction as far as Bruce is concerned. It's bad storytelling too; rushed, frenetic and massively disappointing.

Hasn't the popularity of Good Dad Bruce in Wayne Family Adventures proved that fans are tired of Bruce being a dark depressed and brooding edge lord? We all accept that Batman is a character with deeeeep issues who is in desperate need of therapy. I, however, draw the line at Bruce being an abusive a**hole.

In years to come when fans wonder when Batman jumped the shark, this is the plot line they'll point to.

[vermiciousyidreborn]

People like to talk about the lessons Jews should or did learn from the Holocaust, as though that's the only genocide we've been through. They like to say it should make us the nicest, kindest people because we've been through the worst so how could we ever inflict pain on others? How could we ever hold ourselves as more important to us than others, having seen the camps?

The thing is, we did learn a lesson. And it's a lesson we've been taught time and time again. That when it comes down to it, not only will non-Jews look the other way when Jews are slaughtered, they will gleefully participate and cheer it on. From Rome to the Crusades, to Spain, to Germany and all the places in between, we've learned that we're in this alone. We want to all be in this together, but everyone else has made it clear that that's never going to be the case.

So we know we're alone, that other than a very small minority, the only people who will ever object to Jews bieng murdered are other Jews. The Righteous Among the Nations are a tiny minority, and for every person who was a member, there are not hundreds who think they would have been. Some of them think they would have been and are celebrating the largest pogrom since WWII today. They're wrong, of course. If the Nazis came for the Jews, they'd do what they're doing: celebrate it.

Yes, we learned our lesson. We learned you all hate us, and Jewish existence has to be secured by Jews, no one else will do it for us or help us. This combined with our ancient longing to return to where we came from and created the modern state of Israel. Then there were more attempts to wipe out Jews, more attempts to drive us into the sea and destroy us, but this time, Jews took our future into our own hands and survived. Were there excesses? Yes. War crimes? Definitely. Have the past decades included missteps, crimes, and all sorts of horrible things? Yes.

But why would Israel do these things? Survival. Why has the war against Hamas in Gaza been so destructive? Why has it expanded to Yemen, to Lebanon, and potentially to Iran? Survival. In the end, Israel is a country with a single mandate written in stone: the Jewish people will live. And on October 7th, 2023, Hamas made it clear that whatever mellowing they'd appeared to do, whatever potential there had seemed for peace, Hamas finds that mandate to be intolerable. They believe the Jewish people must die. And then they killed as many as they could. Then the Houthis and Hezbollah joined in, firing rockets and drones.

If you're a country whose mandate is "the people of my country must survive" and with the historical understanding of "and no one will come to our aid if things get really serious" then what do you do? You, too, would view this struggle as existential. You, too, would likely accept casualties and destruction to try to root out the groups trying to wipe you off the face of the Earth. And you, too, wouldn't trust the people who seem weirdly obsessed with attacking the country that is going to extreme lengths to ensure that you survive.

What did the Jewish people learn from the Holocaust? We're alone. Help isn't coming. We have to deal with threats by ourselves. And that's why Gaza is in ruins, why Beirut is being bombed, and why Biden is trying to persude Netanyahu not to destroy Iran's oil refineries. And amid all this, you all are taking to the streets, calling for our deaths, and proving that those lessons were right, but might not have gone far enough.

[nellasbookplanet]

Book recs: the evil fungi did it

We all know of The Last of Us, but that franchise isn't the only example of fungal invasions. We've got zombies and apocalypses, we've got gothic horror, we've got fantasy, we've got romance, we've got space - no genre is safe from having their characters become the home of fungal organisms.

For more details on the books, continue under the readmore. Titles marked with * are my personal favorites. And as always, feel free to share your own recs in the notes!

If you want more book recs, check out my masterpost of rec lists!

The Girl with all the Gifts (The Girl with All the Gifts series) by M.R. Carey

Want another fungal zombie apocalypse? Then I come bearing great news! The Girl with All the Gifts is a post apocalyptic novel following a group of characters fleeing across an infested wasteland, trying to stay alive and hoping to find a cure. One of the characters is Melanie, a young girl who carries the contagion inside of her and hungers for flesh, but like many children of the apocalypse has kept her humanity. Is she and children like her the answer to the cure we are looking for? Or are they the start of something entirely new? This book has also been adapted as a movie!

Cold Storage by David Koepp*

Years ago, a quickly growing fungal organism capable of wiping out humanity came dangerously close to spreading. It was contained and kept in cold storage underneath a military repository. Since then, a larger storage facility has been built on top, the dangers on the lower floor being largely forgotten. That is, until it makes a new attempt at escape. Now, two unsuspecting security guards might be all that stands in the way of complete extermination. This book is both funny and genuine in its characters, and genuinely creepy in its portrayal of body horror.

Salvaged by Madeline Roux

Rosalyn Devar is on the run from her famous family, and has run so far she ended up in space. Now she works as a "space janitor", being sent off to clean up the remains of failed research expeditions. But in trying to cope with her problems, she has fucked up on her job multiple times, and is now close to losing her position. Her last chance is the Brigantine: a research vessel gone silent, all crew presumed dead. But when she arrives to salvage it, Rosalyn discovers the crew isn't as dead as presumed. But are they still human - and will Rosalyn be able to keep her own humanity?

The Annual Migration of Clouds by Premee Mohamed

Novella. Reid is a young woman living in a small community after a climate collapse. Resources are scarce, but Reid's biggest problem is Cad, a mind-altering fungal parasite that lives inside her body. When she is offered a rare chance at attending a far-away university in a secluded dome community, Reid must decide whether to leave or stay to help support her community.

Mexican Gothic by Silvia Moreno-Garcia*

Noemí Taboada is a glamorous and well-off young woman, but when she receives a frantic letter from her newly-wed cousin, Noemí must leave her glamorous life and travel to find out what is wrong. As she arrives at High Place, a mansion on the Mexican countryside, Noemí is met with mysteries and her cousin's new English family. As she tries to find out the truth behind High Place and its inhabitants, Noemí's only ally is the youngest son of the family. But will she be able to find out what so scared her cousin before it's too late for all of them?

Sorrowland by Rivers Solomon

A young pregnant woman flees a cult that left her body strange and changing in terrifying ways. Hiding from both a world wanting to oppress her and the cult seeking to force her back, she does her best to raise her children while trying to find out the truth of the cult and being pursued by a hunter in a dangerous game of cat and mouse. Bleak and scary, Sorrowland is a book that will creep under your skin with horrors both fantastical and very, very real.

What Moves the Dead (Sworn Soldier duology) by T. Kingfisher

Novella. Alex Easton, retired soldier, travels to visit their childhood friends, siblings Madeline and Roderick Usher, after finding out that Madeline is dying. In the siblings' rural, ancestral home, Madeline walks in her sleep and looks to be fading away, while around it wildlife seems to be possessed by a strange force. With the help of a mycologist and an American doctor, Alex attempts to save Madeline and reveal the truth of her illness.

Wanderers (Wanderers duology) by Chuck Wendig

A strange illness has struck the United States: with no warning, random people with seemingly no connection simply get up and start walking. They do not eat, do not sleep, do not communicate, and they do not stop - and if you try to force them, they literally explode from the inside. Teenaged Shana isn't one of these sleepwalkers, but her little sister is. Unwilling to leave her sister on her own, Shana accompanies the growing flock of walkers, protecting them as one of many "shepherds". And this protection proves necessary, as the sleepwalkers is only the first step toward what might very well be the extinction of the human race. An 800 page epic, Wanderers is a slowburn apocalypse story with a multitude pov characters and plot threads, from fungal pandemics and all-knowing AI to the all too real portrayal of radicalization and bigotry.

The Dawnhounds (The Endsong series) by Sascha Stronach

The Dawnhounds is a book where you just kind of have to let the story and the world wash over you. It skirts the line of scifi and fantasy, with a futuristic world of environmentally friendly mushroom houses and deadly fungi bio weapons next to literally god-given superpowers and near-immortality. It’s really cool and unlike anything else I’ve ever read, but also a bit confusing. Bonus: it’s also sapphic!

Agents of Dreamland (Tinfoil Dossier trilogy) by Caitlín R. Kiernan

Novella. A government agent known only as the Signalman; a cult preying on the young and vulnerable, promising to usher in a new age; a woman who exists outside of time, searching for a way to save humanity. Agents of Dreamland is short, but includes many spooky elements, among them an alien and possibly world-ending fungi. The narrative is non-linear and a bit strange, but also fascinating.

The Genius Plague by David Walton

Soon after landing his dream job at the NSA, things get weird for Neil Johns. His brother Paul, a mycologist, returns from a trip to the Amazon, carrying a nearly lethal fungal infection and a strangely sharpened mind. At work, Neil starts picking up mysterious messages originating out of South America, where cases similar to that of Paul starts occurring. And strangest of all: all the infected seem to be working towards the same goal. Recommended with the caveat that, while the fungal stuff is really cool, The Genius Plague is also happy to idolize American intelligent agencies and demonize environmentalism and anti-imperialism.

Little Mushroom: Judgement Day (Little Mushroom duology) by Shisi

An Zhe isn’t human. He’s a mushroom who absorbed the DNA of a dying man, allowing him to take on human guise and leave the wilderness. Entering one of the last human bases, a place struggling to keep out the mutated and dangerous creatures of the wilds, An Zhe must keep his identity secret as he searches for something which was taken from him. While not my cup of tea (frankly, I need more female characters), Little Mushroom is an undeniably unique m/m romance novel.

Bonus AKA these don't technically involve any fungi but have similar vibes of parasites and nature corrupting the human

Parasite (Parasitology trilogy) by Mira Grant*

In the near future, a great leap in medical science has improved human health by leaps and bounds: a genetically engineered tape worm. Within a few years, almost every human has their own personal parasite implanted. But now, something is happening to the parasites - they want more, whether their hosts want to share or not.

Annihilation (Southern Reach trilogy) by Jeff Vandermeer

For decades, Area X has been completely cut off from humanity. The only ones to enter are small organized expeditions, many of which never return, or return... wrong. We follow the latest expedition, its participants known only as the anthropologist, the psychologist, the surveyor, and our narrator, the biologist. As they enter into Area X to try to find out its secrets, only one thing is for sure: they will never be the same again.

Wilder Girls by Rory Power

Young adult. Over a year ago, the Raxter School for Girls was hit by the Tox, a strange disease that killed off many and left the survivors' bodies slowly changing in terrifying ways. The island the school is on has been in quarantine since then, and the girls dare not leave the school grounds lest they become victims of wild animals changed by the Tox. But as they wait for the promised cure, one of the girls goes missing, and her friends are willing to do anything to find her. Unsettling, spooky, and sapphic, this is a unique read featuring body horror and messy, dangerous girls.

(Second) Bonus AKA I haven't read these yet but they seem really cool

City of Saints and Madmen (Ambergris trilogy) by Jeff Vandermeer

Ambergris, a city created by a mushroom-like people, is now the home of humans, but the original inhabitants are still there, residing beneath the city.

Creatures of Want and Ruin (Diabolist's Library series) by Molly Tanzer

It’s the prohibition era, and while Ellie does fishing during the day, at night she bootlegs moonshine in Long Island. But unbeknownst to Ellie, some of the booze she smuggles has a strange source: distilled from mushrooms by a cult, it causes those who drink it to see terrible things, such as the the destruction of Long Island.

Bloom by Wil McCarthy

The inner solar system has been overtaken by fast-reproducing, fast-mutating technogenic life. Humanity has fled to the outer solar system, hiding beneath the ice of Jupiter's moon, but even here they aren't safe from possible incursion of mycospores, which lead to deadly blooms. Now a group of astronauts venture back to an infected Earth.

[rogue-durin-16]

HEAD-TO-HEAD (part XXV/?)

Summary: Joe thought she was pretty. Had he just said that, things might have been different for them. Maybe they wouldn't have gone head-to-head at each other for three years like it was a contest.

Pairing: Joseph Liebgott x Reader

Genre: angst/rivals to lovers

Tags:

Head-to-head: @derersketnoget @ladystardustfromarss @lanadelray1989 @chanshugsaretherapy @hoddystark @sxalbatf @jetjuliette @luvrottt @fromjupitertocentauri @ecompstolemysoul @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @bitter-post-millennial @gotxpenny @knight-of-thesun @scottstr3et @aliciax3

Band Of Brothers: @fernando-jpg @chubbypotatoepie @tvserie-s-world @clumsy-wonderland @lordndsaviorwinters @lanadelray1989 @chanshugsaretherapy @hoddystark @gotxpenny

Permanent taglist: @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @comfort-reads

Warnings: language, blood and gore

A/N: I cannot believe we've gotten this far, it's CRAZY. Dreading getting to the last part but I mean, it is what it is. Enjoy<3

Head-to-head masterlist

Band of Brothers masterlist

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

The laughter coming from Chuck's little story about Guarnere was still suspended in the chilly Zell am See night, when we spotted it.

"Chuck, look." I carefully nudged my friend's bicep, nodding toward the side of the road. Two parked vehicles—haphazard, with the lights still on— with a man standing between them, swaying just enough to set off a quiet alarm in us.

"I see it." Chuck's driving slowed down to a stop at a relatively safe distance, fingers drumming on the steering wheel. "You think he's hurt?"

"I think he's drunk." I muttered, eyes squinted at the lonely private.

"Shouldn't we go help him?" One of the new kids on Chuck squad, until now observant of both the eerie scene and his Sergeant's demeanor, suggested.

The blue eyed man puffed out a sigh, sparing me a sideways glance. "Bet now you regret tagging along."

"We'll see about that." I replied, one of my hands landing on the windshield's edge for leverage. I didn't even get to push up to my feet before Chuck stopped me.

"Wait here." Chuck muttered, already swinging a leg out of the jeep. His voice was purposeful and calm when he addressed the stranded soldier. "Hey, Mac. You need some help?"

A giggle. A slurred mumble I had to strain my ears to catch—something about a Major. Chuck stopped dead in his tracks.

"Shit," I breathed as my sight caught the body slumped near the curb, face-down in the gravel. Blood had already started to congeal beneath it.

"What do we do, Sarge?" one of the privates leaned in to whisper the question, voice tight with the nerves that came with witnessing a situation you weren't trained for.

"Stay put." I commanded, jumping off the jeep. My boots hit the ground with a thud as I moved in Chuck's direction. The man across from him was fumbling with his weapon, laughing to himself.

"Hold on—" The Sergeant's hand hovered near his pistol when the intoxicated private turned his back to him.

"Grant." I called, earning an instant-long look over his shoulder. Too late.

Bang!

"SARGE!"

"SERGEANT GRANT!"

I didn't feel myself lift my arm, didn't remember aiming—just the jerk of recoil and the split-second flash as I fired at the soldier now scrambling back into his vehicle. He ducked. Another shot rang out from his window.

Something slammed into the right side of my torso, knocking the air out of my lungs. Barely registered, though, because Chuck was lying there—no, not lying, crumpled—his head cracked open like a dropped melon, his brains scattered beneath him. I kneeled down on the grit, shaky palms shoving my gun back into my holster to hover uselessly over my friend's body.

Check the pulse. He's breathing.

"Help me—" my voice wavered, eyes still trained on Chuck's cracked skull. Stop. Try again. "Jesus Christ… help me move him! Now!"

Grant's squad rushed at my order, scrambling to lift the limp man up, trying not to wince at the sight. My breath hitched when we rose to our feet at the count of three.

With my heart pounding in my ears, we moved him to the back of the jeep, one of the privates reaching into the backseat for his first aid kit. I took on the task to wrap the unused dressing around Chuck's head when the young soldier's grip on it faltered.

This can't be happening, I thought to myself as I tightened the pearly white bandage. The war's over. This can't be happening.

"Someone radio the Captain."

"Sergeant Y/l/n—" another private, already climbing into the back of the vehicle, pointed his index at the burnt hole in my jacket.

"It's fine." I snapped, adrenaline drowning everything as I circled the jeep to jump on the driver's seat. "Get that fucking radio going right now."

The pain at my side throbbed beneath the rush; a warning light out of sight. I didn't check it until we were already tearing down the road, the wind stinging my eyes. My fingers touched the edge of my ribs and came back wet. Blood—warm, sticky, dark against my skin.

But I could breathe. I could move. I was upright. That meant it wasn't bad. That had to mean it wasn't bad.

The ride to the designated aid station was a blur of panic, shouts and stress; the privates were off the vehicle before I could kill the engine.

"What the hell happened?!" Talbert's voice hit me like a slap, him, Roe and Speirs barrelling out of a nearby parked automobile.

"Some drunk bastard—american—" I bit out the sudden wave of pain when I got out to help them out Chuck on a stretcher. "just... shooting people by the road."

"Are there more casualties?!"

"Two, I think. British Major and..." Focus. I blinked, rubbing my forehead. "I don't know. He fired at Grant, then bolted."

Talbert cursed, long and vicious, before shoving through the door the surgeon was leading the paratroopers through.

Speirs fell into step beside me, focused, jaw locked, eyes fixed on Grant but mind working elsewhere. I would've sworn I caught something similar to fear in the back of his dark gaze.

"You think you can identify the man?"

"Yes, Sir. I saw his face." I winced when I pressed at the ache curling hot in my ribs, almost subconsciously trying to make it stop. "I'll know him."

He slowed down and took a moment to scan me before motioning at my side. "What's that?"

"Just a scratch, Sir."

He didn't believe me—not fully, anyway—,but didn't press; we had more important matters to attend, like working against the clock to preserve the miracle of Chuck's heart still beating.

"Have Spina take a look back at the hotel."

"Will do, Captain." Lie number two. Speirs seemed to consider calling me out on it, but ended up turning to Floyd instead, spitting orders I only half caught.

"Y/n." Talbert tugged my arm. "We gotta go. C'mon."

I followed him back out of the aid station, into the night. My steps became slow—felt like it at least—right as we reached the jeep. The ride mushed the headlights, the nausea and the taste of copper in my mouth altogether until I wasn't sure what was real.

"We gotta wake up everybody. Take the first floor and go up," Talbert ordered when he pulled up at the hotel's entrance. "I'll take the fourth and down. I'll see you at the entryway."

"Got it." I muttered, seeing the noncom rushing in without waiting for me to fall into step.

I took a deep breath. Went in, dragging my boots over the polished floor. Wake them up. I pushed open the first door, triggering a wave of groans and sleepy complaints from the inside. "Up. Now. We got an emergency."

Another door.

"Move, come on."

A third one, a fourth, door to door without stopping. Quick. Wake them up. The stalking and spinning made me dizzy in a way that didn't feel right.

I got to the lounge room, where Luz and Perconte were playing cards on a misplaced table like it was just another Tuesday night at camp.

"Get up, we got an emergency."

Frank looked up, brows drawn. "You don't look right. Where you comin' from?"

"Night patrol. Chuck got shot." My voice cracked like it had run too far ahead of me. "gear up."

Luz dropped his cards and turned around with wide eyes, like he too couldn't catch up with reality. "Wait what?"

"I said gear up!"

I was about to head for the stairs when George's alarmed voice hit me like a whipcrack. "Wait—what the hell is that?!" The scrap of his chair hurt my ears, way too loud. "You're bleeding?!"

"What?"

"You're—" color drained from his face when his eyes dropped to the floor where I stood. "fuck, you're bleeding."

It fully hit me when I looked down. The right side of my jacket was soaked through, leaving my palm wet and crimson stained. A dark streak had bled all the way down my pants, dripping onto the floor. The temperature seemed to drop drastically, cold sinking its teeth in my bones.

"Oh." I said. It came out stupid. Small. I felt myself sway—or maybe the world had just tilted a little.

"Easy—easy!" Luz reached me first, forearms firm under my shoulders, lowering me fast to the floor. "Shit, you're gonna go into shock—Perco, get Spina!"

"I told her she didn't look right." Perconte insisted distressed, already running up the first flight of stairs.

Luz crouched beside me, voice soft now, "Stay with me, alright?" I nodded—or tried to—, gasping when he pressed a bundle of something against my side. "You're an idiot, you know that?"

The ceiling above me pulsed with a flickering light bulb, a shiver making my body tremble. "I'm fine." I mumbled, eyes trained on the mess of blood I hadn't acknowledged until now. "I'm fine."

JOE'S P. O. V.

I was halfway down the stairs when I heard it. Someone yelling for a medic. I could've sworn Tab said Chuck had been shot in the head. There was no way in hell they had dragged him all the way here.

Perconte ran past me with Spina trailing behind.

What the fuck.

My boots stuck slightly on the floor as I hit the landing—just enough resistance to make my stomach twist. When I checked it, I saw a smear. Dark red. Sloppy. A discontinuous line of uneven crimson droplets down the hall.

My chest tightened.

There were voices—shouted instructions, panicked mutters, heavy breathing—and when I turned the corner, I saw it.

She was slumped against the hallway's wall, puffing out short breaths, her forehead slick with sweat; just like she'd look back in Toccoa after those six miles—only that this time her cheeks weren't rosy, they were sheet-white.

Her jacket was unbuttoned, her shirt soaked with blood and pulled up by her left hand, which pressed the fabric hard over her ribcage, leaving a still fresh bullet wound exposed.

My legs threatened to give out from under me.

This wasn't happening. Not after that fight. Not after what I'd said.

I shouldered through someone—Ramirez maybe, I didn't care— to reach the scene. As if I could have done anything to help. I spared Malarkey a side glance. Despite standing right in front of her, his eyes were on anything but Y/n.

Spina was knelt by her side, working fast, muttering instructions that didn't reach me, yelling for Perconte to go grab something from his duffle bag. Luz, crouched down at her left with her blood on his fingertips, tried to make himself useful by listening carefully to what the medic had to say.

She looked up then, straight at me—or maybe past me, I couldn't tell. She surely didn't say my name. She didn't say anything. Just blinked, slow and purposeful like she was trying to keep herself awake.

My whole body felt like it was gonna split in half; something inside me was tearing at the already ragged seams and I didn't know how to hold it in.

She looked smaller like that. Folded in on herself, barely upright. The way her chest stuttered when she tried to inhale. We had seen men die that way, yet it had never felt like this.

Talbert appeared out of nowhere, reminding us why we were awake in the first place. "We gotta go," he said. "Chuck's barely got a pulse. If we don't find the shooter before he slips away—"

"I'm driving her to the aid station." I cut in, uninterested in whatever point my friend was driving up to.

"We just left the place." Talbert tried to reason, following a logic I didn't get. "There's a good-for-nothing surgeon and barely any supplies. Moving her would be—"

"She's not staying on the fucking floor."

"Lieb," Talbert stepped in close, jaw tight. "We need every man on this. I need you on this." A pause. He searched for understanding in my gaze. "You want to be on this."

"If not the aid station, at least a fucking hospital!" I snapped, panic and anger making my voice shake. "Jesus Christ, look at her!"

I felt it. A light kick to my boot.

When I looked down, her boot tapped mine again—weak, but deliberate, tethering me before I spiraled out of control and made everything worse.

"Stop yelling," she mumbled, barely above a whisper, "you're gonna give me a headache."

I stared blankly, wondering if I heard right. Her lips were dry, cracked slightly in the corner. There was a smear of blood near her cheek, like she had tucked her hair behind her ear. Despite her whole face going paper-white, her eyes were trying so goddamn hard to stay clear. To stay in it.

She was doing what she always did—pretend. Pretending she was fine when everything inside her was fraying; hiding the panic with that same deadpan calm she pulled when shit went sideways. Shoving the pain down, like she'd rather choke on it than admit something was deeply wrong. She was scared. Scared and stupid, but no one pointed it out.

"Go get that sonofabitch." she added, eyes flickering up to mine with a soft plea. "I'm fine." She didn't want me there, and that's what scared me the most.

"I got her. Alright? I'll stay." Luz shifted beside her, eyes wide but focused on us. "She's in Spina's hands. Good hands. Right, Y/n?"

She willed herself to nod, but it wasn't enough for me to move, so Malarkey grabbed my arm, as if he could shake some sense into me. "Joe for Christ's sake. C'mon."

I looked at her one last time and I hated myself more than I knew was possible, because I let Don pull me away.

Squads were sorted out in the blink of an eye, too quick for me to catch who was leading and who was covering which area before finding myself being led to a jeep with Malarkey and one of the witnesses.

The vehicle skid and rattled down the road, headlights barely piercing the mist curling over Zell am See. The engine hummed beneath us like a war drum, steady and loud. Not loud enough to drown out the ringing in my ears.

I couldn't shake off the image either. The blood. Her blood. On the floor, on Luz's hands, on her clothes. I hadn't realized I was gripping the metal of the jeep's frame until my fingers started to ache.

The kid in the back—Hendrix, I believed—looked like he had aged ten years in an hour. He hadn't said a word since we left the hotel. Just sat there, stiff-backed, staring dead ahead.

By the way the ginger was driving, hands white-knuckled on the wheel, I doubted his mind was any less messed up. He hadn't looked at me once since we pulled out.

"What is it?" His voice was forced, a mix of premature grief and bitterness brewing under the simple question.

I kept my eyes forward. "What's what."

"What the fuck is it with you and her?" He specified, louder, more strained.

I didn't find it in me to answer. If I even touched that question, everything would unravel, leaving me empty and reeling. But Don wasn't backing off; not now, when everything seemed a good reason to lash out.

"Look, I've seen some dumb friggin' things in this war," he went on, tone clipped. "But you two? It's like watching a match flirt with a gas tank." He huffed a laugh that was anything but amused, and I wondered how long had he been holding himself back. "You act like you can't stand her, then look at her like you—" His hand hit the steering wheel, making me flinch, eyes shutting momentarily at the violent move. "What the fuck are you doing with my friend?!"

Unspoken words knotted around my heart threatened to spill, each one more dangerous than the last.

I couldn't say I loved her. I couldn't say she meant something. Because if I said it aloud, the choking weight in my lungs—the one caused by the mere thought of the state in which we had left her—would kill me.

And because I couldn't say I loved her, I blurted out, "We're fucking."

The jeep swerved.

"Christ—" Malarkey looked over his shoulder at the private in the back, who was clearly trying not to exist. Smart kid. "Just fucking?" he hissed. "You're just fucking."

"You think this is the time to bring this shit up?" I snapped, voice sharp enough to cut steel.

"I wanna know if I gotta pull over and beat the shit out of you," he growled, "She switched places with Alley tonight. To go with Grant." My stomach dropped at the implication. "If she did that to avoid patrolling with you in the morning, because you're just fucking—"

"Shut the fuck up!" I barked, my voice turning high-pitched and cracking with guilt. "Okay?! Jesus fuckin'—"

Don't cry.

The kid in the back flinched.

Get a grip.

"You think I wanna talk about this now?!" I snarled, breath uneven. "I don't wanna fucking hear it, Don! Some asshole just blew my friend's brains out and the woman I—" don't. "—she's dying on that hotel floor!"

The silence that followed was cold and brutal. The word dying had slipped out of my obsessive thoughts. Now that was real, too.

"She's not dying." Malarkey said quietly. I clenched my lids shut in an attempt to stop the sting in the corner of my eyes from spilling. My jaw locked so tight it felt like my teeth might crack. "She's not dying, okay?" he repeated. "She's gonna be there when we get back."

But I was already mourning her. In some twisted, pathetic way, I was already carrying it. Because if we got back, and she was not there—

"Just fucking drive, alright?"

I tried not to hope. God knows I tried.

[avelera]

(Arcane Meta) Zaun Died with Silco

I want to open this by saying I understand people who are upset that there isn't more Piltover/Zaun conflict and resolution in S2 of Arcane. However, I'm going to argue here that the reason it's not in S2 after 2.03 is because the conflict is over. Piltover won. There is no more Zaun anymore as a potential political player and, ultimately, this comes back to haunt Piltover in their hour of need.

Overall, while I am invested in the Piltover/Zaun conflict, especially in S1, I'm less focused on Caitlyn and Vi's story which is our main lens for the conflict, or rather the end of the conflict, in S2. Still, I hope to offer my more Arcane worldbuilding-focused perspective. And just to get it out of the way, here are a few things I had trouble with:

I too was puzzled that anyone from the Undercity would join Piltover in the defense of the city.

I also thought it was strange to have Jayce focus on the threat that Viktor posed with his robots while soliciting help from the undercity, instead of on Ambessa, the more clear and understandable threat that would have made a better rallying point and allowed for a final discussion about the Noxian occupation of the undercity and how Noxus turning on Piltover was just them reaping what they sowed.

I was certainly taken aback when everyone was given Enforcer uniforms for the final fight.

That said, I believe there are answers to all three of these. From there, I want to dive into what exactly happened in S2 with Piltover vs. Zaun, to my eyes. Short version: there is no more "Zaun" as a potential nation or political player by 2.03 when the Chem Barons are taken out by Cait's forces, but it really died before that with Silco, who was already in a precarious negotiating situation himself and he knew it.

Very few people from the Undercity joined Piltover's defense of the city. Maybe a half dozen. I felt that was our moment of "you reap what you sow" for Piltover. A few passionate idealists who could see the bigger picture that saving Piltover does mean saving the undercity joined, but there were no hordes of volunteers. Piltover had lost the right to them and was substantially weakened for it.

Jayce choosing to focus on Viktor as the threat makes sense for him, but it was a poor political move and probably lost him volunteers he would have otherwise gained. The robot army threat is too esoteric and fantastical. "The Noxians turned on us and plan to conquer the city," is a threat that would have been better for rallying the troops, Jayce is just too single-minded to think of it. He's a bad politician.

The Enforcer uniforms are an odd sour note, but they do make sense as protective gear. Piltover doesn't have an army. There are no uniforms to give people. All they have is Enforcer uniforms. It is an odd note symbolically, but practically speaking it shows how little time Piltover had to prepare. Piltover is a civilian city going up against a military force like Noxus. They are woefully underprepared and really only have their status as defender in urban fighting to give them a prayer of even stalling the Noxian forces. Ironically, Piltover's only hope against Noxus mirrors Zaun's only hope against Piltover if they had gone to war: the difficult nature of urban fighting against an entrenched, motivated opponent on their home turf.

Now, to get into, "What happened to the overall Piltover vs. Zaun fight?" I get why people think it's lacking in S2, and I get why people find it horrifying that there is no independent Zaun at the end, all we've got is Sevika with one seat on the Council, as far as we can tell but I would point out:

Zaun is dead at this point. It's been dead since 2.03. Arguably, it really died with Silco.

As Jinx said, she didn't just destroy her own family, she cursed an entire society when she launched that rocket into the Council Chamber.

Here's the thing, Jayce was actually right when he said Zaun wouldn't stand a chance in an outright war with Piltover.

Yes, Zaun has a lot of brawlers. They have Shimmer and the Shimmer berserkers.

But Zaun doesn't have any sort of organized fighting force beyond the guards of individual Chem Barons and their factories.

What Zaun has is the fissures. It has ugly, difficult urban fighting in dangerous spaces. But as a counter to that, we have the fact that their ventilation is controlled from Piltover. In a true all-out war, Piltover could in theory just flush out the entire undercity using the Gray. Having your infrastructure entirely dependent on an enemy oppressor is what I would call a "fatal flaw" in any defensive military strategy, particularly when what they can cut off is the air you breathe. That's easily game over right there unless Silco has a way to circumvent that.

In a guerilla war, Zaun could probably hold out for a long, grinding, ugly civil war made up of mostly guerrilla attacks, in which a great number of innocent civilians will die, even in an all-out conflict with Piltover. But it would suffer catastrophic losses and probably still lose in the end.

Now, Jayce is I think somewhat naive in his claim Zaun doesn't stand a chance. Maybe Zaun wouldn't stand a chance in the long run, but they'd make Piltover pay for every inch with blood. They'd grind Piltover down into a shadow of its former self, force them to sacrifice all of their principles. To some extent, I think Jayce gets that, he gets that he doesn't want more kids to die, but I think even he underestimates just how ugly that war would be and how long it would go and how unrecognizable his Piltover would be by then.

The moment that gives Silco pause in Jayce's assessment of how easily Zaun would be crushed isn't the fighting. Silco is pretty confident that they could make Piltover pay and he's arguably looking forward to the chance on some level.

What gives him pause is when Jayce says the Council doesn't care.

To some extent, Silco like any revolutionary against an oppressive "civilized" society (heavy, heavy emphasis on the air quotes there) is that a certain point, Piltover is so soft-hearted they will get tired of the bloodshed.

What Jayce just told Silco is that the Council is more barbaric than even Silco maybe appreciated, for all their vaunted principles. There isn't necessarily a limit to how many Zaunite children will die before Piltover decides to cease hostilities. Knowing what Silco knows of Piltover's brutality, I think that is a sobering moment for Silco. That's when he decides this really is the best time to negotiate.

(Aside, this is by the way where Vi is wrong about Silco, driven by her emotions. Silco is willing to set aside the feud to get his nation of Zaun, he can be negotiated with. He's just not willing to give up his daughter (something Vi can't possibly understand at this point).)

Here's why it's the best time for Silco to negotiate and it ties into everything else:

Without Shimmer, which has been severely hampered by the raid on the factory, Zaun doesn't have anything to counter Hextech.

Jinx's wild attacks against Piltover has helped put the pressure on them that Silco capitalizes on. But it is a paper-thin threat. She is a lone albeit devastating terrorist. She makes Zaun appear more dangerous than it is but that can't last forever. Silco has leveraged her attacks into a pressure campaign against Piltover, but a serious response from Piltover (as seen in 2.03 with the strike team corners and very nearly captures her) could reveal just how fragile that threat is.

Basically, Zaun has some champions, arguably a league of legends lol, but it doesn't have an army. It doesn't even have Enforcers of its own. It doesn't have a concerted force of any kind.

The money is running out. As "Sucker" shows us in 2.02, each Chem Baron that gets taken out means less money on the table, and we're down 2 by the beginning of S2 with Silco and Finn, who arguably both fell to internal fighting.

As the Chem Barons say in 2.02, even if they got total unity in Zaun, they're outnumbered.

However, they don't have total unity in Zaun. They can't even get the Chem Barons to agree on what to do on one topic, with Jinx.

Silco basically has to accept the deal with Jayce when he does, while Zaun appears to be at its strongest. Because if he had waited any longer, the fact that they don't have the strength or money to back it up would have become apparent.

Furthermore, once Jayce resigns from the Council, which he was planning to do anyway regardless of Jinx's attack, would mean Zaun would lose its one champion with the political capital to give them independence. The window for Zaun independence is actually extremely narrow.

With Silco's death and Jinx's attack on the Council, then the subsequent eradication of the other Chem Barons, their resources, their money, including Shimmer which was the only thing Zaun really had to match them against Hextech in that arms race, there really isn't a Zaun anymore.

There's no one to negotiate with. No one to hand power to. No force that can govern itself. Zaun is completely fractured with the eradication of the Chem Barons. By taking them out, Cait removed the need for Piltover to negotiate with Zaun. And the reason Piltover chose not to was because of Jinx's rocket and then the attack on the memorial, which was orchestrated by Ambessa.

This is all according to Ambessa's design, by the way. She divides Piltover/Zaun against themselves by capitalizing on Jinx's attack. She leaves both severely weakened to make it easier for her to take over, and Piltover walks right into the trap. They would have fallen to Noxus if not for Mel's love of the city, even if you remove Viktor and Jayce's plotline entirely.

TL;DR Zaun is gone, guys. It's a distant dream. Sevika is the only person with an interest in making it happen anymore and she can't even get the Jinxers to listen to her. All the factions are easily arrested at the rally. Piltover has no reason to negotiate with any of these people. As the lone torchbearer for that cause, it makes sense for Sevika to be on the Council but beyond her, there is literally no one else to give a voice to (since Ekko doesn't appear to have an interest).

At least, until the Noxians turn on them, and then there's an interest in Piltover and the undercity joining forces, but as I referenced at the beginning of this, Piltover has now lost the right to the undercity's help AND lacks the undercity's resources too. Now Noxus has Shimmer instead of Piltover or Zaun, in addition to their sophisticated and expertly trained military force. As Jayce said, they were meant to lose this fight. Arguably, they never had a chance of winning if not for Mel claiming the loyalty of the Noxians in the wake of her mother's death and everything Jayce did to stop Viktor and the Hexcore.

[logan-but-not]

I've been replaying Deltarune recently and interacting with the fandom a lot more. And I've become quite fond of Krisuselle (a polyamorous ship including Kris, Susie, and Noelle). To the point where I think it might be one of my favorite ships of all time. And since I've apparently got nothing better to do. I figured, i'd write a post detailing what about it I and others find so appealing about it. Let's get started:

Right off the bat, one of the things that makes deltarune more appealing in a shipping sense to me is the cast. Nothing against Undertale, of course, it's got one of my favorite groups of characters in anything ever. Everyone is so charming, they're far more complex than at first glance, and they all have well written character arcs. Same goes for Deltarune. But the major thing that differentiates the two is that Deltarune is mostly compromised of kids. Teens yes, but still kids. Kids who aren't really sure who they are yet. Compared to Undertale, where pretty much everyone had at least a bit of understanding of their life, the cast of Deltarune is far more nebulous. They're emotional, immature, dependent, and act like how any other kid would. And then all of a sudden, they're thrusted into this huge adventure where they have to decide the fate of their world. It's a massive responsibility that flips their entire world view. But through that journey, they learn to mature, reconnect, and accept their roles or even defy them. And as someone who is still going through the transition from teenager to adult, I identify with these characters. The self-discovery of who you want to be and what you want to do is something that I, and a lot of others have gone through. And one of the aspects of that journey is love.

Which is why Kris, Susie, and Noelle appeal to me so much. With only two chapters worth of narrative, we've already seen so much of how their lives has been thrown into turmoil. Noelle lost her sister, Susie is implied to have a rough homelife, and Kris has lost literally lost their own will. And yet, despite that, they each have a deep affection for the others. And they come to discover that as they traverse the Dark World. And each of their individual relationships is so unqiue. To the point where I could write whole sections on them. Which I will now do.

Kris and Susie get off to rocky start. They're both put together not of their own volition to do something they never signed up for, figuertaively and literally. And at first, they're pretty antagonistic to each other, almost like rivals, and understandably so. They're both seen as the weird kid, freaks. They've been ostracized from the rest of the world for as long as they can remember.

But as they venture through the Dark World, the both of start to ease up. They learn more about each other and begin to finally start trusting one another. And as they do, they start to grow into the heroes the prophecy foretold them to be. And they both play off the other's strengths to make them into better characters.

Kris inspires Susie to finally let down her emotional walls and allow herself to trust, and use her fighting spirit in a constructive way rather than just break everything she sees.

Likewise, Susie helps Kris to learn how to be a leader, and she is the first legitimate social bond Kris has made since Asriel left. They both make each other better, stronger.

And that's another interesting thing about their relationship. They're not archetypal heroes. When they're thrust into this huge conflict where the two of them are supposed to be the heroes, they reject it. It's most notable with Susie, but Kris does too in subtler ways. And even when they do accept their roles, there's always this sense of rebellion in them. They will be the heroes of this story, but they refuse to let anyone write this story but themselves. Renegades.

Susie and Noelle, on the other hand, have a very different relationship. One that had hints as early as Chapter 1 but really started in 2. At first glance, it just seems like the whole lovesick girl and oblivious crush stereotype (but gay so it's infinitely better). But like almost everything from Toby Fox, appearances may be deceiving. What makes their relationship so fascinating is why Susie and Noelle have affection for each other.

For Noelle, she's drawn to Susie because of her free spirited and rebellious nature. She's not afraid to break the rules or take a stand for what she thinks is right. It's such a contrast from Noelle where she's expected to be this perfect girl who does as she's told, is the top of her class, and knows how to take care of herself on her own. And we can see that she clearly can't always handle it, especially considering her past. In a frightening world where Noelle has lost the biggest crutch of her life, Dess, Susie represents everything that Noelle thinks she needs. Someone to help save this poor Lost Girl.

Susie, meanwhile, is drawn to Noelle because she was the one person who never hated her. Everyone in her life seemed to always be against her, so she lashed out, which did nothing but isolate her more. She had to learn how to fend for herself. At least, that's what she thinks to herself. But throughout it all, Noelle never hated her. By her own admission, Noelle would see the aggression and callousness from Susie and just offer a kind smile in return. And Susie always appreciated that.

The two represent what the other needs on an emotional level. Someone to help Noelle step out of her comfort zone, learn to actually live her life, and find the courage to stand up for herself. Someone that Susie can finally let her guard down around and accept genuine compassion and acceptance from, in a way that only Noelle can provide. And the thing is, neither of them had the courage to actually act on their feeling until they got wrapped up the Dark World. And it's not because they weren't aware. Susie may be a bit dense, but she's not oblivious. No, it goes deeper than that. They don't act on their feelings because neither Noelle nor Susie think that the other would feel the same. Noelle thinks that Susie would never like some random deer girl like her. And Susie struggles to believe that ANYONE would really like her in that way. They're two star-crossed lovers that will be forever stuck in this limbo of mutual pining until one of them finally gets the courage to confess.

But my personal favorite relationship is Kris and Noelle. Unlike with Susie, who's kinda seen as the new girl in town, Noelle and Kris have a VAST implied history. They were extremely close in their childhood. They lived next door to each other, their elder siblings were best friends, their families were intertwined, and by all accounts, they seemed to be happy. Everything from the overworld to the cyber city to the newsletters shows us that Kris and Noelle were once the closest of friends.

But then, something happened, something likely related to Noelle's sister Dess. I touched on her a bit in my Suselle section, but it really does seem like Dess was Noelle's anchor. She protected her, encouraged her, stood up for her, everything an older sister should do. And then, something happened to her. The details are a little unclear, but whatever exactly transpired caused Dess to go missing. And it's clear that this broke Noelle, which caused her and Kris to split up a bit. They were still friends, but they had to grow up without each other. It only got worse when Asriel left for University and Kris lost their will.

But then, the Dark World happened. And Kris and Noelle started to reconnect in their journey. And along the way, maybe uncover some new affection for the other. They're reminded of their time together when they were kids, when everything was so simple. When they both had someone who could comfort them. But things are different now, but that doesn't mean they can't still be friends. And maybe they don't need to face their struggles alone anymore. And that's what I love so much about these two. It's such a tender and soft relationship. There's never any big romantic display. They don't need it. They show their affection in more sublte ways.

Like when Noelle feels reassured when Kris says that they're friends. When she reminisces about their childhood toghether in the city. How she feels sorry for Kris for getting hurt by Susie. And how she is the only one to notice something is wrong with Kris on the Weird Route and how she vows to help them. Noelle has been estranged from Kris for so long that she thinks that the two of them can never be close again. But seeing Kris trying to reach back out to her makes her realize that they still are friends.

Kris also shows a lot of affection for Noelle as well. They encourage her to make a move on Susie because they know she has a crush on her. They constantly play pranks on her. They would play piano for Noelle when they were young. They make sure to look after her after Rudy asked. They get upset when we bully her at the laser gate. And they try to fight against our control in the Snowgrave route at every turn. Kris doesn't want to lose the last remnant of their childhood. The one friend they always had, no matter what.

And this relationship gets even more interesting when you consider how it diverges in the Weird Route. Because it only works because Noelle trusts Kris. We, the player, are using Kris as a pawn to force Noelle to commit horrible acts and even willingly put herself in harms way. Noelle has to try and convince herself that her lifelong friend isn't really making her kill people, including her friend. And Kris has no choice but to go along with it, despite clearly never wanting this. Nothing more than a puppet on our strings. And that's not even getting into the marital themes where Kris and Noelle are forced into symbolically archetypal husband and wife roles, respectively. It's honestly crazy how simultaneously similar and different the two outcomes are. Instead of the both of them reconnecting naturally over nostalgia and a shared adventure, they're forced apart even further apart by a new outside force. And yet, this strengthens their resolve to help the other. The same two friends, but twisted and warped into something so disturbing and sadistic.

Kris and Noelle's relationship is so rich with personal history and buried feelings that it's honestly almost overwhelming. There's so much nuance and ambiguity that it can be interpreted as romantic or platonic as you prefer. And yet it's so different from the other two relationships or really any relationship that Toby has ever wrote. They're two childhood friends who drifted apart over some traumatizing event, who both began to reconnect through a shared adventure and maybe discover something even deeper. It's one of my favorite aspects of Deltarune as a whole if I'm being honest.

And honestly, I could say that for all three of the relationships. Each one individually on it's own is so enveloping and has so much potential. But when the three are together, they just feel... complete. Kris and Susie, rivals turned to comrades. Susie and Noelle, a blossoming star-crossed romance. Noelle and Kris, long-lost childhood friends who thaw out their frozen hearts. Everyone of those dynamics bounces off of each other so well. And here's the other thing, no ever comes off as a third wheel. Kris acts as a wingman (wingthem?) for susie and Noelle, actively encouraging them to interact and open up. Susie is the catalyst that leads Noelle and Kris to reconnect and looks out for the both of them, making sure they're both safe and happy. And Noelle acts as a comfort to both Susie and Kris, allowing them to open up around her, and she's content to let them be the heroes of her story. They're all just kids who love each other.

And I think that's why this ship appeals to me so much. Because despite all the supernatural and mystical elements of Deltarune's story. The relationships of these three are really grounded. Toby Fox managed to write an incredibly endearing, and incredibly realistic portrayal of teenage love. Because that's what they are, teenagers. They may be emotional, they may make mistakes, they may become distant and closed off, they may be scared of what the world has in store for them. But they can still grow. They don't need to take on the world by themselves, They can learn to let out their emotions and be who they want to be. They can still learn to feel love. Whether it's for your partner in crime or the girl next door, your oblivious crush or your old best friend, your sister in arms or your childhood sweetheart. You can always find love. And there will always be those who can help you along the way.

And I think that's a really profound message.

[pedroscurls]

training partners (pt. 16)

summary: an article comes out about you and your relationship with hugh while he's away and you know just exactly who it was. pairing: hugh jackman x fem!reader warnings: reader's insecurities come back, brief mention of physical abuse (not with hugh!), mention of age gap, implied age gap (hugh is 55, reader is in late 20s-early 30s), no use of y/n. word count: 2.8k a/n: so... jack is back y'all and we've got a few more parts left of this story, so stay tuned! as always, this is purely fictional! i mean no disrespect to hugh jackman. prev part. - next part.

Hugh’s been gone for a couple of weeks now and you both manage to create a routine to speak with each other every day, depending on the time zone that he’s in. He continues to send you photos of where he’s been, wishing that you were with him, but despite the distance, it never does feel like he’s away. Hugh makes sure that you know that you’re his priority and you never have to second guess what he’s doing or where he’s at because he’s always communicating with you.

You’ll send him a text every morning you wake up, counting down the days until he gets home. You spend most of your time either editing, at a photoshoot, or working out with your personal trainer. It helps to keep yourself busy because the home you now share with Hugh is just too big for you alone. You miss his presence, miss his touch, falling asleep and waking up in his arms. 

You miss him. 

Today, though, you have nothing planned and you know Hugh has a day off from press so you decide to give him a call through FaceTime. He’s in Brazil, which just happens to be only two hours ahead. Dialing his number, you’re sitting out on the balcony, eating your dinner while watching the sun set. This still doesn’t feel real, like one day you’re going to wake up and realize it was all just a dream. 

You hear his voice and then look down to see him through your phone, your entire face lighting up at the sight of him. You prop your phone against your water bottle and take another bite of pasta as you bring a leg up on the seat. 

“Hey, baby,” he says with a smile. “Whatcha eating?” 

“Made some pasta,” you answer, showing him your bowl. “Eating out on the balcony, watching the sunset. Wish you were here though.” 

“I know,” Hugh sighs. “Wish I was there too. Just two more weeks, baby, then I’ll be home.”

You nod and then set your fork down, turning your entire attention on the man through your screen. “Just two more weeks,” you repeat. “How’s it going so far?”

“It’s been so much fun,” he answers. “Ryan likes to bring you up in every conversation we have almost daily,” Hugh chuckles. “Says you should be here with us, with me… and I agree with him.”

You laugh quietly and shake your head. “We both know that if you had it your way, I’d have gone with you.”

“Well…” Hugh smiles, leaning back against the bed that he’s lying on. “I did say you should come with me.”

“You know, usually the honeymoon phases out by now…” you tease. “I think you’re obsessed with me, Hugh Jackman.” 

He laughs quietly, turning to lie on his side instead as he keeps the phone facing him. He is so enamored with you, that even through a simple FaceTime call, he can feel the amount of love he has for you. You’re so beautiful, the sunset casting a glow around you. 

“Oh, I’m obsessed with you, huh?” 

“Oh yeah,” you grin. “What is it about me, hm?” 

“Everything,” he answers honestly. “I can’t just pick one thing, baby.” 

You feel the heat rise in your cheeks as you wrap an arm around your leg and rest your chin on your knee. “Still the smooth talker, I see.” 

Hugh rolls his eyes playfully. “I’m just tellin’ the truth.”

“I love you,” you blurt out instead.

His eyes light up – he’d never get tired of hearing you say those words. “I love you too, baby.”

“You know, the house feels so empty without you,” you admit. “I don’t know how you lived here all by yourself.”

“It was hard,” Hugh answers. “Kept myself busy most of the time, but you– you’ve made it a home. A place where I want to spend most of my days at, as long as you’re there.” 

“When you say things like that, it makes me want to kiss you. So, what am I supposed to do if you aren’t here?” you smile. 

“Use your imagination,” he teases. 

“Ah, so I guess I’ll just have to entertain myself.”

Hugh’s gaze darkens as he shakes his head. “Don’t you dare tease me.”

“Or what? You’re not here,” you grin mischievously, pulling your lower lip between your teeth. 

“Guess you’ll find out when I get home then, won’t you?” 

“Fine,” you huff. “My fingers and toy aren’t the same anyway.” 

“Y–You have a toy?” 

You giggle. “Actually bought one a couple of days ago. Figured we could try it out together when you get back.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you grin excitedly. 

Hugh groans. “Two more weeks… just two more weeks.” 

You laugh to yourself and then tilt your head, eyes staring at the screen. You wish you could reach out to him, to feel his strong arms around you. “Got a full day of interviews tomorrow?” 

Hugh nods. “Yeah, but you know I’ll make time to give you a call.”

“I know, Hugh,” you smile. “But it’s fine if you don’t, you know. I know you’re busy and–”

“You know I can’t go a day without talking to you, baby,” Hugh interrupts. “I’m never too busy for you.” 

“I know, I just–” you sigh. “Just don’t want you to feel like you have to talk to me if you’re tired.”

“Never,” he answers. “Never too tired to talk to you. I’m already miserable without you here. If I don’t get to talk to you every day, I think I’d lose my mind.” 

“Okay, Hugh,” you nod. “My perfect man.”

He chuckles and rolls his eyes. “Hopefully only perfect for you.” 

“Oh, I think you’re it,” you admit with a smile. 

“Yeah?” he grins. “You mean that?” 

“Oh yeah,” you nod. “So don’t go and break my heart, okay?”

“I don’t ever plan to, baby,” he answers. “Because I think you’re it for me too.”

“Yeah, I wish you were here,” you sigh. “This would be a perfect moment to kiss you.”

Hugh chuckles. “I love you, baby.”

“I love you too. Just two more weeks,” you repeat. “Then you’re all mine.”

“Oh, I can’t wait. We’re not leaving the house for a week, at least,” he winks.

“What did you have in mind we do for an entire week?” you ask innocently. 

“I think it’d be better to show you when I get back,” he grins. 

“Well, I can’t wait,” you smile. “You should probably get some rest, Hugh. I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”

Hugh nods. “Yes, baby. I’ll give you a call tomorrow. I love you.”

“I love you too. Good night, Hugh.”

“Night, baby. Sweet dreams.” 

“I’ll be dreaming of you,” you wink.

“Good because I’ll be dreaming of you too.”

—

A week later, you’re sitting on the bed re-reading the story about your relationship with Hugh in a well-known online published article. You can feel tears stinging your eyes, can feel your hands tremble as you read every single untrue word.

They call you a gold digger due to the age gap. 

They say that you’re too ugly to be with someone like Hugh. 

They say that Hugh’s only having fun with you. 

That the relationship isn’t serious. 

That you’re not enough. 

That he’s going to realize that he deserves better than a nobody like you. 

And the words stay with you because it all sounds so familiar. You’ve heard it before and there’s a dreadful feeling in the pit of your stomach when you realize who might be behind this article. 

An article that’s now gaining more and more traction. You shouldn’t have googled Hugh’s name because all you can see in the search results are different variations of the same article. With your name plastered all over. 

You’re only with him for his money. 

The age gap is too ridiculous and Hugh’s just messing around after his divorce. 

You’re not enough. 

You’re not enough. 

You’re not enough. 

You finally toss your phone aside and curl into the sheets, eyes staring out the large window. You’ve never felt more alone than you did now. You can hear your phone ringing but you don’t bother trying to answer it; you just want to disappear and you certainly can’t call Hugh. 

You can’t tell him; he’s already got other things to worry about. 

Your tears trickle down your cheeks and stain your pillow as your breathing picks up. The article brings up a lot of feelings that you’ve tried so hard to work through because you know who’s behind it. 

Jack.

It’s always going to be Jack. He just can’t leave you alone. Despite him being the one to end the relationship and the one who has verbally and physically abused you, he’s still acting like you’re the one who hurt him. 

It just seems like he can’t let you go, like he still has to have some control over you. 

Your phone goes off again and you turn around to grab it, seeing Hugh’s contact on your screen. You don’t answer, afraid that he’s going to tell that something’s wrong so instead, you send him a quick text to let him know that you’re busy editing and that you’d call him back once you’re finished. 

It’s a lie and you hate lying to him, but you can’t tell him the truth. You can’t tell him that there’s rumors about you, about your relationship with him and how you want (and need) him so badly to be here. 

He reads your message, but instead of sending a reply, he just calls you again. You don’t answer, letting it go straight to voicemail. He doesn’t leave a message, but you see that he’s begun typing – the three dots appearing on your text thread with him. 

Four simple words. He texts four simple words that make your heart ache even more: You’re lying. Call me. 

With a heavy sigh, you wipe your tears away and then begin to dial his number. It barely rings once before he answers the phone, his voice immediately coming on the other end of the speaker.  

“You saw it,” he says. 

“Yeah.” You don’t need him to clarify what he’s referring to because you know exactly what he’s talking about. 

“I know you’re not okay, so don’t tell me that you are.” 

“Well, what else am I supposed to say, Hugh?” 

“The truth,” he answers. 

“What good will that do? You’re not here.” 

You hear him sigh. His voice sounds tired. “Baby, please. Just–”

“It was Jack,” you interrupt. 

“What?” 

“The article. It was Jack. It’s gotta be.” Your voice trembles. “I’ll be fine and–”

“I’m coming home,” Hugh says. 

“You have one more week left of press.”

“I don’t care. You matter more. I’m coming home,” he repeats. 

“Hugh–”

“No,” he interrupts. “Don’t defend him again. You shouldn’t even be defending him.” 

“I’m not.”

“Then tell me what’s on your mind!” He raises his voice and your eyes fall shut, gripping the phone close to your ear. You know that he’s frustrated at being so far from you, for allowing you to deal with this all by yourself. He should be there with you. He needs to be there with you. “I’m sorry, baby. I just– Fuck, I feel helpless here.” 

“Well, I’m feeling helpless too,” you admit. “That article… Those rumors, maybe some of them are true. Maybe you do deserve better than me.” 

“Stop.” Hugh sighs. “You know that’s not true.” 

“You’re you and I’m just… I’m just me.” 

You can hear ruffling on the other end of the phone and when he goes to speak again, his voice sounds more distant, like he’s not holding the phone directly to his ear anymore. “I’m coming home. I already told Ryan and Shawn.” 

“Hugh,” you sigh. “Baby, please.” 

“No,” he says. “Don’t you think that article hurts me too?”

“B– Because of your reputation? Because of what it says about you?” 

“No,” he sighs. “Because of what it says about you. It’s not fucking true. None of it is, and it hurts me because I know that it’s hurting you. So, yes, I’m coming home so that I can be there with you.”  

You don’t answer because you finally feel yourself begin to break down. You put the phone on speaker and set it aside, burying your face into your hands as you let out an inaudible sob. 

“Baby?”

“Don’t come home,” you finally answer. “Let me– Let me handle this on my own. Let me work through this on my own. Please, Hugh.” 

“Baby,” Hugh sighs. “I can’t–”

“Hugh, I need to do this for myself. Please, can you do that for me?” 

“I don’t want to,” he answers. 

“I know, but you need to.” 

“I can hear you crying, baby.” 

“It just hurts. All of it, but I can do this,” you sniffle. You want so badly to just feel his arms around you. 

Hugh sighs in defeat. “I love you,” he whispers quietly. “So much, okay?” 

“I know,” you answer with a slightly trembling voice. “I know you do.”

“I won’t come home today, but I will be home by the end of the week. Can we come to that compromise?” 

“Yeah,” you answer. “I think that’s okay.” 

“You know you’re the best person I’ve ever met, right?” Hugh asks. “You’re kind, thoughtful, considerate… so passionate and I love everything about you. Flaws and all.” 

“Even when I get into my own head and–”

“Yes,” he interrupts. “And I wish that you can see what I see in you, what everyone sees in you.” 

You shut your eyes and imagine him there with you, arms wrapped around your frame, lips near your ear as he whispers. You lie on your side and wrap the sheets further around your frame as you keep the phone on speaker. 

“I’m sorry I’m broken…”

“Baby,” he sighs. “You’re not broken, and you shouldn’t be apologizing. Someone who you trusted, who you loved, hurt you over and over again. He manipulated you, took advantage of you and–” he has to stop himself from talking because he can feel himself getting angrier and angrier. “Jack never deserved your love. He never deserved you.” 

“Hugh…” you whisper. “I love you.” His words awakens something inside of you, something that you never thought existed. You thought you had done a lot of reflection on your relationship with Jack, but you never looked at it from your perspective in this way. You always wondered what you could have done differently, what you could have changed about yourself that it wasn’t until you met Hugh that you realized the issue was never you. 

It was Jack. 

And it will always be Jack. 

“I’ll be home soon, okay?” Hugh sighs. “I love you, baby.”

“I love you too, Hugh,” you sigh. “More than you ever know.” 

“I’m one lucky man, I’ll tell you.” He replies. 

You bite your lower lip and take your phone off speaker to bring it close to your ear instead. “I’ll call you later?” You ask. 

“Yeah, baby. I’ll be here.” 

“Got another full day of press?”

He sighs. “I have time for you. Always will.” 

“You sure?” 

“Positive, baby.” 

—

For the rest of the day, you steer clear from your phone and laptop. The only time you’d reach for it is to respond to a text from Hugh or from your trainer. You distract yourself by watching movies, but even in the living room, you’re missing Hugh’s presence. 

The movies only do so much for so long when your mind begins to drift to Jack. For the longest time, you’ve tried so hard to ignore it, to just move on without ever reflecting on just how toxic that relationship was for you. It was easier to just forget, but when he decided to force himself back into your life, you realized just how many unresolved emotions lay dormant. 

You can still vividly feel his fist connecting with your cheek, can feel his entire body weight behind the punch. You should have left him then, shouldn’t have even let it go that far, and you wished you had a good enough reason why you didn’t leave. 

Part of it was because Jack had made you believe that no one would ever want you if you did decide to leave on your own… and he would tell you how worthless you were over and over and over again to a point that you started to believe it. 

But him ending the relationship had been the one of the best things to ever happen to you. You know that you still have so much to work through, but you’re no longer the same woman you were when you were still with Jack. 

You try to remind yourself of that. Jack doesn’t have authority over you anymore (and he never should have). He never should have laid his hands on you. Never should have repeatedly put you down with his words. 

And you’re tired of letting him get away with it. You’re tired of letting him win.

---

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[mirai-e-jump]

Uchusen Vol.188 (Spring 2025) Kamen Rider Gavv | Detail of Heroes ft. Main Cast & Director Interviews (other pages and translations below)

Publication: April 1, 2025

Chinen Hidekazu x Hino Yusuke

"Half a year has gone by since the program started, but have there been any changes in your surroundings over the course of filming so far?"

Chinen: People rarely called out to me on the street when the show first started airing, but recently, I've had people at the location sites react with, "Ah, it's Shouma!," and children will give me their drawings of Gavv as gifts. It got me to realize that tons of children are watching Gavv.

Hino: I'm glad that you've been working so hard. Everyone's looking at Hide……

Chinen: That goes for Yusuke-kun too!! (laughs).

Hino: No, when we were previously filming at the river, we waved back at a father and his child who were waving at us from the opposite side and saying, "Ah! It's Gavv!" Then, the father kept saying, "He's so cute~"……he wasn't looking at me (laughs).

Chinen: That's not true! He probably didn't realize it was you due to the distance between us (laughs).

Hino: I guess you're right! It's thanks to that costume that he forgot it was me! (laughs).

Chinen: The first time I could really feel the reaction of the fans was on February 5 at the "Super Hero Festival"!

Hino: Right! From adults to children, it made me happy that so many people were cheering us on.

Chinen: Many of them came dressed as Shouma. Both men and women. I thought that Kamen Rider fans were mostly made up of men, but I was surprised and happy to see that there were "so many women as well!"

"Please tell us your first impressions of each other, as well as your current impressions."

Hino: When I first met Hide, I got the impression that he had a puppy like cuteness to him, but after overcoming numerous obstacles over the course of filming so far, he's become more reliable. He used to be the "cute junior" who would ask me various questions, but now I feel like we're rivals who compete with each other in a mutual way. Also, given that we always spend alot of time together, even if we don't exchange words, I've started to tell if he's "doing well today," or if he "didn't get enough sleep today." Although, the way we screw around becomes more intense the closer we get to each other (laughs).

Chinen: Yusuke-kun has a longer career as an actor than I do, so I've been following by his example since filming began. He consults with me after the daily shoot, and has taught me so many things. And then recently, I've gradually come to understand more about acting, and we've been able to discuss the production and my way of thinking as an actor. Previously, all I could do was run after him, but now I feel that we're rivals who inspire each other and can run together.

"Chinen-san also played the role of Dark Shouma, but how was it playing a double role?"

Chinen: Being able to try out a different acting style from that of the usual Shouma was a valuable opportunity, so I prepared a "dark notebook" to write in for the role of Dark Shouma. I went into filming with that same amount of enthusiasm, but because both my performance and post recording time was now doubled, my tiredness came out more easily. However, with the help of Yusuke-kun and the rest of the cast, and with Director Tasaki giving me alot of advice for his first appearance in episode 21, I was able to perform the role without issue. Still, everyone said to me, "You're acting more lively than Shouma normally is" (laughs).

Hino: Hide had just gotten used to playing the role of Shouma, so I envied him since he was able to approach his performance from a different perspective. Even when transforming into Bitter Gavv, he created the role with sparkling eyes by saying stuff like, "What if I stick out my tongue here?," and it looked like he was having fun.

Chinen: When you play a role that's so close to your actual self, you lose sight of the boundaries between yourself and the role. With that being the case, it was very refreshing to play a role in which I ran away without paying for hot oden and beat up the old lady who ran the dagashi shop.

Hino: Yeah? So uh, which role is closer to you? (laughs).

Chinen: You oughta know!! (laughs). I was able to do bad things in my performance that I'd normally never do, so I was eager to create the role. Still, even though Shouma beats up Dark Shouma, those he harmed and the people who were in the area still leave with a bad impression of Shouma. It broke my heart to think that Shouma was creating a difficult situation for people to be in.

"We think that Hanto also had a difficult time dealing with emotional highs and lows, as shocking facts kept being revealed one after another."

Hino: I could feel the Planning and Scriptwriting team's strong determination of, "This is the kind of position Hanto's in" (laughs). After learning that Shouma's part of the Stomach Family, I thought that he was able to reconcile with him, but soon after, he learns about his mother's final moments, and then he learned the truth that his mentour's death had been arranged by Suga……it was like being hit with flurry of punches. Shouma's the only one he can talk to about Granutes from another Kamen Rider's perspective, so if he left him, Hanto would be all alone, wouldn't he? And when that happens, the only person he can count on is Suga, and yet Suga had him wrapped around his finger. While Hanto took an incredible amount of mental damage from that, it was so rewarding for me as an actor.

Chinen: In episode 22, he settles things with Hanto, but right after that in the beginning of episode 23, he rejects him by saying, "I can't deal with you." I could comprehend the story, but it was difficult for me as Shouma to create the flow in which Hanto's feelings would be properly connected to it.

Hino: When Hanto found out that Shouma was part of the Stomach Family, he fell into a mixed feeling of sadness and rage that Shouma had hidden the truth from him, and then there was the confusion and conflicting feelings he had about their friendship up to that point. I prepared with incredible enthusiasm to express this. Still, while deep down in his heart he was expecting for his mother to still be alive, when he was told about his mother's final moments, he came to learn that her encounter with Shouma is what led to her death. I was in a complicated situation, because if I let my emotions explode right then and there, he'd be blaming Shouma, so I had to suppress my emotions. That's why instead of using my performance skills, I just went with the flow and let things naturally take over from there.

"With the addition of their ally Lakia, has there been any change in your teamwork?"

Chinen: Kohei-kun looks cool, but he's a passionate man full of love and who values communication. That's why with Kohei-kun's arrival, everyone has more time to get together.

Hino: We didn't have much time to go out to eat together before Kohei-kun came along. But now the four of us, which includes Sachika, go out to eat together, as well as spend our private time together.

Chinen: Honestly speaking, I was worried that Shouma and Gavv would be overshadowed by Lakia's Kohei-kun, as he already had a year of experience in "Mashin Sentai Kiramager." Kohei-kun is cool and Lakia's character is appealing.

Hino: Vram is also really cool.

Chinen: Vram's first appearance in episode 17 was so cool, that it made me nervous, but in any case, Lakia is appealing.

Hino: There's no doubt that he's cool. However, as Kamen Riders facing the same enemy, I was worried when I simply wondered, "Can they really become friends when he beat the shit out of Hanto?" For Hanto, he's the same species as his mother and mentour's killers, and unlike Shouma, Lakia himself has no feelings for humans. I can't imagine how the relationship between these two will develop.

Chinen: Lakia's not the most social either.

Hino: Lakia's personality change and Hanto's growth will likely cause a sense of friendship to blossom.

"As a result, Shouma had to tell everyone his secret, but were there any changes in your performance compared to when you were hiding it?"

Chinen: I was hoping you'd ask me that! (laughs). Up until now, the level of secrecy would be different depending on the person I was working with, so it'd be like, "I want to keep this secret from Hanto, I've already told this much to Lakia, and this is a secret from Sachika-san." That's why I had to write out these situations in the script as I performed in order to keep them organized. So, I'm relieved that he was able to tell everyone the truth (laughs). Especially since he was able to reveal his secret to Sachika-san, Hapipare really became a place for Shouma to belong, and I think it helped him to feel secure within the story.

Hino: Having a place to return to is nice, isn't it?

"Both Gavv and Valen have appeared in numerous forms, but please tell us your favorite forms for each other's Riders, not your own."

Chinen: It would have to be Valen's Frappe Custom. The Gochizou that Hanto had been using until then had to be given to him by Shouma or made by Suga-san. However, the Frappeis Gochizou is one created just for Hanto. The Gochizou itself has a unique design that's divided into a top and bottom section, with each having a cute name, that being "Frappe Ichirou" and "Frappe Jirou." All the Gochizou-chan are like Shouma's children, but they're special children that he gives to Hanto as presents after overcoming various obstacles.

Hino: The scene where Valen's mark was engraved on it was great.

Chinen: Now that he's powered up, Valen can finally stand on his own (laughs).

Hino: The situation hasn't changed though, as Shouma still had to give him the Gochizou (laughs). I like Gavv's CaKing form. It's the first "Gochizou that doesn't disappear even if it's used," but that's because it's a "handmade sweet created with someone else in mind." I think it's great that those feelings became a special power, as it makes it seem heroic. Also, it's interesting that the Whipped Soldiers come out, as now we can do action scenes with multiple people. The Rider Kick making candles appear is also cool.

Chinen: CaKing form's cape is cool.

Hino: The cape is cool! It's so unfair! Next time, birth a Gochizou for Valen that'll give him a cape too! (laughs).

"Do you have any episodes that have been most memorable so far?"

Hino: It was really tough filming episode 24, where I was covered in ink. My costume was also inked, so it was a one take situation, and I couldn't even go to the bathroom during the shoot in order to avoid getting ink on the set and equipment. In a physical sense, it was the harshest part of the shoot.

Chinen: It's episode 24 for me too. Shouma, who had been weak up until then, recovered with the ice cream Sachika-san gave him, but I personally have a strong emotional attachment to the situation because it was mentally difficult for me to reconcile with Hanto.

"Finally, please give a message to all the Gavv fans."

Hino: From now on, Shouma, Hanto, and Lakia will work together to face the increasingly intense battles against the Stomach Family. As for Hanto, one highlight will be his "battle to protect humans" as a Kamen Rider, where he'll draw upon the bonds he established in the first half of the series. I look forward to your support until the end!

Chinen: After this, Gavv will enter a new chapter, with new enemies and a more expansive story. Not only Shouma's team, but the circumstances of the Stomach Family will also be explored, so please pay attention to that. The foreshadowing that Komura Sensei has been carefully scattering will gradually be brought to light, but even we don't know what will happen in the end either. Everyone, please look forward to future developments! _

Asanuma Shintaro

"Please tell us the details of how you became involved in this work."

Asanuma: I received an offer from Toei. To be honest, I had previously received an offer for the Kamen Rider series, but I wasn't able to appear due to my schedule. I wanted to appear in the series by any means, including as a revenge for that time, so I'm glad that it came to fruition.

"Your image is different from when you voiced Juran in "Kikai Sentai Zenkaiger," so some tokusatsu fans were probably surprised."

Asanuma: Normally, whether I'm a Voice Actor or actor, I usually perform my roles with the consciousness of not making the viewer feel that I'm "Asanuma Shintaro" as much as possible. Ideally, I'd like for people to notice that it's me for the first time during the end credits. As someone who originally came to Tokyo to become a film Director, I'm very happy to be able to spend all my time on the set of the drama, rather than in the usual post recording studio.

"What's your impression of the Kamen Rider series?"

Asanuma: I watched "Kamen Rider (Skyrider)" and "Kamen Rider Super-1" as they aired when I was a child. I also watched "Space Sheriff Gavan" and "Dai Sentai GoggleV," but the tokusatsu heroes that I was particularly engrossed with were from the Kamen Rider series.

"Do you have any special memories?"

Asanuma: It's a shame to say this, as I've had regular appearances in Super Sentai and Ultraman, but the heroes I have a particularly strong attachment to are Kamen Riders. I lost my father when I was four years old, but I still have a cassette tape with his and my voice on it from when he was still alive. In those days, video cameras had yet to become a commodity in most households, so the only memories I have of my father are in photographs and on that cassette tape. On side A of the cassette, there's the voice of my father reading the Kamen Rider manga to me and my older sister. It was the original manga drawn by Ishinomori Shotaro Sensei, so I think it was alittle difficult for me to understand at the time (laughs). And then, side B has the sounds of my father and I playing Kamen Rider. That's why Kamen Rider is an important connection between me and my father, and an indispensable part of my life.

"We heard that you also did hero shows. Did you ever perform as a Kamen Rider?"

Asanuma: After serving as grunts and monsters, my first time performing in a hero suit was for MammothRanger in the "Kyoryu Sentai Zyuranger" show, and from there, I played Kamen Rider V3, Stronger, and Black RX, just to name a few. When it came to the shows, they were gorgeous, in part because they used original stories, but there were also joint performances with senior Riders and Super Sentai, which wasn't common at the time. After that in 2000, I created and directed a performance called "Zipper!," which was a hero show about what they do behind the scenes, but in order to familiarize the performers to the world of the show, I was assisted through the cooperation of a show team that I had previously worked with. Since I referred to them at the time (laughs), I participated with them and played the role of Kuuga. I also participated in the show when they revived "Zipper!" in 2003, playing the role of Faiz.

"We'd like to ask you about Kamen Rider Gavv this time. What were your first impressions when you heard about the setting and worldview of this work?"

Asanuma: I was particularly surprised that it was a "sweets Kamen Rider." I've been surprised by Rider designs in the past, but I never thought I'd be surprised by the motif. Then again, I was also incredibly surprised when fruit was used in "Kamen Rider Gaim" (laughs). I thought, "What kind of substance would come from a sweets motif?," but there were many aspects that reminded me of Showa era Riders, such as "leaving while concealing his name and true identity," "being perceived as a monster," and "becoming a hero after being remodified." It also made me happy that the secondary Rider wears leather and has the occupation of a "reporter." It was also an honor for me to be the one in charge of his remodification surgery. That's why when I heard that Suga was going to transform, I started imagining things like, "He's a scientist, so maybe he'll become the Reiwa version of Ika Devil?" (laughs).

"But instead of becoming a monster, he transformed into a Kamen Rider."

Asanuma: The only thing I could say was, "Alright!" (laughs). When filming started, I never heard anything about me transforming into a Kamen Rider. However, I was told by one of the staff members that, "If you keep saying that you want to transform, it could happen." So, I was absurdly honest and kept saying it, and then my wish came true (laughs). While I might have been too greedy, I really wanted to become a popcorn Rider! My first photo book was titled "POPCORN," and I said to myself, "If I'm going to transform, I have to become a popcorn Rider!" I can talk about this now, but the reason Suga would snap his fingers every now and again was my way of adlibbing the impression that "it's bursting like popcorn." In the end, I was told, "A Popcorn Gochizou will appear, but it won't be used for transforming" (laughs).

"You put in alot of painful effort before you transformed into a Kamen Rider, huh? (laughs)."

Asanuma: Incidentally, when Hanto returns to the lab after making up his mind to undergo the remodification surgery in episode 6, I was eating peanuts, which was also me adlibbing. I used the peanuts that were served on set to express Suga's sense of composure that "he'll come back soon enough," and his lack of humanity, as he's carelessly eating during a serious scene. Actually, it may have also come from some expectation that I'd "transform into a Rider with a nut themed sweet……" (laughs).

"What was it like filming the transformation scene?"

Asanuma: One thing I was particular about wasn't the pose, but the way "Henshin" was said. It was a very relaxed and unserious way of saying it, that being, "What was it again? Ah, that's right. Henshin." What I envisioned was a system where the Bakemagnum is activated through the input of a vocal keyword at the end like, "I said it because I had to say it." "Henshin" is a very important word for Kamen Riders, and I think it's one that even evil Riders cherish. However, the man called Suga would never cherish it (laughs). For Suga, the use of his transformation item and the way he says "Henshin" isn't a cool signature phrase, but are instead just "a part of the process." Therefore, I thought about how much I could do to create a transformation that would be unsuitable for NichiAsa. When I demonstrated it in front of the Producer, he said, "Uwah, that's scary," so I felt that this was the right thing to do.

"To begin with, how did you prepare for the role of Suga?"

Asanuma: I expanded upon the image I got from the script and added things like, "He can't take a hint." Suga isn't a "suspicious monster," but rather a "freak with significantly low interest regarding people." For example, when Hanto tells him that his mother was kidnapped in episode 4, before he empathizes with his painful situation, he's more interested in the fact that she was taken alive and not as a Human Press. He's lacking sensibility, and he couldn't help but quickly ask, "That was how many years ago?" without lowering the tone of his voice. I'm conscious of making him the kind of "guy you don't want to open up to as much as possible." Out of all the characters in Gavv, I think he's by far the least trusted by the viewers (laughs).

"Did the Directors or staff give you any orders for the creation of your role?"

Asanuma: One day, I found a note tucked inside the script explaining Suga's past and background. It was by Scriptwriter Komura-san, and she wrote about how Suga isn't simply just a mad scientist and why he's so obsessed with Hanto. However, I was given this just before filming of episode 27. I was shocked and was like, "Is now the time for this?!" (laughs). That said, I also felt that the image of Suga that I had created up to this point wasn't wrong, so even if I had received the note earlier, I don't think it would've made much difference. Sadly, Suga was defeated, so I don't know if the contents of the note will be depicted in a future work, but I hope it'll be revealed in something like a spin off.

"Did you have meetings with Bake's Suit Actor Kitamura Kai-san?"

Asanuma: I have a mutual acquaintance with Kai-san, so I greeted him and we exchanged LINES when he was playing Otake (the Mushroom Granute) in episodes 5 and 6. Before filming for Bake, I gave him a voice message saying, "This is how I'd read this line," and he would listen to it and perform the post transformation version of it. Therefore, I have the impression that the two of us created Bake's performance together. Also, we both have similar heights and are left handed. I was surprised by this wonderful coincidence, and at the same time, I was excited to think that he'd be able to naturally portray my transformed self.

"Asanuma-san, you've appeared many times as a Voice Actor in tokusatsu productions, but how was post recording for Gavv?"

Asanuma: I didn't think that Suga was the kind of guy who'd go, "Hah!" or "Oriya!," so even during battle, I would say rough, casual lines like, "How about this?" or "Let's stop doing that. It's unsightly~." I was just talking the whole time. Hide and Yusuke, who were watching, were shocked and said, "It's okay to record so liberally?!" I panicked and said, "No, no, this is because it's Suga! You guys aren't allowed to imitate me!" (laughs).

"We've been asking everyone involved with Gavv, but what's Asanuma-san's favorite sweet?"

Asanuma: I like anything, but I think I eat snack (crispy) items most often. By the way, Bake uses a chocolate chip cookie Gochizou, but an anime I appeared in not that long ago called "Promise of Wizard" collaborated with "Aunt Stella's Cookies" and ran a campaign in which the characters from the anime refer to their favorite cookies. At that time, I played the character Owen, and he recommended their chocolate chip cookies. For almost four months now, I've been thinking, "I want to tell everyone about this coincidence!" I finally got my chance to tell you about it (laughs).

"Finally, please give a message to our readers."

Asanuma: Will Nyelv-kun read it?

"No, direct it towards our readers (laughs)."

Asanuma: Ah, sorry (laughs)……To be honest, I'd like to use this opportunity to apologize. Up until now, I've been asked many times by friends and the other actors around me, "Will Suga transform?" We weren't at the stage yet where I could talk about it, so I kept saying, "I can't, I can't. I'm doing my best not to make my exit."…….Everyone, forgive me! I did transform!……Hah~ I feel relieved! Finally, I'm free now (laughs). And then, to all the fans who support Shouma and Hanto and their friends. I'm truly sorry for making you feel uneasy up until now……or maybe, thank you if you did feel uneasy. Kenzo Suga's role was to stir up Gavv's story, so it'd make me happy if you've been watching Suga with that feeling in mind. Now that the selfish, psycho, and annoying being that was Suga has been defeated, who will your fear and anger be directed towards now? How about Nyelv-kun? Nyelv-kun! You'll have to take care of the rest! (laughs). It wasn't quite the image of Kamen Rider that I had envisioned from my childhood, but I'm proud that I was able to leave my mark on the show. I'd like to go to my father's grave and report this to him. I'll say, "I know it's different from what you remember, but I transformed into a Kamen Rider." _

Action Director Fujita Satoshi

"You've worked as a performer in many productions up until now, but what made you decide to become an Action Director?"

Fujita: I'm short, and when I first started working in this field, I was told by those around me that "it'd be difficult to continue working as an action actor when I'm this short, and that I should consider a different career path." That's why I started helping Watanabe Jun-san, who also went from being a performer to an Action Director with "Kamen Rider Zero-One," and starting around "Saber," I helped edit video storyboards (storyboards made with moving pictures), and from there, my vision for being an Action Director grew. After that, Producer Minato, who's also a close friend of mine, hired me as the Action Director for "Kamen Rider Outsiders," and that came to be the stepping stone for where I am now. The presence of Director Nakazawa and Producer Takebe, who selected me as the Action Director for "Kamen Rider Geats" TV series, was also very important.

"What exactly does the job of an Action Director entail?"

Fujita: In some cases, I'll think about the direction, and once I've thought about it, I'll go as far as to say, "I'll request a crane on this day, and will arrange the amount of people needed to assist the action staff on that day." It feels like I spend more time on paperwork. However, maybe it's just the way I spend my time. Director Kamihoriuchi has an incredibly sophisticated way of doing things, and he manages to do them skilfully and smoothly. I'd like to learn from him. Looking back on it now, I've loved music videos since I was a teenager, so when I was listening to the music, I'd think about the shots and direction in my head. So, maybe I had the desire to become a Director even back then. I still have a desire to shoot music videos, and perhaps that's connected to the fact that I tend to create catchy scenes when I'm filming action.

"Please tell us how you became the Action Director for the final episode of "Kamen Rider Revice."

Fujita: Sites like "Wikipedia" say that I worked with Jun-san as an Action Director for the final episode of Revice, but in reality, I only directed the scene where Kan Hideyoshi-kun from Geats appears. All he did was encounter and speak with Igarashi Ikki in front of the bathhouse, so I didn't really do that much as an Action Director.

"So Geats was your debut as an Action Director for a TV series. Now then, how did you get the offer for Gavv?"

Fujita: I was approached by Producer Takebe, who had also helped me with Geats. At that point, it was packed with tons of original ideas, and I personally felt that it was really interesting. Once the script's setting and plot were completed, I was surprised to find that despite its poppin appearance, the details of the story were very harsh. Shouma's life growing up is also quite tragic.

"What do you keep in mind when filming this work?"

Fujita: This isn't just for Gavv, but I'm always conscious of creating actions based on a person's background and personality, rather than the impression I get from their appearance. That's why I wanted to forget about Gavv's heroic design for a moment, and instead create a wild stance and fighting style for him that reflects his origins where "a Granute is a monster." I discussed this with Gavv's Suit Actor Nawata Yuya-san, and we came up with the style you see now. We of course didn't disregard the design, rather, we calculated the advantages of "the gap between that design and the wild actions."

"How did you think of Valen's actions so that they'd be in contrast to the wild Gavv?"

Fujita: At first, I imagined Valen as a cool character, but when I read the scripts for episodes 5 and 6, in which he fights an enemy as a Kamen Rider for the first time, I got the impression that he was more desperate to bear his fangs than be cool. Director Morota agreed with me on this. Also, unlike how Shouma's from the Granute world, Hanto was just an ordinary human before he underwent the remodification surgery, right? Based on this, I decided to create a character who'd be loved by the viewers for being "not super strong," but "passionate and reliable."

"It was shocking to see Valen get crushed by Glotta in his second appearance."

Fujita: I was also shocked and said, "How can he get the shit kicked out of him during his second battle?!" (laughs). However, Director Sugihara wanted to make Glotta an overwhelmingly strong character, so I understood, thinking, "If that's the case, then it's alright for Valen to suffer." Still, in episodes 7 and 8, Valen's Suit Actor Kaji also did jumping scenes, and Valen had many cool stunt like highlights, which made him really cool.

"What about Vram, the tertiary Kamen Rider?"

Fujita: I also discussed with Suit Actor Eitoku-san on how to express the character who comes after the wild Gavv and the passionate Valen. In fact, Gavv's "wildness" and Valen's "passionate ruggedness" are similar in some ways, so we decided on a "downer but cool type," as it was an attribute that neither Rider had. At first, I thought of him using a fighting style called "pudding kenpo," in which the Rider is always shaking while fighting, as it would take advantage of the "pudding Rider" and "jellyfish motif the Granute transforms from" setup. I came up with various ideas and also created video storyboards, but in the end, they were rejected (laughs). The only thing that remained was the "knee sliding into a yankii sitting pose" scene, which was used to agitate Valen. That was a move that I had been cooking up since the beginning. As a result, I decided on his fighting style by expanding upon that move.

"Please tell us about their opponent, Kamen Rider Bitter Gavv."

Fujita: Bitter Gavv wasn't that strong when he first appeared, as he leaves the scene after Vram puts enough pressure on him. Nevertheless, I thought about adding in a variety of fun elements. When I think up actions, I try to include elements that'll make people "want to imitate them." Therefore, Bitter Gavv was given a distinctive stance, and I also included the scenes where his joints dislocate during battle. If those who watch the program think, "That's cool~, I wanna dislocate my joints too," then I'll have succeeded (laughs). You really shouldn't dislocate them! For scenes where his joints dislocate, Suit Actor Nakata-kun and I discussed, "Wouldn't it look more detached if we did it this way?," and I created a video storyboard. Chinen Hidekazu-kun's performance as Dark Shouma was also really good.

"For this series, Gavv is made up of a small number of regular characters and Riders, but wasn't it difficult to create multiple Riders in a production like Geats?"

Fujita: I always think in terms of "this person is likely to do that," but on the flip side, I'll create their personalities by subtracting things that "this person wouldn't be able to do." I'll explain this directing method to the Suit Actors and ask them to come up with their own personalities. That way, I'm sometimes able to make use of the ideas they come up with as they are, use them later once they've grown, or maybe I'll use them for another character.

"Please tell us what you're conscious of in terms of the Granute characters that appear in each episode."

Fujita: I also try to take the beliefs and personal lives of the grunts and monsters into consideration. Tokusatsu works don't often delve into those kinds of aspects for the monsters, but……as an example, I think that a monster with hammers for arms lives a life of their own with those hammers. I'm a fan of Ghibli productions, and the worlds that Miyazaki Hayao-san depicts have a sense of reality within the fantasy. In a similar way, I believe that fantasy creatures like monsters can be made more convincing by presenting their beliefs, and when that happens, viewers will become more invested in the monster and show. I think the mood of the Agents performances is a particularly important part of showing Gavv's worldview.

"For the "reality in the form of fantasy," what exactly did you want to express?"

Fujita: For example, when a Rider pulls out a weapon, even though nothing should be there, they'll often pull it out from behind their backs or from out of frame, but I didn't want to do that. Therefore, I made sure that the Gavvgablade that Gavv uses comes out of the mouth on his stomach. Doing it like this increases the level of reality within the fantasy, don't you think? I think it'll get the viewers excited and invested in it. At the same time, it's also possible to create a "subtractive" direction like, "If the mouth is covered, the weapon can't come out."

"Are there any impressive action scenes that you've directed so far?"

Fujita: This is relevant to what I said before, but ever since the Gavvgablade first appeared, it just popped out of the mouth on his stomach, but I'm sure those watching must've thought, "I wish it came out looking cooler." The first time I made that look cool was in episode 11, when the sword flies out of the belt and hits an Agent. If I cut out that scene, the impression would've been something like, "Well, it's still interesting," but I think those who watched it were moved by their desire to see the "sword come out in a cool way." I like scenes that are created by build ups like those.

"In that episode, a highlight was the battle scene where they fight while knocking over the vending machine."

Fujita: Nawata-san and I both did our best in episode 11, but Director Kamihoriuchi did an amazing job of preparing things. Immediately after the script was finished, we received an order for "the battle to have these kinds of vibes," and it was decided that we'd construct a back alley set instead of filming on location. We prepared vending machines and outdoor units for the shoot, and then were subsequently given the order, "Since we can use the difference in elevation, can you think of some actions to take advantage of this?" I made about three video storyboards and had thorough discussions, and I exchanged ideas with the Director, where we came up with some interesting scenes, such as knocking over a vending machine and dropping an outdoor unit.

"Gavv uses lots of CG effects, but how do you shoot action scenes that use CG compositing?"

Fujita: Green screen filming techniques are common now, but it's still difficult to construct a scene from the script and have the entire film staff understand it. In my case, I'll discuss things with the Director, create a video stroyboard, and then think about the angles we want to shoot from and figure out what filming method to use. Along with it being easier to understand than verbal communication, we're also more likely to share opinions such as, "If that's the case, then maybe this is a better way to do it."

"The action of fighting by grabbing onto onomatopoeia words such as "munyu" is a direction unique to Gavv."

Fujita: That was shot on site using wire action, and then the letters for "munyu" would be added in post. I love wire action.

"Please tell us about any challenges you've experienced during filming so far."

Fujita: There have been so many challenges, that I don't know which one to talk about (laughs). What I'd like to say is that I've seen people on SNS say that, "Gavv started filming early, so it's nice that they have plenty of leeway," but because we started filming early, the deadline is also early, so there's really no time to spare. Toei's currently in the process of changing the filming schedule in order to "start preparations and filming early so they can create a good production." This policy will be very good for the coming future, but Gavv is stuck in the middle of this transitional period, so we're still exploring some things. The film staff and cast have been working hard despite such a schedule due to all the fans who look forward to the broadcasts.

"Will you no longer work as a Suit Actor in the future?"

Fujita: I do one offs every now and again, but balancing major roles like I used to do with being an Action Director is difficult. When I was working as a Suit Actor, moments where the character I was playing shined or gained depth felt rewarding. Still, I think the Action Director that I am now has more authority over giving depth to characters. I don't have a particular preference for one over another, but right now, as an Action Director, I'm excited about making Gavv and Valen and their friends shine. I'm doing everything I can to make it exciting for the children in front of the screens, the adult fans, and for Sugita-san, the Writer for Uchusen's "Detail of Heroes."

"Sugita-san too?! (laughs)."

Fujita: Sometimes when I'm directing, I'll think, "Sugita-san, you'll probably like this angle," or "Sugita-san! You'll be able to see the details here" (laughs).

"That's an honor. We'll pass this on to him. Finally, please tell us Fujita-san's favorite sweet."

Fujita: If I had to choose, I'd say it's "uirou." It's not a specialty from my hometown or anything like that, I just prefer uirou to yokan.

"Now then, please give a message to all the Gavv fans."

Fujita: Many people have said, "this Rider is my favorite," but I hope that the action was the deciding factor in making them their "favorite." The film staff and action team are working together, and we're doing our best to deliver you beautiful action, so please continue to support us!

[storiesforallfandoms]

a perfect world ~ jack chambers;don't worry darling

word count: 2122

request?: no

description: in which she finds out that their picture perfect world is not as perfect as it seems

pairing: jack chambers x female!reader

warnings: swearing, use of y/n, kind of an au where jack isn't an incel but he still does the bad thing of taking the reader into the simulation, jack tries to gaslight the reader, kind of a dark fic if you think about it but not super dark

masterlist (one, two, three)

Jack knew something was wrong the moment he walked into the house. It was the quiet that tipped him off. It was never quiet. Usually the place was filled with music. Either the soft lull of the radio, or his wife's humming, or both.

This time, though, the house was eerily quiet.

Jack came around the corner to find his wife stood at the kitchen counter. She had a glass of wine in her hand, with the bottle next to her on the counter. She was staring off into space as she took a sip of her wine, her movements almost robotic.

"(Y/N)?" Jack said, cautiously. "Love, are you alright?"

(Y/N) didn't respond at first. She took a long sip before slowly placing the glass down. Jack's worry was growing further. Not only worry for his wife, but worry for himself. If something was seriously wrong with her, then it would result in demotion, or worse, from Frank.

Finally, (Y/N) turned to face him. Her face was so calm that it scared Jack. When she spoke, her voice was also eerily calm.

"I know about Victory."

Jack tried to laugh off the comment. "My job? Of course you know about it, love."

"No," (Y/N) said, shaking her head. "I know what Victory is. I know why we're here, Jack. And what you did to me."

Jack's blood ran cold.

In his fear and anxiety, Jack started laughing again. (Y/N)'s face was still blank as she looked at him.

"I don't know what you're on about," Jack said. "I didn't do anything to you, besides put a ring on your finger."

(Y/N) chuckled, but there was no true humor behind it. "Well, yes, you did actually do that. But you didn't do it the way we've been telling the story, did you?"

Jack started to walk away. He was trying to seem nonchalant, but the panic was starting to overwhelm him. He didn't want (Y/N) to see his panic, otherwise he wouldn't be able to convince her that she was wrong.

He stopped when (Y/N) called after him, "How long do you intend to keep me in this simulation?"

Jack spun around before he could stop himself. "You are crazy! Do you hear yourself? You're talking crazy!"

Emotion was finally showing on (Y/N)'s face. It quickly went from shock to anger. "You're going to call me crazy? When you're the one who has me hooked up to a machine and making me play happy little housewife?!"

"You don't know what you're talking about!"

Jack couldn't help but quickly look around in panic. There was no way Frank was listening in on their private conversations, right? This wouldn't get back to him, would it? He needed to stop (Y/N) before things got too loud or somehow their neighbors noticed the arguing.

He tried a more calm approach, saying, "Love, I don't know where you got this idea. We are not in a simulation, you are not hooked up to machines. I'm sorry I called you crazy, but you have to understand that is how everyone will react when they hear you saying this."

(Y/N) pulled away as Jack tried to reach for her. "I got this idea when I went to the Victory headquarters."

Jack backed away from her. No, she couldn't have been to the Headquarters. None of the wives even knew where the Headquarters was, and they wouldn't be able to even go out that far.

Except for Margaret, but Ted wore he had her under control.

They locked eyes, silently daring the other to make a move. Jack had lost any sense of confidence he had mustered seconds ago. He felt like everything was about to slip from his fingers. Everything he worked so hard to build for him and (Y/N), all gone in the seconds it took for her to utter that sentence. Meanwhile, (Y/N) had gone back to looking emotionless. She didn't even realize how much she was about to lose.

When Jack didn't break the silence, (Y/N) took it as her opportunity to explain, "I was on the trolley and it broke down. The driver told me it would take some time for it to be fixed, so I offered to just walk back to town. But, oddly, the driver started trying to convince me not to get off. He was very adamant about staying on the trolley. I was a little put off by how insistent he was on it, but I thought he was just worried for my safety."

Jack felt himself unconsciously clenching his fists. The damn trolley driver. Couldn't he have been a little more subtle?

"I did stay on for a while," she continued. "But it was just the two of us, and I knew I'd get home quicker if I just walked. So I did. When the driver wasn't paying much attention, I got off and started walking. But we were in the desert, and none of us wives have ever been out that far, so I was a bit lost. I found his building I've never seen or heard of before. I knew I shouldn't go to it, but...my curiosity got the better of me."

Jack felt as though he was going to start crying. Even though he already knew the answer, he asked, "What did you see?"

"Nothing," (Y/N) responded. "Not at first. Not until I touched the building. Then I saw the truth. All of it."

Jack winced.

That's it. There's no denying her when she saw the building.

The truth was that (Y/N) was right: she was hooked up to a machine that was putting her in a simulated perfect 50s town.

In the real world, Jack and (Y/N) were really married. They fell in love young and married right after they graduated university. Everything was great, until Jack lost his job. His company was on a fast downwards spiral that resulted in a number of employees getting terminated, and Jack was one of the unfortunate ones. (Y/N) was still trying to get a job within her field of study, so she was working a minimum wage retail job. While Jack was unemployed, (Y/N) had to carry the financial burdens, and that made Jack feel awful and useless.

Then he discovered Frank and Victory.

Frank promised a perfect world and a perfect life. All Jack needed to do was work for eight hours a day, as well as all the other men within their town, for Frank; for Victory. It was a small price to pay for him and (Y/N) to live their dream life.

And now all of that work was ruined. Frank would take care of (Y/N) for finding out, whatever that meant, and Jack would be exiled from Victory.

He had to sit down.

He lowered himself into a chair at their dining table. (Y/N) was still watching him. He wished she would just do whatever she planned to do; scream, break things, go right to Frank and tell him she knew about everything. Whatever the plan, he just wanted her to get it over with. The unknown silence was killing him.

"Why?" she finally asked. "Why did you do this?"

"For us," Jack said. "So we could live a better life."

"What was wrong with our life before?"

Jack scoffed. "Seriously? (Y/N), we were struggling. I was unemployed, you were working a shitty job. You were pulling all the financial weight, and I hate that all of that was on your shoulders."

"So instead of talking to me about your feelings, you hooked me up to a machine and put me into a simulation without my consent?"

Jack hung his head. There was no way to paint that part in a good light. He hadn't brought up Victory because he was afraid (Y/N) would reject the idea, and he couldn't take their real life for much longer.

"I just wanted to take care of you," Jack said, his voice small. "You were doing it for so long, and you never complained even though I know it was tough. I didn't want you to do it anymore, and Frank offered the perfect life for us."

He heard (Y/N)'s heels clicking against the tiled kitchen floor as she approached the table. He couldn't look up at her as she leaned on the table, basically towering over him.

"What happens if Frank finds out that I know?" she asked.

Jack shook his head. "I don't completely know. He just says he takes care of it."

"Did he take care of Margaret?"

He didn't ask her how she knew that Margaret had known the truth as well. It was probably pretty obvious now that she knew. Instead, he just nodded. "And he told Ted that if he didn't get Margaret under control, then he'd be fired from Victory."

"So, if Frank finds out, this is all over for both of us?"

He nodded again. He had a feeling he knew where she was going with this. She'd go tell Frank that she knew the truth about Victory, even though it would be a risk for her to do so. But the risk would be worth it if it meant Jack was fired from Victory, sent back to the reality that he was trying to desperately to save them from. Once they were back in their own reality, (Y/N) would no doubt divorce him as well. He'd deserve it, of course.

"Then I'll just have to get really good at keeping a secret."

Jack's head shot up quickly to look at (Y/N). There was a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips, and there was something in her eyes as she looked at Jack.

"What do you mean?" he asked, dumbly.

"I mean, what you did was very fucked up. Like, extremely fucked up. Next time you're making big decisions like, I don't know, putting us in a fucking simulation, maybe talk to me about it first. But, with that being said...I'd be lying if I said I preferred our real life over this one."

Jack was stunned. This was not what he was expecting at all.

(Y/N) gestured for Jack to push his chair back. When given enough room, she sat herself on his lap and put her arms around his neck.

"We can't stay here forever," she told him. "We have real bodies that need to be taken care of, and families and people that will worry if we just disappear. But, it's hard to give up on this life. It's so...perfect."

"So what are you saying?" Jack asked.

"I'm saying we put a cap on how long we stay here. Give it...I don't know, another year. We let ourselves be happy, be worry free. Then, however we have to, we get out of here and we get to working on making our reality just as perfect as the simulation is."

"You'll have to go back to work."

She nodded. "I know. But I'm not opposed to working. I did get a whole degree so I could work my dream job, after all."

Jack put his arms around her. He wanted to pull her in close and not ever let her go, but he couldn't just yet. "Why?"

She furrowed her brows. "Why what?"

"Why aren't you more mad? Why aren't you going to tell Frank so that I get in trouble? Why do you want to stay here...stay with me?"

(Y/N) gave him a look like she thought he was being incredibly stupid before cupping his cheeks. "Because I love you, you idiot. And, like I said, the way you went about doing this was very stupid and wrong, but I know you did it because you love me, too. As long as you can agree with my deal, I don't see any reason to be mad and want to leave you."

Jack finally allowed himself to kiss her. It caught her off guard, which made her giggle against his lips. Every memory he had with her, both in the real world and in their simulation, came rushing back to him.

"I agree," he said. "I'll do whatever you want, I promise."

"Right now, I think I want to make love to my husband in our super cool retro bedroom," she told him. "Just to make sure I don't forget how to do that when we get back to the real world."

Jack smiled at her. "Oh, don't worry love. I won't let you forget."