#it was very difficult to visualize this man 'cause he's so damn fine

[sarangkstars]

Attack on Titan

[subpar-ghoulfriend]

School Nurse

@letstalkaboutfandomsbaby led me to yet another 2D man that I want to get wrecked by

How would a school nurse react to Hwajin’s presence? Dabauchery will ensue.

AN: this started out as a short little drabble, turned into a long smutty mess that I finally rangled in with romance because… after care. As a nurse I was getting to into the logistics of the pencil stab

TW: smut, degradation, praise kink, breeding kink, power exchange, mild wound description (pencil stab), sex in a nurses office, oral sex

NO MINORS

Hwajin knew you would look good on your knees. You had a bratty, stubborn nature that he wanted to overpower. He thought you were too gentle with trouble makers. When he told you this, you argued that it was your job as a school nurse to take care of all the students.

How was it that you were so hostile with him but when it came to even the worst students you were so gentle. It irritated him. You actively avoided him. Maybe he wouldn't care if he didn't find you so damn adorable. Thoughts of you kept him company late at night.

Even when he forced you to take a baton after he saw a student get in your face yelling. The only person you used it against was him. Apparently you wouldn't allow him to pull students out of your office regardless of their offense.

He was shocked to learn that few students ever bothered you. The worst offenders would constantly make advances at you and since you would have his head, he disciplined them only once you were out of range.

And you were equally irate. He treated you like a child when you tried to present him with research that aggression towards children under the age of 18 was just as detrimental as ignoring their bad behavior. You weren't against addressing the students inappropriate behavior, but the number of visits to your office had tripled upon his arrival.

It become rare that schools had a nurse on campus, barely coming back in to practice following the hands off policy. And at the most part you were mainly treating the faculty and the more unlucky students. If the Ministry of Education wanted to bring in people like Na, would you even have a job much longer?

/

"What are you doing here? I'm not harboring any students," You hissed as the warden entered your office.

"If I remember correctly, I'm here to oversee the whole school. That includes you. Besides I actually need medical help."

Hwajin turned the lock on the door before unbuttoning his shirt. He turned around to show you a shallow hole between his shoulder blades. You tried to keep the blush from creeping on to your face as you scanned his muscular body.

Apparently a student surprised him by sinking a pencil into his skin.

"Violence breeds violence," You chided when the realization hit. "Oh god, did you kill the student?"

You were truly alarmed. He took slight offense to that question. He wasn't a great guy but he wasn't going to kill someone on the job.

"Just give me something to bandage this up," he rolled his eyes.

You motioned for him to sit on the medical table but of course he had to make things difficult, choosing to straddle a chair instead. In spite of his protests that he could take care of things himself you pulled on a pair of gloves.

"Don't be such a pain, Mr. Na. There's no way you can properly clean what's on your back."

You probed around the wound that was already angry and red. The blood has begun to dry. Trying not to cause unnecessary pain you attempted to visually assess the bed of the wound for any debris that may lead to infection.

Instinctively he howled in pain as you began to clean.

"Will you just put a bandaid over it so I can get back to my job?"

You had to admit you were getting some sick satisfaction from this. The wound was clean and you applied an anti bacterial ointment but it was in a location where the skin tended to pull and stretch so you were sure it would bleed throughout the day-

"Are you smoking in my office?"

Hwajin gave you a cheeky grin before blowing smoke toward your face.

The nerve. In retaliation you flicked the inflamed skin while avoiding the actual wound.

"Ouch, you're cute when you get angry," Na laughed.

Your cheeks were scorching, "Okay Mr Na, you're all wrapped up. Stop by at the end of the day so I can change the bandage."

He winked while buttoning up shirt, "I knew you liked seeing me."

"Out." You hissed.

As he walked down the halls he chuckled to himself. He couldn't wait for you to submit to him.

/

Through out the day your mind wandered to Hwajin. Him sitting in front of you, shirtless and rippled with muscle. The parts of his skin left unscarred were so soft compared to his attitude. You wondered if his palms were as soft or were they were rough and calloused.

As if on cue the man walked into your office, catching you during one of your fantasies. Was it already the end of the day? Sure enough, the clock showed school let out half an hour ago.

Just like before he secured the door and stripped off his shirt. The bandage wasn't soaked, but it did need to be changed. The day warped your work and some of the tape was lifted away from his skin.

This time politely in the chair, he hummed as you removed and replaced the soiled bandage.

"Starting tomorrow you should just leave it open to air. This is really just to keep you getting your blood on your shirt. If you start thinking you have an infection go to the hospital." You turned around to discard your gloves.

As you turned back, you bumped into Hwajin Na. He smiled down at you and ruffled your hair, "Thanks, nurse, you took such good care of me. You'll have to let me thank you."

He lowered his mouth to your whisper in your ear, "what should I do for you?"

Your were in a losing position, you didn't want to make eye contact but you couldn't stare straight ahead, he still wasn't dressed and it was too overwhelming. You settled on looking down toward his feet.

You quickly snapped your eyes back up when you notice a bulge trying to push past his pants.

"Uh, no need to thank me. It's my job." You stepped back against the wall, at least giving you a bit more space.

Hwajin placed his arms against the wall so he could close the space between you.

"What's wrong? You're flushed. Let's see if you have a fever." He pressed forehead against your. "You feel a bit warm, but not worrisome."

You stammered, "Uh, Mr Na, it's late so we should probably wrap up."

"Mr Na," he mocked you. "Why do you do that? We're both adults, you can call me Hwajin."

Your eyes darted around the room. Maybe you were being punked. Was he testing you?

"It's respectful, it would be rude to call you by your first name."

He brushed a stand of hair behind your shoulder, pleased with your response.

"Well I can think of other titles you could call me that I would enjoy much more."

You were struggling between your desire and your fear of losing your job. Surely he knew what he was doing to you.

Of course he knew, the gleam in his eyes made that clear.

"Well, it's pretty late and I don't know about you but I'm tired after today so I'll see you tomorrow."

He dropped his hands and you took that as the end of his teasing. But instead he hoisted you against him, grasping the back of your thighs.

"My poor little nurse, I've kept you so busy. How about you lay down and let me help you relax."

"Hwajin, put me down," You smacked his shoulder. Listening, he sat you down the cot you constantly sanitized. In spite of what you were saying you allowed him to crawl on top of you.

"Hmm, now you use my first name, little nurse? And here I thought you were respectful," he nipped at your ears.

You shivered.

"Well pick one," You groaned. "First, no last name, then no first name. What's left."

His tongue darted across your neck while began tearing at your clothes, "how about you just be a good girl and call me 'Sir'."

At this point the primal part of your brain took over as you pathetically began to rub against his thigh. Your Irrational brain didn't need a job, it just needed this man to fuck her.

Nearly all your clothes were discarded to the floor as his mouth began to tease your breasts. Your hand tangled in his hair when sink his teeth into your tender flesh.

"Talk to me baby," he sighed. "Use your words, ask for what you want."

You lay out a whimper and tugged at belt loops, "fuck me."

He pinched your in thigh, "Now that's not using your manners. Am I going to need to teach you to behave?"

You mumbled a response that he could barely hear, eliciting another pinch to your thigh.

You huffed, "fine, please fuck me, Sir"

Pleased with your response he tugged your panties to the side, stroking your soaked pussy with his middle knuckle.

"Atta girl. You're so fucking wet for me. How long have you been waiting to be my little slut?"

He slid one finger inside of you with ease, arching you back as moved inside you. You were trying to fumble at his the button of his pants but he pushed your hands off him.

With a growl he removed his hands and your underwear from your body, "Not yet, although I'm flattered how desperate you are for me. Turn over, ass in the air, show me what's mine."

You were happy to obey, sliding into one of your favorite positions.

"You're not be very nice, sir," You teased. "You could at least remove your pants."

His hands came down hard on your ass causing you to cry out in pain and pleasure.

"Watch what you say, unless you like being disciplined. You already know I don't tolerate disobedience. And as much as enjoy your screams, don't forget that just because school is over doesn't mean everyone is gone."

You bite your tongue as he spanked you again. He certainly wasn't holding back. But he was right, there were after school clubs and some teachers stayed as late as 8. His fingers found their way inside your warmth again, fluid dripping from your aching cunt. You had adjust to his rhythm of spanking when his fingers were at their deepest. You felt so close to release. When he withdrew from you yet again.

You let out a frustrated groan until his hand made firm contact with your pussy. Once, twice, three times produce a wet spanking sound. You couldn't hold in your tears, thankful you were a glutton for pain.

"You still with me, princess?" He cooed, getting off the bed. You nodded. "Good girl, hold that position for me just a bit longer."

You nodded again, words evading your mind. You appreciated the coolness produced by the cot. Hwajin repositioned the pillow that had fallen on the floor and removed his belt.

Standing next to you on the bed he finally directed you into another position. He helped you stand, barefoot on the linoleum floor. You were held against his chest as you gathered your bearings.

He nuzzled against your hair, "I'm not a gentle man, if you need to stop at any time you say so okay. And that's an order. Can you do that for me princess?"

You told him you would as he helped you sink your knees to the pillow. He ruffled your hair again, telling you how good you looked. Finally he unzipped his pants, his erect dick right in front of you.

"Look at me."

You complied, tearing your ways away from his cock.

"If you want my dick then prove it. Open up that pretty mouth of yours."

He grabbed you by the hair, guiding your lips his shiny tip. Your tongue circled around him, admiring his taste. You weren't usually self conscious but you couldn't help but be nervous you'd disappoint him. As you began wrap your lips around him, Hwajin inhaled sharply. He gave your hair a gentle tug.

"Eyes on me. Good. You're doing so well. All the way to the base, baby."

You were almost there when there was a knock at your door. Hwajin kept his grip firm on you, instead of allowing you to pull back he shoved his throbbing dick down your throat and began fucking your mouth while putting a finger to his lips. He was smirking like the devil. Your throat constricting in protest.

"Excuse me, nurse," one of the school kids called. Knocking again.

"Fuck," Na muttered as he released into your mouth. Tears spilled over your eyes as you struggled to swallow.

The nock persisted, "hellooo? Come on I need to pick up a physical form."

"She's busy, fuck off."

As the footsteps faded down the hall Na released you from his grasp. He couldn't help but laugh at you when you pouted up at him, your were glistening and your cheeks were rosy and puffy. God, next time he swore he would take a photo of you on your knees after sucking his dick.

"Really, you had to open up your loud mouth," You whined. "You could've just pretended no one was here."

He shrugged in response, helping you off the floor.

This time on the cot you were both undressed. Hwajin sucked and bite on your neck. You nudged him off telling him he was gonna leave a mark.

"You're telling me I can't mark up my little whore?"

"Just not where students can see."

That was fair enough, there were other places he'd rather leave bruises. Between your thighs. Your stomach. Your breasts. Proof that he had made you his.

He wouldn't bite too rough, not want to scare you off. He planned on making more of these moments with you. You were better in person. Exceeding his late night fantasies.

Finally he began to slide his cock inside you, your pussy searing with pleasure at his size. It was a struggle to control the volume of your moans.

"Does my little slut like that? You want me to stuff you?"

"Please," You cried, needing more or his touch. "Please don't stop, Sir. Please let me cum on your dick."

Hwajin began to pound harder into your tight pussy, admiring how your body reacted to the sheer force of him. Each time he snapped his hips against you, your lush breasts, along with the rest of your body, followed with an intoxicating jiggle.

You were exactly what he needed and he wished to consume you. His mind flashed to images of you tied up and exposed for him, placing all of your trust in him. Or he could snap a pretty collar around your neck and tie you to the bed with a leash, you would be begging him to fuck you like a bitch.

"Tell me need me," he growled. "That no one else can fuck you into submission and make you dumb with pleasure. Your mine and I don't share."

Tears rushed down your face as a mixture of pain and desire burst the pressure in your core. You clenched around him, babbling what he instructed you to and meaning every word.

The tightness of your orgasm shocked both you and Hwajin. Paired along with your heat pushed the man past his limit, releasing his thick cum inside of you. Even through the near blinding pleasure of his own release Hwajin felt a moment of worry, he hadn't meant to pour himself inside of you, he was fully aware he wasn't wearing protect and had gotten your consent.

Between your gasps and moans you were were repeating a breathy thank you. Unless he had died and gone to Heaven You were actually begging him for more of his seed. Crying out that you needed him to stuff you full. The man nearly confessed his love for you on the spot.

However he maintained his composure. Pressing closer to you and guiding you through the high of your orgasm.

He combed his fingers through your hair, whispering praises and reassurance. Telling you to relax into him, he wasn't going anywhere. Finally your grip on him relaxed as a gluttonous smile graced your lips.

Na propped himself up next to you with his elbow. His other hand cupping your face.

You looked at Hwajin, "This doesn't mean I'm going to ignore your behavior towards the students."

"You know, seeing you protective over a bunch of snot nosed punks makes me want to fuck you until your nine months pregnant. It would keep you out of my hair while you were stuck waddling around home safe and sound. Win-win."

You gawked at him. Joking that you had yet to see any paternal instincts from him.

"I am actually great with children so long as their raised right. Like hell I'd let my kids turn out like these delinquents."

The two of you bantered back and forth while re-dressing. It was dark by the time you exited the school. Na was lighting a cigarette the minute he was past the schools threshold. You began to tell him goodnight where the two of you should naturally part ways but Hwajin caught you by the wrist, a confused expression thrown your way.

“Where do you think you're going? I'm not done with you yet," he said, cigarette hanging from his mouth. You were about to respond when he cut you off. "Round two will be so much better in my bed. You'll be lucky if You leave my place in time for work tomorrow. But we should probably feed you first. I gotta take care of my little nurse."

[natsukitakama]

NSFW alphabet Eren Jaeger edition

Author note : would you believe me if I told you I literally dreamt about it ? I’m not kidding I’ve got the whole thing on my mind I couldn’t not write this down. Well I hope you’ll enjoy it. I’ve got inspire by couple headcanon I read but I couldn’t remember which one my apologies. 

I do not own that gif credit to the owner

Warning : NSFW below / gender neutral 

Masterlist 

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

He is not the best when it came to aftercare but he’s not the worst. It’s just he gives everything during your session to please you, to love you properly that he just felt so tired after that. So basically he will just lay down and have you on his chest, his hand on your hair stroking it while falling asleep. But if he was a particularly rough session or if he felt like you need some proper aftercare be sure he’ll do everything for your comfort : clean you by running you a bath if you’re not too sore (otherwise he’ll will clean you while you’re on the bed), massaging some spot he might hurt like your hips or your back, even changing the sheets if you two were particularly dirty. 

On a rare occasion, when both of you have time and if Eren felt particularly needy he might make a bath for both you so he could have you back against his chest his arm around you while he would kiss your neck or your shoulder. It’s something he’ll grown to love so that will become an habit of him. 

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

First of all he is absolutely in love with you meaning he doesn’t care about your physics he loves you for who you are. Buuut he is obsessed by your eyes and lips there something about how powerful they are and how good they fell when they are in him. He craves for any mark of affection and he is sucker for your hand, just the way they feel on his cheek when you kiss him or desperate they are on his when he fucks you the right way. 

But if you want to be dirty, there something about your chest that never stop to amazed him. He just can’t help but stare at them : he is chest man. 

When it came to him, he kinda proud of his abs and basically his whole chest. Like I said he is chest man so if he is amazed by how good your chest look, he is also concerned by the way his chest look : he always smirk when he catches you looking at his abs, his arms lusting for his body. 

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

Normally Eren isn’t messy at all, he was taught  to be clean no matter what circumstances (no wonder why Levi likes the way Eren clean). So when it came to sex he tries his best to not make a mess. But it’s kinda difficult you know ? Cause he really loves to cum on your body it’s definetely a huge turn on for him : if he saw your chest covered by his cum damn he’s done for another round with you. He just loves the way he could mark you as his even if he’ll clean you after you won’t be able to erase that picture. 

You’re wondering why he never comes into you ? 

That’s simple because he was afraid to ask you, no matter how long your relationship is established there still things who is he still ashamed to ask. But one day, you two were more intimate than usual : he got you sat on his lap riding his cock, your hands on his shoulder for support while he was holding you by your hips whispering how much he loves how he couldn’t have enough of you. With a quick move he got you on your back, your legs around his waist as he was moving deeply in you. There were nothing rough on his move just pure love and adoration for you. Your breath were erratic has his hit all the good spot, then he started to speed up his pace feeling that both of you were close to your climax. And with a last powerful thrust he filled you, as you were overwhelmed by your own orgasm. He couldn’t describe how good he felt and you couldn’t either. 

Right after this he apologized for culling inside of you which you told him that it was absolutely fine besides you enjoyed it. Now no matter when, everytime you walked by his side he got that smug on his face knowing there something who came from him into you. 

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He loves keeping your underwear after having sex with you, he’ll try to catch it before you could notice. Then he’ll help to dress again taking advantage of the fact you were probably too sore to even noticed you weren’t wearing your underwear anymore. Then, when he’ll be alone with Jean he might let poke out your underwear just enough so Jean would catch him : The smug on Eren’s face is indefinable he just enjoys letting him know that he actually has a significant other and he is more a man than him. Also the sight of Jean became a whole blush mess because he understand why Eren had your underwear in his pocket is priceless. 

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

No matter how old he was when you started your relationship, expect him to be a baby virgin. During his whole life he was only focused on killing titans besides he never expected to meet someone and being in relationship. 

But he’s not that obvious when it came to sex, his father was a doctor so yeah he taught him a things or two about human body : when he was 8 years old he learned how to make baby and it definetly disgust him I mean what the point of putting something who is supposed to be for peeing in something who is supposed to do the same things ? That day he told his mum he will never make baby which makes her laugh so hard. Of course he doesn’t know how powerful hormones can be. Basically he knows the basics where to put his cock and what to do to not hurt you : he is absolutely unaware how important foreplay is, at first he thought kissing you was enough to turn you on (well it is but you know that’s not all about it ???). 

So you’ll have to talk a lot about it with him so he won’t do mistake he might regret. 

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

At first he was absolutely fine with you under him, missionary was definetly his thing. In fact even if he doesn’t have experienced in sex, Eren is pretty dominant in bed. So having you under him, your legs around his waist as you giving yourself to him : that’s so beautiful and yet so powerful. 

With time, he’ll try more position as he is very open about it ( he doesn’t see what he should  be ashamed about being curious sex is just another subject ???), he loves when you ride him the sight of you blessing with pure ecstasy definetly became a kink for him, he is sucker for doggy style cause not only did you trust him enough to let him have his thing but it also felt absolutely good. When he felt especially needy or romantic, he will take you on his lap as you ride him while hugging you. 

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Find something eren isn’t serious about. You got it, like I said, sex is another subject that interest him so he is not afraid to ask something or just try new thing. And like any subject he is into, he is very serious so don’t expect him to crack some joke or anything in addition he will feel offended if you try to mock him or anything : this is something intimate and very important, he is about to show you how much he loves you so be serious. 

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Did you see that poor baby goatee and mustache he got back in Mahr days ? He isn’t very hairy and he shaved a lot cause he loved being smooth he finds it more convenient and clean. When it came to you well, he is not very demanding but he expect you to no bother him with your hair. 

He is not a fan of hairs that could be a turn off if you didn’t take care of it, but he won’t ever force you to shave or anything just asking you to take care of it so it won’t bother him while he takes care of you. 

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…) 

At this times, you could guess what I’m about to answer. He is VERY intimate with you, sex is another way for him to show you how much he loves you and since he is not very good with his words it’s a good way to counterbalance that. Eren is known to be a passionate person : When he has sex with you he does passionately.  

Expect him to cover your body with kiss and deep touch, he’ll whispers into your ear praising you telling you how much he loves you. Slightly just enough for you to feel, he will bite your earlobe and your neck expect some hickeys at the end of your session. He will caress every part of your body kissing each part of your skin at this time you might even come about how good he is when he touch you. He wants you to be pleased like the queen you are to him. Eren is passionate you’re one of his passion and he wants you to know that. 

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

During a long time he never touched himself, not because he didn’t want to but because he didn’t know what to do : unfortunately his dad was gone before he has time to teach him this (Grisha only taught him how to make a baby he wanted to talk about masturbation when Eren would be a teenager). He only learns about it cause one day he saw one of his camarad touching himself on the bedroom, it was short but he saw how to do it. And during the night when was alone on the bathroom he tried. 

It felt good and his released help him going through his stress, so basically he used to do it to destress. He stopped it when you two became intimate cause he didn’t see the point of keep going. 

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

He might have a daddy kink and a pregnancy kink but won’t admit it.  He is a Dom in bed, he counterbalance the lack of control he has on his own life, on the bed with you (which you were absolutely fine with that since he knows how to please you). In addition he always wanted to have a family on his own, the sight of you and especially your belly full of baby of him : +100 ego boost for eren. In addition he might have a voyeurism kink (Go to W ;)) 

That’s something quite « dark » for him so he might never talk about it 

But that’s not all about it, he got a praise kink just told him how good he make you feel and he’ll reward you. He has lack of confidence so it’s good for his pride. He might be into overstimulation too cause the sight of your body shaking from pleasure is a most for him. 

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Your room is definetly his favorite place but considering how busy you two were, most or the time much to his dismay you couldn’t have sex in your place. 

Time to time he enjoys having you in storeroom, back against a wall, trying to shut your moan as he fucks you deeply. One day he tried to sleep with you on a wood during a day-off but he wasn’t satisfied cause he has to be quick so you won’t be caught. 

Basically any place with a wall, a table would be fine with him but a bed it’s definetly a most. 

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Again no matter how old he was when you two got intimate, he became addict to it. He is kinda sensitive and the feeling he got while he was into you was incredible and nothing could compare. But, Eren being the man he is, he could be kinda obvious when it came to something who isn’t titan’s related. So sometimes when you were excited and wanted to got released from him, the boy might not see it. 

So to have him in a mood is pretty simple, there are so much things he loves about you especially your body. If you want to be subtle you could play with the button of your shirt while looking at him, or bitting your lip while looking at him. If he doesn’t get what you need or if he wants to tease you by not giving you what you want. Well you’ll have to confront him, took his arm into yours and make sur to squeeze it against your chest while whispering into his ears how much you crave for him, bit very gently his earlobe then beg for him and one minute later you find yourself against a wall while he kissed you. 

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He is definetly against everything who involves pain, your life was already painful and hard without bringing it into bed (he won’t be against spanking you though) so forget anything like blood play, hard BDSM, anything involving humiliation. 

Threesome is a big no a HUGE NO you are his and only his what would you bring someone ??? Don’t ever ask him, seriously he will think he is not good enough for you. You don’t want to make him sad right ?

Basically everything Involving lack of movement (like tie someone) isn’t really his thing since he used to be tied a lot of time. But if you bring it safely, explain him and took your time he might tie you up against the head of the bed but it’ll take even more time for you to convince him to let you tied him up : most of the time it triggered bad memories so it kills the mood. 

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Give him head and he will be the luckiest man of the world, seriously he was a bit reluctant at first cause he didn’t expect something like that to happen. But when you started to kiss his length his doubt was quickly forgotten. He loves receiving more than giving but that doesn’t mean he won’t give you a special treatment. This is a part of why he loves your lips, around him sucking him like the good lover you are. 

little trick : give him a deep throat while playing with his balls and the whole neighbors will know your name. 

He is very good with his tongue and he got better and better with times, the feel of you against his mouth shaking, moaning, begging for him is a huge turn on for him. If he managed to make you cum hard on his mouth he might cum himself cause it was incredible. If you think he was good with his tongue, he is even better at giving head with his fingers. 

P = Pace (Are they fats and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Usually his pace his deep and kinda fast, he is so lost in the moment and the sound of your moan is everything he needs to purchase his own release. He wants you to feel him just as much as he enjoys feeling your wall around him. 

On a rare occasion, when he is romantic he would be very slow but always deep into you just enjoying the pleasure in addition it gives him all the time he wants to love you and praise you. On the contrary when he feels jealous, he tends to be pretty rough : he will ravage you in bed just to make sure everyone in the world will know who you belong to

No matter which pace he will have, you always felt overwhelmed by pleasure. He is great lover despite his lack of experience he is fastest learner.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He is not into quickie, sex is supposed to be an intimate moment for both of you so you could express your feeling and enjoying each other in a physical aspect. But quickie ? He couldn’t praise you properly what the point ? 

He quickly change his mind when you give him head on storeroom during a training session, after coming from your sweet lips he turn you around back face into him and he would got you around him. After that he started to enjoy this and will initiate it when he’ll have a boner and he couldn’t take it away. But that doesn’t change his opinion : sex in bed Is way better 

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Earlier I said that you two have sex in woods one day that give you an idea right ? Like I said Eren is very open when it came to sex so he is always into trying new thing in bed (as long as it’s not bringing someone else). He loves the chill of the fact he could be surprised while he is having his way on you. 

One day you were cleaning one of the basement’s room, it was hot so you took your shirt over so you were on a tank top and Eren might have a boner seeing you bending over to catch some dust while wearing your tight pant. One moment later you felt his hand on your ass squeeze it gently while his second hand was on your hips. And before you could even realized he got you on the table, him on you looking at you with nothing but pure love and lust. 

that being said he will never try something you are not into it. And he will never put you into situation that you make you uncomfortable. 

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Being a soldier for him to work a lot on his body to be as hardy as possible and he willing to use it on you. That being said your first couple of time weren’t as long as he wanted to due to his lack of experiment. He was literally overwhelmed by pleasure. But with times he learned to not end too quickly and he started to last like twenty minute easily without count foreplay. And he can go for two maybe three rounds if he is not too exhausted. 

He never get enough of you and sometimes you have to tell him stop cause you were far too sensitive too keep going. 

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Not really into toys he doesn’t see the point of uses it since he is more than enough to satisfy you. But you own toys he would oblige and use it on you and maybe will he let you use it on him. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

At first he wasn’t much a tease and when he does it that was by accident because he took too much time kissing your body. It wasn’t his intention. But in getting older Eren learned to enjoy teasing you, part of it because he loves hearing you beg for him it makes him feel so important for you. Like he’s the only one who knows how to please you. 

Man bun Eren is teaser and he is not afraid to make you crazy about him just to hear you beg for him.  

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Despite his Dom personality, Eren is a moaning mess : everything felt just too good for him and he couldn’t control himself but moan with you. In addition hearing you moaning his name make him moan. He is loud and he is even louder when you give him head. That’s probably the curses of being passionate you couldn’t control yourself.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

He definetly has a voyeurism kink, he never knows about it until one day it was late, everyone was supposed to sleep now. At least that what Eren thought when he came into your room after a week of not being able to touch you. He took this opportunity to cherish you just the way you deserve it. 

But while you were on four and him was behind you giving you his best thrust as he was getting closer to his climax he could swore he saw someone looking by the crack of the door. The thought of someone watching him as he was pleasing you was enough to got him into his own climax but he tried his best to not come. You didn’t know why he does that but you felt it him getting harder on you, one his hand was spanking you just the way you like it while his other hand was on your neck, putting you more in the mattress. His pace was animalistic, you didn’t know where it came from but you sure enjoy it. Eren on the other hand, motivate by the thought of someone watching you, did everything to last as long as possible until he couldn’t take it anymore. 

At the end he never knows if someone did actually watch him but he sure enjoy the thought. 

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

I don’t know if it’s because of his titan DNA but he is sure huge not that monstrous but enough to make you salivate at the thought of him inside of you. He is probably 8,6 inch (length) for 1,5 inch (width). 

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Maybe it’s his hormone maybe it’s just him but he has a huge sex drive and much to his dismay he couldn’t satisfy it as much as he wants to. He just couldn’t get enough of you, it seems like no matter what you did he’ll find it attractive. He is really into you : kicking Jean’s ass ? Boner. Bending over to catch something ? Boner. Pressing your chest against his ? Boner. You have a huge effect on him. 

Most of the time he can control his sex drive and cool himself before he got a boner but sometimes no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t prevent his boner so he’ll take into the closest storeroom for you to take care of his « problem ». 

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Depends on how many rounds you two got, if you got three rounds eren will just lay down on the bed and put you on his chest before falling asleep (not before giving you a quick good night kiss) if he was reasonable he would take time to run you a bath, clean you if you need to or just lay down with you on the bed holding you close and start a talk about anything. You know just to have more time with you. 

[paragonrobits]

a friend asked me to give a shot at doing an entry in this tier list they linked me to, of the video games inducted into the World Video Game Hall of Fame since 2015, and I opted to give it a shot!

My rankings are generally biased towards games I personally enjoy playing, though I will give some commentary on their historic relevance:

S-Rank

Super Mario Bros: The game that repopularized video games in the US, that arguably began the entire platforming video game genre and all its imitators and spin-offs, that spawned a new generation of video games after the Atari Crash in the US, and still a DAMN FUN game in its own right! I simply had to put this at the top ranking. After the disillusionment caused by Atari’s failures, this game brought home consoles back in a big way to the US. 

World of Warcraft: Now, I’m not much for MMORPGs. Nevertheless, I’ve followed the lore and general information in the Warcraft setting for years now, and a couple years back, my brother asked me to play it with him. I had a ton of fun, honestly! Playing a goblin mage, I believe. WoW is notable for being THE MMORPG, and still going strong. Admittedly, nowadays many games do what it does better, and the time when it was dominant as THE single game to play is past, but it was still an enjoyable experience and I really have to like how sincere the game is about its aesthetics and campy vibe. Given that the entire setting is reputedly a reskin of a Warhammer Fantasy Battle video game that went south, it’s cheery and colorful, morally gray tone is... an interesting complication in its history. (Also, HORDE. I STAN THE HORDE VERY HARD.)

The Sims: A bit of history; I did not play this game as enthusiastically as a kid as my sister and mom did. We ALL spammed the hell out of the Rosebud cheat, though; not until recent times did I actually wind up playing the game properly, when the most recent iteration of the series was free for a while. My mom didn’t care to play the game, she just liked building houses. In any case, while my attention drifted from the game now and then, I always am fascinated by the actual gameplay of caring for your simulated humans, and the way you don’t actually control them directly. This sort of hands off experience is actually a bit similar to the ‘dungeon simulator’ genre, and while the game is notorious for enabling cruelty (something I never saw the appeal of!), it’s a surprisingly wholesome experience, and it can’t be understated how unique this gameplay was at the time.

Legend of Zelda: It’s actually rather interesting how different OG Zelda is from modern games. Not just the top down perspective (which DOES pop up, now and then); the game is non-linear and allows you to go to any dungeon at any point, completing the game at your leisure, and the story is extremely barebones compared to what we may be used to. It’s quite a far cry from the linear gameplay of gradually collecting tools and working through plots that the games are known for. Breath of the Wild is, in fact, a return to form rather than an upheaval of the formula. I’ll also admit that I have a lot of affection for the gameplay of this one, as well as Link To The Past.

Donkey Kong: When you’re talking old school, as far as what you might call the modern generation of games goes (which is to say, the games that resurged after the Atari Crash), it’s hard to go wrong with Donkey Kong. It’s certainly notable for being a weird stage in Mario’s character and something that is generally ignored; it’s just strange thinking that at one point he was supposed to be abusive towards a pet ape that went in an innocent, well-meaning rampage! Personally this one kind of breaks a mold for my S-class rankings because while I like this one fine, I don’t like it THAT much; i mostly played it in the DK 64 game, and found it very difficult and that’s stuck with me. Still, I place it here for its momentous position in placing Nintendo on the map, with the influence and revolutionary technologies and gaming mechanics they would introduce, to this very day.

Pokemon Red/Blue: Hoo boy. HOO BOY it is honestly something of an oversight that I didn't immediately shove this beauty straight to the front of the S-line because good god I love this game. It's been years and years, long since I was but a whee Johnny playing a strange new game for the first time just because there was a cool turtle creature on the cover (because I was super into turtles back then), and I still love this game. Even with the improvements made to the formula since then (getting rid of HMs, the fixes and new types introduced since) there's still something lovable about this game, even as something as basic as the official artwork that just tugs my heartstrings. This game is highly notable for being an RPG that popularized the monster collecting/befriending gameplay (so far as I know), and as an autistic person, i really appreciate knowing the whole thing grew out of an autistic man's bug collection hobby from when he was a child. Pokemon is an absolute juggernaut of a media influence, and THIS is where it all began. It's first stage evolution, you might say. And not like a Magikarp or anything. This one's more like one of the starters... appropriately enough. Final Fantasy 7: This is probably a bit of a controversial take, but FF7 was not actually one of my favorite Final Fantasy entries back in the day. I never played much more of it than the beginning missions, as my cousin owned the machine in question, and I moved out before i could play it much. Final Fantasy 3 (in the US; it's more generally referred to as 6 now) was my favorite for a long, long time, and that game pioneered many of the traits that would be associated with 7: the epic story, the complex ensemble cast, though 7 really expanded on that basic idea, and previous games were hardly shabby in that regard. 9 is my favorite of the pre-10 era, with its extreme shake ups to the mechanics of the game. No; what makes 7 stand out is that it was a shift towards making Final Fantasy a constantly shifting, unique franchise where every entry was its own thing; it introduced 3D graphics with a fun and cartoony style mixed with a story that wouldn't be out of place in a cyberpunk story, and heralds Squaresoft (as it was called at the time) splitting off from Nintendo, with its censorship policies, and doing its own thing with Sony, with a great deal more freedom to write as they pleased. The party design also stands out, which each character having their own unique function in the party while the Materia concept allows a degree of modular skills to be installed, customizing them in ways that, in my opinion, the best entries in the franchise (on a gameplay level) would revisit. Colossal Cave Adventure: I'll be honest; I never played this game, and I don't believe it's particularly familiar to me at all. However, I chose it for this vaunted spot in S-rank because games of this nature, of text-based prompt and responses, are some of the most interesting things imaginable! Games like AI Dungeon are similar in some respects, and its impressive to think just how dang old this game is, and yet it managed to pull off basically being it's own DM. It has an interesting history; created by a man who worked on the precursor to the Internet, the game was made to connect with his daughter and was inspired by recent entries into Dungeons And Dragons, and later expanded upon by other programmers. It's notable that while Zork is the sort of game that would probably involve more immediate recognition (I actually mistook it for Zork at first, from the screenshot), this game was the first of its kind, and that always deserve some recognition. Minecraft: I absolutely LOVE Minecraft, and it's rightfully one of the most popular games, if not THE most popular game, of the last couple of decades, and it's interesting to think just how unconventional it is; the game is, effectively, a LEGO simulator, and as someone who honestly always wanted tons of LEGO sets as a kid but could never afford them consistently, there's something genuinely very appealing about Minecraft's basic set up. It's open approach and lack of a goal, just gameplay mechanics that encourage you to build and do as you please, makes for a very relaxing and unusual mentality not often seen in games until this point; it doesn't even have a storyline, it simply gives you a world to play around in. Of note, Minecraft's entry seems to have relevance towards video games becoming a cultural touchstone; Minecraft's visual aesthetic leans towards both blocky LEGOs and retro graphics, and certainly proves that games don't need to strive for hyper realistic graphics to be appealing. ----- A RANK Doom: I genuinely like Doom, a lot! I still have memories of replaying this game frequently, long before Doom 2016 and Eternal were glimmers; it's just genuinely very fun to play. That said, I feel that there's other games that are a bit more historically notable and while i like this game, not quite as much as other entries. But it cant be understated that this was THE first person shooter, and more to the point, was fundamental towards game design as we know it. Of note, it pioneered the idea of a game engine, which has had tremendous impact down the road in terms of making a flexible baseline system that latergames were programmed around. Additionally, the first three episodes being free, with the additional ones being purchased as part of the full game, this was, I think, the first demonstration of a demo. Back then, we called this shareware; a game which was free but had full features locked off, but otherwise you could play it however much you wanted. There's a REASON Doom winds up on more systems than Skyrim! Ultimately, while it's not one of my favorite games, it's impact on the business of gaming and the functions of game design cannot be overstated. Pac-Man: This game, is THE game that made video games a phenomenon and its worth thinking about that and how video games as a modern institituion can be drawn, however broadly, from Pac-Man's commercial success. I should note that while I've played this game extensively, it's not something I'm particularly good at; there's a LOT going on here and its a bit much for me to handle. That's probably a strength; there's a reason people had to fake their accomplishments and falsified high scores. It's worth noting that Pac-Man is a unique thing in that it has been rereleased many times over, and every generation has found it enjoyable and fun, unlike other games that set trends only to be lost out in the end. (Goldeneye, for instance!) The Oregon Trail: Like many other people I assume, I first played this game as something available on school computers. Purportedly made as an educational game to teach students about history, this game may be notable for, among other things, being an entry point towards the idea of resource management in video games (as well as being hellishly difficult, by the standards then, but that DOES illustrate a point, does it not?). It's also the oldest, most continuously available game ever made, even now being ported to smartphones, or so I hear! It seems to be a very early example of edutainment games, and a genuinely great one at that. It probably helps that a selling point is that it doesn't really mince around with its subject matter; anyone who's played this game knows that total party kill is the default assumption, as it was in life. Street Fighter and Mortal Kombat: I place these two together as I feel that they form a duo of sorts, and defined fighting games of my childhood and modern gaming experience; name a fighting game, from Injustice to something as deliberately different as Smash Bros, and it has SOME relation to these games, even if its in terms of doing something completely different. These games set a mold for fighting games! Among other things, both games feature iconic characters as a selling point, and to this day fighting games make their mark based on how signature their characters are. Mortal Kombat is of course an incredibly violent game (though very tame, by modern standards), and its fatalities and depicitons of violence sparked thought and arguments on what video games ought to be allowed to depict, for better or for worse. It's not implausible to suggest that the overly strict restrictions on what video games could depict go back to Mortal Kombat's fatalities, specifically (since there's far worse games predating it, though too graphically primitive to be obvious). Street Fighter, conversely, strikes me as having more characterization and depth, especially as far as fighting systems go; I find it hard to be interested in many fighting games now, if they don't offer as much depth as the likes of Street Fighter 2. Street Fighter stands out for innovating multiplayer play, initially in the arcade, and its not implausible to say that the likes of Smash Bros is a descendant of sorts of the specific mentality Street Fighter brought to the table. Consider also that it is STILL a mainstay in the remaining arcades and cabinets in service today! Tomb Raider: This is a game i legit liked back in the day, and there's some part of me that's sad that the platforming, puzzle solving and focus on exploration has not really made it back into the modern Tomb Raider series, last I checked. There's probably something interesting in that Lara Croft represents a bit of an intermediate period between platforming mascots and modern Edgy Protagonists; you know the ones. Balding white dudes with vague dad vibes, but this is not a slight on Lara; she definitely has a ton of personality, even just at a cover glance. This game had a strong focus on exploration, and that's honestly something I really like. Super Mario Kart: I'm going to be controversial here; complaints about the Blue Shell are kinda overrated. It's not that different from, say, a red shell hitting you from behind when you're close to the finish line. But, jokes and old 90s memes aside, this game has some interesting status in that it started the idea of making spin-off games in dramatically different contexts; Crash Team Racing and Sonic Drift, for example, are listened as similar games. On a franchise level, this began the trend of Mario becoming a truly flexible character who could do pretty much whatever was required of him, not just the original platforming games, and its possible his imitators never quite learned the same lesson. Though one wonders what Miyamoto might have thought if he'd known how many thinkpieces he would spawn with 'why does mario go-karting with Bowser when they're enemies?'. For my part, I favor the idea that the other games are in-universe fictions they're actors on and this is their actual dynamic, or that Mario is a relaxed dude who doesn't mind playing kart games with his foe. (I mean, he's not Ridley. Bowser's easy enough to get along with.) Animal Crossing: Again, I have to emphasize that I've never actually played this game, at least on a consistent basis (and by that, I mean I MIGHT have played it on the Gamecube, once, in the early 2000s), and have to speak from what I've seen of what it sparked. And I really do like the way it really codified the sub-genre of relaxed, open-ended games where the player is free to do as they like, without much stress or fear, which is something I think more games could stand to do. On my personal list of features that my ideal video game would have, Animal Crossing would definitely offer a few ideas. I am reminded of farming simulators, such as Harvest Moon or Stardew Valley; while they are different beasts entirely, there's a familiar sense of non-combat relaxation that's pleasant to see. Spacewar!: This machine is GODDAMN old, and like an old fogey predating modern humans, it deserves our respect. It's so old, it predates Pong. Supposedly created as part of predictative Cold War models, with an emphasis on emulating sci fi dogfights, producing a game that soon proved popular, for over a decade remainign the most popular game on computer systems, and a clumsy foray into arcade gaming (that didn't pan out, unfortunately) led to the creation of Pong by its creator, which is another story all its own! And Pong is directly responsible for the idea of the video game itself; this game launched the entire video game industry as we understand it! No small feat, indeed. ----

B RANKED Sonic The Hedgehog: I must state that I DO like this game, though not as much as later entires like Sonic 3 and Knuckles, or the Sonic Adventure series; the fast paced action seems a bit hobbled by the traps and need to be careful of surroundings, which would seem to run counter towards the whole idea of GOTTA GO FAST, y'know? But the game presents an interesting viewpoint on the nature of mascot gaming; created specifically, so it is said, as a rival to Mario, Sonic was designed as a mascot with attitude, and inspired a host of imitators; he's probably the only one to escape the 90s more or less intact, and this may have something to say about his flexibility, star power, and also the fact that he's a pretty mild character, all things considered. This game certainly has its place in gaming history, giving an important place in the console wars of yesteryear. Believe me, I was a kid in the 90s, Sonic was a HUGE deal. Space Invaders: This game is noted to have catapulted games into prominence by making them household, something outside of arcades, and it shows! An interesting detail of note is that supposedly, the Space Invaders were meant to all move at high speed, but this was either too hard to play against, or too costly on the processor; it was found that by making them speed up as they were defeated, it created an interesting set of challenge. You have to appreciate game history like that. In general, its success prompted Japanese companies to join the market, which would eventually produce what I imagine was a thriving, competitive market that would eventually get us Nintendo and it's own gamechangers down the road. Grant Theft Auto 3: I'm going to be honest with you. I don't much care for this sort of game. The Saints Row series, with its fundamental wackiness, is the kind of game I really DO like if I'm going for something like this, and GTA sort of leaning towards the 'cruel for fun and profit' gameplay is really unappealing for me. However, I'd be remiss if I didn't address this game, and what seems to come up is two things: the game's sheer freedom in its open world (which certainly pushed the bar for games of that nature, and has made it a byword for gamers screwing around in a game just to see what ridiculous things they could or couldn't do) and the infamous reputation from the mature aspects of the game. Personally, I'm not much for this game's take on maturity (if I wanted to discuss a game of that nature, I'd suggest, say, Spec Ops: The Line) but I really do appreciate what this game and its series did for the open world genre, and the sheer possibilities presented for letting you do what you wanted. King's Quest: I've never played this game, but I am a HUGE fan of the point and click genre (also known generally as the adventure game genre) that it spawned; without this game, there's no Monkey Island, no Sam and Max, no The Dig or Full Throttle, or Gabriel Knight. This game was similar to previous text-based games, with a text parser to input commands, but with the distinction of a graphical interface to move their character around, which would be the seed of later games such as the SCUMM engine of Monkey Island and other Lucasarts games (which, to me, ARE Adventure Gaming). The puzzles, comedic sensibilities, and interface innovations originated with this game, and codified those later adventure games i love so much. Starcraft: This is another one those list of 'games I should have already played by now'. I'm not much of an RTS person, barring forays with games such as Impossible Creatures, Warhammer 40k: Dawn of War, and more strange entries such as Brutal Legend, and I contend that the combat aspects of 4X games like Civilization DO count on some level; the specifics of troop movement and unit strengths/weaknesses are a bit beyond me, when you get to more complex stuff. Starcraft, reading between the lines, really introduced the idea of multiplayer culture especially for RTS, pioneered the Battle(dot)net system (which I mostly recall from Diablo, if I'm being honest!) as well as the idea of relative strengths and powers for individual factions so that they became characters in their own right. It's still a very popular online game, and that says SOMETHING. Also, I tend to use zerg rushes, so I would probably play Zerg. Probably. (There is much speculation on whether or not, like Warcraft being a failed Warhammer Fantasy game, if the same holds true for Starcraft and Warhammer 40k. I lean on the side of 'probably not'; the differences are too notable. The Zerg and Tyranids have some similarties, but that's probably because they're based on the same broad hive mind evil insect aggressor trope, and they have enough differences from there to be very distinct from one another. It's not like how OG Warcraft's orcs were very obviously warhammer orcs with less football hooliganism.) Bejeweled: This is a firm case of a game that I don't play, but I really have to respect its influence on gaming as a whole. Apparently it started as a match three-type game with a simplistic formula that proved wildly popular (perhaps making a point that simpler can be more effective, in game mechanics), with a truly explosive record of downloads; over 500 million, it seems. Thus its fair to say that this game set the precedent for casual games, which have become THE market. Regardless of your feelings on that genre, this one was a real game changer. (Pun intended, absolutely.) ----

C RANK Pong: "By most measures of popular impact, Pong launched the video game industry." This line alone saws it all, I think. It wasn't the first video game, but it was one of the more early ones, and its the one that really made video games and consoles successful, gaining widespread attention from the mainstream audience, as well as getting Atari recognition (for better or for worse, but perhaps that was just a development of being on top, so to speak; maye the console wars at least kept the big three honest). It also started the arcade revolution of games, and this humble game is essentially responsible for the entire state of video games as a concept, as we know it today. Halo: No disrespect to Halo, but it's just a game series I've never quite been able to get into. Those games are very hit and miss for me; games like Call of Duty, Battlefield, Gears of War and everything like that are just... hard for me to get into. It takes something specific like Borderlands or the Besthesda Fallout series, or something else, for me to get hooked, and Halo just doesn't do it for me! Nevertheless, I would be QUITE remiss if I simply dismissed it, and there's reasons for it to be inducted into the hall of fame barely three years into the hall of fame making inductees. Firstly, it was Microsoft's big entry into the console wars, and it must be said this was a MASSIVE upset and a completely unprecedented shift in the assumptions of the console wars back then; NO ONE expected microsoft to actually do this, let alone redefine gaming out of Sony and Nintendo's favor like that. At the time, PCs dominated FPS games, and Halo showed that consoles could do it just fine. It must also be said that it has a very intricate and complex system of lore, backstory and material that was quite distinctive for a new setting back in the day, and while I've seen people object to it's gameplay, I suspect that its with the benefit of hindsight; Halo offered an extremely unusual degree of freedom in achieving the goals set out for you. (Cortana also didn't deserve getting her name slapped onto that search assistant that eats up all your RAM.) Where In The World Is Carmen San Diego: Surprisignly enough, based on the article, this game was NOT an adaptation, but the source material of this character. This is where the fancy, mystery lady in the red coat started! Evidently this game was originally an edutainment game with a cops and robbers theme, and inspired by Colossal Cave Adventure from higher up on the list, and one must appreciate the effort that went into it. This one is ranked low, mostly because it didn't seem TOO notable to me. Honestly I'm surprised this is where Carmen Sandiego started. (And that she doesn't get enough credit as an iconic theatrical villain who won't go a step too far, but that's another rant.) -

D LIST

Here we are. The D LIST. The bottom of the sorting pile; the lowest of them all, the... well, the ones that I honestly don't necessarily dislike, but couldn't place higher for reasons of notability, personal interest, or perceived impact on the history of gaming. John Madden Football: Sports games, as a whole, really do NOT do it for me. I don't like real like sports at ALL (with, as a kid, a brief interest in boxing and that was just because they had gloves like Knuckles from Sonic the Hedgehog) so its hard for me to say that I find the history of this one all that compelling. Even so, there's some interesting elements in how this game was a sequel to a previous failed attempt, with a bold new attempt at a more arcade-style action game with a more dramatic take on the players, who would in turn be rated in different skill sets. The Madden series is STILL going so... it worked out pretty well, I'd say. (FUCKIN EA WAS BEHIND THIS ONE??? wow, EA is older than I thought.) Microsoft Flight Simulator: It's honestly a bit painful sorting this one so low, since I had many happy times as a wee Johnny playing this game back in the old days. I mean the OLD, old days. This was like, the days when Usenet was the preferred way for people to talk online. (Not me, though. I didn't talk to people, then. I was even less social than I am now, which is saying something!) All the same, I suppose that it was important to not crowd too many entries in a specific folder, and statistically, something had to keep getting knocked down, and in the end, I couldn't honestly say I still enjoyed this one enough to place it higher. Still, credit must be given where it is due; this game stands out for being an early foray into simulator gaming, showing a realistic depiction of actual flight. It has apparently been updated and rereleased many times since, which is impressive! Tetris: I like puzzles. So it might be surprising to hear this seminal game ranked so low; firstly, I like different KINDS of puzzles (like weird ones where you have to fling your sense of logic to the moon and back, or make use of gaming mechanics) and honestly this game is kind of stressful for me. You gotta keep an eye on a lot of different things flying around all at once, and constantly move things around, and that kind of attention and quick thinking does NOT come easily to me. All the same, I really have to admire how it was born from it's creator's pleasure in solving mathematical puzzles about sorting shapes into boxes, in a manner strangely remniscient of Satoshi's bug collecting that became Pokemon. Certainly the game's simplicity has proven a universally appealing thing, and may say something about the value of keeping it simple. Microsoft Solitaire: This game apparently became pay-to-get some time ago in recent computer generations, and let me tell, you, it was genuinely depressing to find that out. I remember younger decades, from the 90s and on, when this game was a regular and free feature in Windows computers fir MANY years. You got a computer, this game was on here. I was a kid, and i remember watching my mom play this game and makign the cards go WHOOP WHOPP all over the place and marveling, because I couldn't ever do the same thing. (A related note: I am terrible at this game. Go figure!) Of note, this game was massively widespread, and just EVERYWHERE, and I think everyone who ever played a computer back in those days instantly remembers it in some way. It was just... ubiquitous. Centipede: Oh, ol' Centipede. I don't mean to be mean to you. But between the likes of Pokemon and Super Mario Bros, even the arcade Donkey Kong, someone had to keep dropping down the leaderboard that is this tierlist, and unfortunately, there were other games that felt higher up than you. All the same, you're a very good game, and honestly, I like you more than some other games ranked higher for reasons of relevance to gaming history. Certainly more than anything else in D-listing. The colorful and appealing palette is noteworthy. That trackball controller! Amazing! (More games should use trackballs. They're fun and easy to use.) At the very least, Order of the Stick did a joke with you once, and that's better than anything I can do for you. All the same, you're a cool game.

[aphrodites-law]

A Bit of Clarity 🍂 (1/?) The visions had started last autumn, a year ago now. It had caused a bit of chaos for some, a bit of clarity for others. Two days ago, Clarke Griffin had been perfectly fine managing both her Café and her stress. But now she was curious - so deeply curious about the vision of herself entwined with the aloof Lexa Woods that it was leading her to complete distraction.

The visions had started the last autumn, a year ago now. It had caused a bit of chaos for some, a bit of clarity for others. It all depended on what had been seen - what had been interpreted. Some had brief flashes while others were put in a trance for over a minute. A minute was the longest heard of, though it was difficult to establish who was telling the truth and who was out for attention.

Regardless, the duration of the vision itself was now known to be of no consequence. A woman who had been told she was infertile had had a four-second vision of herself pregnant, while an old man who had been in the trance for fifty-five seconds had relayed that he'd only seen his wife and him sitting peacefully on the porch of their home. Magnitude was relative. What the visions had done, in a world stagnating in such hopelessness, was offer glimpses of sunshine.

But the visions did not come all at once. Amid the flurry of testimonies, out of all the social media posts, the frenzied calls and the hurried articles, there were still voices that bemoaned being left out. There was no precise age, no time, no pattern to the visions. The only established commonality seemed to be a tingling down one's spine, like a sudden shiver after a strong gust of wind. The feeling of knowing a vision was coming was difficult to explain. Suddenly the world and its noises faded, replaced with vivid images - and for some not even visuals, but rather intense sensations. A well-known story already was that of a blind man in Kenya who had felt himself dipping his hands in a pot of paint. The sensation had been so powerful that he had been driven to recreate it, subsequently gifting the world with breathtaking abstract murals.

Those still on the outskirts of the phenomenon had reason to be disappointed, but the general consensus was that they were lucky to experience it. Nostalgia often gripped those who had had their glimpses - heard in their wishful sighs when they conversed with the people who had yet to see anything at all. Celebrations erupted when one emerged from their visions - strangers smiling at them knowingly, patting them on the back, asking what they had seen and listening with rapt attention. The excitement surrounding it had yet to fade, and with good reason. It was something to unite the world, something in common that existed beyond time and space, beyond science and faith and knowledge. Something no one understood and yet accepted as such - a great unknown to fully embrace.

There were of course the skeptics and the cynics - those that warned that knowing a certain outcome in the future immediately changed it, thus rendering the visions meaningless. But the main response, supported by some cases already, was that it wasn't necessarily the future that was seen, but rather an obtainable possibility among a thousand other ones. Rather remarkably, doomsayers found few platforms interested in their diatribes. The world had had enough of fear.

* * *

In the sleepy city of Costial, mostly known for its rain and the state's oldest chocolate factory, the citizens had seen many changes in the past year. Some said the fabric of their culture had been inevitably altered for the better, while others shrugged their shoulders and went back to their lives. A few vision reader shops had popped up just like they had in most countries; a lucrative business for those in search of deeper understanding. Where some visions were clear in their intent, others raised many questions. It was the vocation of these readers to answer them, though many people questioned how a year could suddenly form these so-called experts.  

It was in one of these shops that Clarke Griffin found herself one morning, nervously drumming her fingers over her thigh while she waited in a small room. She wasn't entirely sure what she was doing there, only that her vision had come very unexpectedly two nights ago and that she hadn’t slept since. With sleep deprivation came questionable choices, such as this one.

Clarke hadn’t really worried when news of the visions broke and she had yet to get hers. A year ago she had just opened her café, a process that had kept her far too busy to think about anything that wasn't money, food, and customer satisfaction. Oh she paid close attention to the news, as it was impossible not to, and she spoke about it with anyone who brought it up over their coffee and pastries, but she didn't worry. Clarke wasn't a worrier. Until two days ago, that was.

Her vision wasn't really… the sort of thing one shared. Well, she'd read about similar ones, but frankly hers was more on the explicit side of things. She'd just curled up on her couch after devouring a grilled sandwich when her spine had suddenly tingled. The next thing she knew, pleasure spread through her body and she found herself in her own bed with a woman's body atop hers, tousled dark hair covering her face while Clarke kissed her with abandon. She'd seen and felt her own fingers pressing into a tattooed arm while her lover pressed deep inside her and sighed her name. It hadn't just been the heat of the encounter that had left a mark on Clarke, but the distinct sense of intimacy that had been overwhelmingly powerful. 

In the past year, sex had been more about stress relief than any type of connection. There had been a few dates, but Clarke had found herself restless. She didn't have the patience to court someone, not when all her energy went into the café she had finally opened after years of dreams and plans. It hadn’t been fair to her dates or the bags beneath her eyes, so falling into a pattern of one-night stands had seemed to work well enough. Clarke still liked sex entirely too much to give it up, sleep be damned (though her recent dry spell argued the contrary). Regardless, despite its graphic nature, her vision hadn’t been about sex. It had felt different; like something she couldn't put her finger on no matter how many times she thought about it.

Hence: the vision reader. But the wait was longer than Clarke had expected and the clock on the wall didn't help her nerves. Clarke didn't even know where she would start anyway. Should it be something small - maybe the meaning of the tattoo? Should it be the way she still felt the woman's phantom touch on her skin? Still heard her intentions while she kissed a path down her body? Not to mention the inexplicable feeling that she knew her lover, which was precisely why she knew there was just… no way… this vision could be remotely close to reality.

Clarke closed her eyes and sighed deeply. Two days ago she had been perfectly fine with her hectic schedule and the heavy weight on her shoulders, but now she was curious - so deeply curious about this feeling of being utterly consumed that it was leading her to complete distraction. And Clarke couldn't afford distractions; especially now that Finn's Coffee & Bagels had just made a move for her territory with his second shop in the city. It wasn't outright war yet but it would soon be, and Clarke wasn't going to be on the losing side.

With that thought in mind, and the grating sound of the ticking clock finally getting to her, Clarke grabbed her purse and left the shop.  

"To hell with it," she muttered before heading out.

* * *

The Baker's Café was Clarke's pride and joy; a labor of love and sweat and so many paper cuts she'd lost count of them. Monday mornings weren’t so difficult anymore, not when she only left the comfort of her bed for the comfort of her second home. She opened the café with her usual yawn, signed off on the early deliveries, and later chatted in the small kitchen with Wells, her best friend, co-owner and in her opinion the finest baker in the city. This week they were making apple tart and banana bread with walnuts, a favorite for many of their customers. Gaia joined them fifteen minutes before opening, where she helped Clarke with the tables as they caught up on the latest weekend news. Apparently Gaia had learned through the grapevine that Finn's Coffee & Bagels was courting a grocery store to sell his bagels for a share of the profits, but it was still in the early stages of negotiations.

Still, it didn't sit well with Clarke. Finn Collins was a smug daddy's boy and Clarke knew for a fact that his bagels came packaged and frozen to his shop. Unfortunately his father was the beloved mayor of their city, which was the equivalent of a ringing endorsement for most residents who only needed a quick, passable fix before work. Finn's business was thriving thanks to its name alone, but as far as Clarke was concerned the apple had fallen very far from the tree. She was certain Graham Collins knew very little about his son's actual business practices, but there was nothing to be done there. Now Clarke and Wells could only hope their menu and atmosphere kept their loyal customers from straying a few blocks down Elmond Street.

While Gaia opened the café, Clarke put on their background music, double-checked the coffee machines and added the first batch of their freshly baked goods in the display case - a basket of croissants, blueberry muffins, and cinnamon rolls next to the banana bread and apple tart. Just like the café itself, their display was on the smaller side - comfy, Wells said - but they had a rustic charm going for them that seemed to work well enough.

An hour after opening, Clarke had rung up a customer when she heard the door open and close. Her stomach did an awful swoop - caught between surprise and jitters when she saw that it was Lexa Woods who had just walked in. Surprise because Lexa didn't usually come in on Mondays, and jitters because it was Lexa who Clarke had shut out of her mind ever since her damn vision.

Lexa was a journalist at the Costial Gazette, but if she was a woman of words in writing, it was hardly the case in person. She was as buttoned up as the flannel shirts she wore come rain or shine, often beneath a sweater or blazer. She took her coffee black but grimaced at each sip, and come to think of it Clarke had never seen her smile. Lexa seemed scarcely interested in what went on in the shop around her, typing away on her laptop like a train on tracks, fast and with a known destination in mind. Sometimes she got up to stretch her legs or order another slice of the cake of the week, but when she regained her seat her fingers were back to their manic typing, as if she had merely put a pin in her line of thought.

Last week, Lexa had been no different than any other customer. She made it clear she was here to work, and beyond the usual hello and order, Lexa didn't exactly put out a signal that she wanted to converse. So Clarke stuck to her own smile and politeness and thought nothing of it. On some rare occasions she noticed that Lexa and Gaia spoke briefly, but Gaia was Indra Keene's daughter - Lexa's landlord - and so they were slightly more acquainted. According to Gaia, who gossiped with Wells far too much about their customers, Lexa was Indra's favorite tenant. She lived in the only studio on the fourth floor with a small balcony crammed with plants, never made a fuss and had somehow managed to get on Indra's good side after only six months, a feat that Gaia seemed to find particularly impressive. Apparently it took a lot to impress her mother, let alone become her friend. It was a complete mystery to her how Lexa, who always seemed so serious, had managed it.

Now Clarke found herself drawn into the mystery as well, the result of a vision she could swear Lexa had been a part of. Yes, it had been her features she'd recognized - light eyes looking up at her from between her legs, full lips whispering a dirty promise against her thigh, and slender hands reaching for hers. It wasn't as clear to Clarke now, but it had been when the vision had ended and she'd jolted up from her couch. She'd been so certain it was Lexa  - but was it? The more Clarke thought about it, the less it made sense. 

Watching her approach the counter now, sporting her usual tight bun and a green flannel shirt, Clarke just couldn't reconcile this woman with the one from her vision. Lexa was beautiful, there was no doubt, but… It was just that Clarke had never considered the possibility of Lexa being remotely interested. She was perhaps the exact definition of aloof - and was she even attracted to women? Sometimes when she looked at Clarke it felt like she did it with the same interest as someone staring at a blank piece of paper. So how could it be that this woman would one day make her toes curl and her voice crack between pleas for more?

"Good morning."

Mildly startled, Clarke pushed every single thought at the back of her mind before she greeted Lexa in turn. Lexa glanced at the menu written in chalk and pulled out her wallet.

"I'll just have your regular brew and a slice of the apple, please."

"Coming right up," Clarke replied.

While she made the coffee and grabbed a plate for the slice of pie, Clarke tried to think of anything she might say. Lexa was looking at her phone now, but Clarke was determined to at least make some small talk. She had to get to the bottom of this before it drove her nuts. 

"Busy week?" She casually asked.

Lexa looked up from her phone and blinked at her, perhaps just as surprised as Clarke by the spark of conversation.

"Not really," she replied.

It didn't leave much room for a follow-up, and so Clarke offered a smile before sliding the pie and cup of coffee on the counter. Lexa didn't look at Clarke again, but she left a generous tip in the jar as she usually did and then sat at the table by the weeping fig tree Wells was so proud of. Clarke took the next customer's order and cast Lexa out of her mind, ignoring her sudden disappointment. Apparently she wasn't even worth a second glance.

A while later, while Clarke took advantage of the lull for a break at the end of the counter, she opened her notebook and allowed her mind to drift a bit. It had been an eventful weekend and she hadn’t really stopped to think about the actual experience of the vision. The content was still confusing, but she was finally a part of the world's most impactful phenomenon and that was something. She understood it now. And yet she couldn't think of a way to share it with either Wells or Gaia, let alone celebrate it. Theirs had been so innocent. For Wells, it had been a powerful embrace with his estranged father, one that he had yet to experience but certainly had hopes for. For Gaia, it had been a conversation with an esteemed author thanking her for a novel she would one day write. It had been hope. So truthfully Clarke was a bit miffed that she’d witnessed herself having the best sex of her life and couldn’t share it with anyone, not even her supposed partner. There had to be some sort of missing piece there - maybe a punchline. 

"Those are good."

Her heart jumped in her throat at Lexa's voice. Clarke dropped her pencil on the sheet of paper she had been mindlessly doodling on, embarrassed that she'd been caught. They were just drawings to occupy her mind - sketches from everyday trivial things like the café's various plants or the mugs hanging above the sink. She smiled nervously and reached for Lexa's empty plate.

"All done?" She asked.

Lexa nodded and then watched as Clarke put the plate in the sink. "Do you know the kids' stories in the Gazette?"

Clarke turned around with a mild frown. Lexa had never once asked her anything since she'd first walked in six months ago. She was so caught up in the fact that she barely remembered the question itself - something about the paper?

"The what?"

"Pages 24, 25. They're short stories, mostly about animals. We had an intern illustrating them, but he got a full-time opportunity at an advertising firm. It doesn't pay much, but it gets your work out there."

Clarke blinked, at first in surprise - Lexa, talking, conversing - and then in confusion. "I'm not an artist," she said. "They're just doodles."

"I see." Lexa bit her lip before pulling out a printed copy of the Gazette from her briefcase and leaving it on the counter. "It's just two pages, no color. Feel free to leaf through it."

Curiosity got the best of Clarke, who reached for the magazine. "It's monthly, right?” She asked. 

"Hm-mm. Well, the print is. The website breaks news daily."

Clarke looked up and waited, wondering if Lexa was going to add anything. "Right. I think I've got the app somewhere on my phone."

"That's good." Lexa glanced between Clarke and the Gazette before checking her watch. "I should get going."

"Okay. Thank you for the free copy."

For a moment Clarke thought she might finally know what a smile looked like on her, but Lexa only offered a slow nod before she left the café. Clarke stared at the door a minute, wondering if she had just made up the entire interaction in her head. 

She closed the notebook and shook her head, deciding in that very instant to answer her own earlier question: no, there was absolutely no way that it was Lexa Woods who would ever embrace her that tightly.

[part two]

[psychosistr]

Mending the Broken- Chapter 2

Summary:  Jonathan and Speedwagon venture further into Dio's trap, but find themselves in a bizarre situation they couldn't have foreseen.

Notes:  Mild warning this chapter for some slightly gory visual descriptions, but nothing to far off from the canon content.

-First Chapter-

The tunnel seemed almost endless. The pair had been walking for what felt like hours, and, with no view of the sky to judge the passage of time, very well could have been. They ran out of oil in the lantern and were forced to simply let their eyes adjust to the darkness. Despite the darkness and the generally unpleasant aroma of the cave, though, there were no other hindrances. It was quite strange…

“Oi, Mr.Joestar..” Speedwagon stopped to brace his hand against the wall of the tunnel, looking a bit unsteady on his feet. “Sorry..but..mind if we stop a spell? I dunno why..but me ‘ead’s killin’ me..”

Jonathan nodded in understanding and walked over to his friend’s side, gently rubbing his back. “Of course. My apologies, I should have thought of that sooner- you did suffer a concussion, after all. It must be painful, even with the damage healed.”

Speedwagon shook his head slightly, rubbing at his eyes. “No, it’s not like that..it’s almost..heavy? Feels odd..” He looked up at Jonathan and he finally took notice of the dilation in the other’s brown eyes.

Jonathan gasped in realization. He sniffed the air, really taking in the aroma of the cave and it only confirmed his fears. “The air..it’s laced with something..!” He looked down at his hands and realized how hard it was to concentrate on them- his vision doubling slightly around the edges when he focused his eyes on any finer details at all. “We’ve already fallen into their trap!”

The two looked up in alarm when they heard a skittering sound within the darkness. “!!”

Speedwagon reached for his hat, trying to stand up straight. “I’ll ‘old ‘em off, Mr.Joestar! You try t’ get out!”

Jonathan got into a defensive stance of his own, trying to draw in enough air to charge his hamon, but it was proving difficult with whatever was weighing down the air getting into his lungs. “I am not going to leave you on your own!”

Speedwagon turned to him with a stern expression. “I’m already infected with whatever’s in ‘ere! You’ve got a better chance of escapin’ than I do!” He broke into a coughing fit, his body trying to expel the foreign substance from his lungs.

Jonathan frowned and, ignoring his friend’s startled exclamation, picked him up and started running. “We shall get through this together, Speedwagon!”

Speedwagon tried to say something else, likely to fuss at him for not doing as he asked, but he only ended up coughing again and holding his head with a pained groan. “Damn it..Jojo..’m not..worth it..jus..go..!”

Jonathan only held his companion tighter as he ran, determined to reach the end of the tunnel despite the sounds growing louder around them. He caught glimpses of something out of the corner of his eye every now and then, but it moved too fast for him to properly pinpoint its location for long.

Jonathan came to a split in the tunnel and, not having many options, ran to the right in hopes that it would be the way out. His hopes were dashed against the proverbial and literal rocks when he came to a dead end. Damn it all!

He glanced back over his shoulder, hearing the enemy drawing ever closer. However, the mere act of turning his head was causing waves of dizziness to hit him faster than ever. He would not be able to fight properly like this, darn it. He attempted a hamon breath once more, able to keep a little bit of his breath in his lungs before he felt the tremor of a cough building within him. The breath was only enough to build up a small amount of hamon, he would have to make it count.

Keeping one arm braced around Speedwagon, Jonathan closed his eyes and charged the bit of hamon he’d gathered to his other hand. “….” He waited, listening carefully to the movements drawing closer. Then, he heard it- something crawling along the walls before jumping in their direction. “Zoom Punch!!” It was weaker than the usual version of his attack, but it was just enough to take down the small creature with ease.

After it fell, Jonathan was finally able to see that it was some sort of small, monstrous, mixed up animal that looked like a large cave bat with a human head and, oddly enough, small flowers blooming from its back. The flowers had a pinkish hue and, although he was no botanist, Jonathan still recognized the blooms: Belladonna, the devil’s cherries, also known as deadly nightshade. Even though the creature was defeated, the flowers continued emitting an unnatural scent into the air, more so then should have naturally been possible.

Jonathan tried to remain standing, but the dizziness was proving too difficult to ignore. Then, it happened- his legs gave out from under him.

He managed to hold onto Speedwagon as they fell, landing on his back with the blond cradled protectively against his chest. As consciousness began to leave him, Jonathan held tight to his friend, doing his best to keep him nearby and hoping beyond hope that Baron Zeppeli would find them before the rest of Dio’s minions did.

___________________________________________________________

Jonathan opened his eyes to a bleary, gray nothingness. He couldn’t tell where he was and had the odd feeling of weightlessness, as if he were floating. He attempted to sit up and found himself in a standing position instead, his feet still not touching anything.

“Where..am I..?” He asked himself as he looked around. Then, he heard it- voices. He looked towards the voices and saw an all too familiar head of blond hair. “Ah! Speedwagon!” He tried to walk towards his dear friend, but found he was stuck in place. “Strange, why can’t I-?” His query was forgotten in favor of a new one once he noticed the person that Speedwagon was talking to. “Wait..is that..ME..?”

Indeed it was: Speedwagon was talking to the spitting image of Jonathan, the two smiling as they discussed something that Jonathan couldn’t quite make out at first. As he focused on listening, though, he realized this was a conversation that he’d had with Speedwagon a few days before embarking on their trip to defeat Dio:

Jonathan chuckled as Speedwagon finished speaking. “You do always have the best stories, Speedwagon.”

Speedwagon grinned broadly, clearly glad he was able to offer Jonathan some form of entertainment to lighten his mood. “I’ve got a million of ‘em! Anytime ya wanna ‘ear ‘em, just give ol’ Speedwagon a call!”

“I certainly shall.” Jonathan smiled more before a thought crossed his mind. “Speedwagon..tell me..do you really plan to come with Baron Zeppeli and myself on our mission? You know neither of us would hold it against you if you decided not to come- you would be in a great amount of danger, and I would hate to see something happen to you because of me.”

Speedwagon gave the larger man a troubled frown. “Ya tryin’ t’ say ya don’ want me comin’ with ya?”

Jonathan quickly shook his head. “No, not at all! Of course I WANT you to come with us, I merely wanted to make sure that was what YOU wanted as well. I wouldn’t want you coming along simply because you felt obligated. You are quite dear to me, Speedwagon, and I would hate to lose you in any way.”

Something briefly passed through Speedwagon’s eyes, something tender and insecure and uncertain, but as soon as it was there, it was gone,  replaced with a calm, resolute smile. “You’re important t’ me too, Mr.Joestar. I came int’ this whole mess with y’, and I plan on leavin’ the same way. Besides, I can’t just leave a monster like that t’ run amok, now can I? It’d put you an’ all me mates back on Ogre Street in a right bad spot.”

The desire to protect those you care about- Jonathan could certainly relate to that.

“I understand.” He offered the other man a warm smile in return. “Truthfully, I feel very much the same way about the whole matter: I think of how leaving Dio out in the world could put the people I care about, such as you and Erina, in danger, and how I cannot let that happen. I could not bear to lose either of you.”

Speedwagon’s smile turned a bit sad at the edges- that look in his eyes changing again. “That’s ‘bout what I’d expect from a man like YOU0, Mr.Joestar. But ya should probably put Erina a bit higher than me- she’s the one you’re plannin’ t’ stay with forever, right?”

Jonathan missed the saddened tone in his friend’s voice completely, a dreamy look coming across his face at the thought of Erina’s beautiful smile. “If all goes well and we defeat Dio, then yes, I would very much like to ask for her hand in marriage so that I may spend the rest of my life by her side.”

Speedwagon’s smile remained just a little sad but he tried forcing it into a larger grin. “I’m sure she’ll say yes. You’re an amazin’ man, Mr.Joestar- a true gentleman that anyone in this world would be lucky t’ ‘ave.”

Jonathan looked back down at his friend. “Thank you, Speedwagon. Your words give me hope and courage for what lies ahead. Whether it be undead monsters or dealing with Erina, it all seems easier with you by my side.” He finally took notice of the other man’s forced smile, causing his own to fall slightly. “Speedwagon? Is something wrong?”

Speedwagon shook his head and kept that smile firmly in place. “I’m fine, Mr.Joestar- nothin’ t’ worry ‘bout.”

Jonathan wanted to pry and ask more, but felt it would be rude to do so and trusted Speedwagon to tell him if something was truly bothering him. “Very well then, if you say so.”

Jonathan looked between the dream version of himself and Speedwagon. Had that really been the face Speedwagon made at the time? The tone in his voice? How had he missed such obvious sorrow? How had he just dismissed his dearest friend’s pain so easily?

He cared very deeply for Speedwagon. When thinking of the most important people in his life, Speedwagon was, without fail, always at the top of his list- right beside Erina in his heart. Some would find it odd for him to hold a man of such low social status in the same regard as a beautiful noble woman such as Erina, but Jonathan did not care- he loved each of them in his own way. The thought of ever being the cause of Speedwagon’s unhappiness troubled Jonathan greatly and-

Jonathan blinked in surprise at himself. “Wait..did I really just think of the word love in regards to Speedwagon..?” He’d never really payed it much thought before, but, in a way, it made sense. ‘Surely, he is kind, brave, clever, and I do greatly enjoy his companionship and love him dearly..but..do I..love him as I love Erina..?”

That thought perplexed him to no end. He knew that some men were capable of loving other men, and he certainly had no problem with it as long as both parties were happy, but he’d never really held feelings for another man himself before. Then again, throughout his life, he’d never really fallen for any women other than Erina, either, so he could not truly say that he only found women attractive.

Perhaps he was more attracted to certain personality traits rather than a particular gender? That would certainly make sense. After all, both Erina and Speedwagon were kind hearted, brave, strong in their convictions, intelligent, and charming in their own unique ways. When he thought of it that way, it was much easier to rationalize being attracted to both of them.

Still, even after admitting to his own attractions, what did that make him? An adulterer? An unfaithful ingrate towards Erina? And what of Speedwagon? How would he feel to know his close friend harbored secret thoughts and feelings for him? Would he-?

The sound of clicking heels drawing closer drew Jonathan’s attention back to the dream versions of himself and Speedwagon. Oddly enough, he saw Erina approaching them.

“Strange..” Jonathan muttered to himself as he watched the dream versions of himself and his two beloveds interacting. “Erina was not there that day..so, why would she be here now?”

He observed them, the dream version of himself giving Speedwagon an apologetic smile while Speedwagon merely put on that same forced smile from earlier and waved him off towards Erina. His dream self smiled and walked away with Erina, taking her hand in his and smiling adoringly at her.

Jonathan almost smiled at the site, but was startled when he looked back at the remaining member of the trio. “Speedwagon..?”

The blond was still smiling, waving farewell to the dream versions of Jonathan and Erina, but lines had started forming on his face under his eyes- cracks, Jonathan soon realized, as they split down his face like he was made of glass. He lowered his hand once the other two dream-versions were gone and his smile fell with it. More cracks began splintering off from the corners of his mouth, forming a twisted, disturbing facsimile of his earlier smile. He brought one hand to his face and covered it, sobbing quietly into his palm as more cracks formed- some further splitting his cheeks and jaw as if they were the paths that wet tears would take when cascading down his face, while another, much larger crack, began to form over his chest above his heart.

“Speedwagon?!” Jonathan tried to reach him again, but found he was still stuck in place. Nonetheless, he tried to call out to the other in an attempt to ease his pain. “Speedwagon, please, look at me! I’m here for you! What’s wrong?! Please, talk to me! Speedwagon!”

Speedwagon just barely lifted his head, starting to look towards Jonathan. But, Jonathan quickly noticed, something was wrong with his eyes. Rather than their usual lively state, they looked empty and hollow. He opened his mouth as if to say something, presumably to Jonathan, but was halted when a hand suddenly and forcefully plunged itself into the crack that had formed on his chest.

Jonathan’s eyes widened in alarm as the hand pulled back out, shattering Speedwagon’s chest open like a stone breaking through a stained-glass window and leaving a large, gaping hole in his torso. The hand was coated in blood as it retracted through the hole and, in its palm, it clutched Speedwagon’s still beating heart that was connected to the broken opening by its many veins and aortas- beating out a frantic rhythm as Speedwagon fell to his knees.

“SPEEDWAGON!!!” Jonathan struggled against his invisible bonds, now clearly feeling something tight around his neck, but the restraints would still not yield.

The being to whom the hand belonged came into view and Jonathan’s heart ignited with protective rage at the sight of his adopted brother smirking cruelly at him while holding his beloved friend’s heart in his hand.

“Dio!!! Get away from him!! Leave him alone!!!!!”

Dio only laughed cruelly at him and rose the quivering organ to his lips and, while maintaining eye contact with Jonathan throughout the process, devoured the other blonde’s heart one sickeningly bloody bite at a time.

“No!! Stop it! DIOOOOO!!!” Jonathan was a combination of livid and desperate. He had to do something! He couldn’t just sit there and do nothing, yet he couldn’t break the bonds on his own like this! Damn it all, what could he do to save Speedwagon?!

He looked frantically to his friend, still kneeling on the ground. His skin grew pale the more Dio partook of his heart and he had more and more cracks appearing all over his body. Strangely, though, his earlier pained frown was slowly lifting into a smile, the action causing parts of his face to break off and shatter on the ground.

Dio soon finished and licked his lips, thoroughly satisfied with his meal. He looked away from Jonathan, down to the kneeling, bloody, broken man at his feet. He gave that wicked grin of his as he reached down and tilted Speedwagon’s head up with his blood soaked hand. The other allowed this, gazing up at Dio with that shattered smiled and hollow eyes. Dio seemed to like what he saw and looked back at Jonathan with a smirk.

“He’s mine now, Jojo.”

Those words were the last thing Jonathan heard before he awoke.

<-Previous Chapter Next Chapter->

End Notes:  I always felt like Dio's chimera-zombies were wasted potential and wanted to see more of them, so you'll be getting a couple gruesome Halloween-worthy ones in this story x3

[corancoranthemagicalman]

Hannibal - Ep1 - Reaction

Okay, so this is starting because of @quartermastercandlestickmaker​ and @todorokisrose​ [yes, y’all both gettin’ tagged in the annoouncement and this one. I need to be clear on who is causing my suffering.]

I’m here in this hole now. This dark pit.

This is not a live-blogging of my watch, but I am writing this live. So, writing live posting later. If that makes sense. I’ll have one post per episode and after I’ll compile them all into a master list.

Spoilers ahead.

What a grand opening my dudes. Thrilling music. He’s got that “he fucked up” face going on. WAIT NO HE’S SHERLOCKING THE SHIT. OH COOL. NO WONDER I SAW SOOME FANART OF THEM BEING BFFS. Oh, I like this. Weird effects flex but I dig it.Ooooooooooo I was not expecting that voice. IS THIS WHERE THE “THIS IS MY DESIGN” SHIT CAME FROM WHAT THE FUCK Have I known this more than I thought.

Also low-key bitch *looks* like a psychopath no wonder what is gonna happen happens. Oh rip Mrs. Marlow ;;~;; that was a hard change bro.

I don’t wanna think about ---

BITCH THIS *IS* WHERE THE THIS IS MY DESIGN SHIT CAME FROM OH M Y G O D

Also Laurence Fishbourne god bless I love him.

It’s difficult for me to be social too, fam. LAURANCE WHY DID YOU FIX HIS GLASSES THAT WAS SO WE IR D???? Also bro same I love you, Will Graham, you funky little sociopath.

“Every girl is a candy bar” mhm okay thanks for that. Will and this sociable thing is really fucking me bro minus the serial killer obsession/profession/vibe.

Laurence Fishbourne is an amazing actor but I’m also digging the dude playing Will (srry names are my weakness so his name is Will.)

Oooooo booi. I recognize Katz from fanart she’s a popular one right. But we’re going upstairs.

I’m so worried about opening the door

Oh

Oh

Oh no

He knew

This bitch been knew

Holy shit

I like the whole thing with eye contact. I’ve seen the gif where it’s mentioned but I like how it’s subtle and not overly emphasized so far. Oh we’re flashing back again. Poor Elise. It’s a super interesting story technique using him as the killer. Also damn bitch “you unstable” you’re such a nosy bitch how were you interrupted when you were asked not to enter

Now everyone is here

Antlers promote healing mhm okay

I wanna hug him but I also don’t want to make him uncomfortable with contact. IS HE STOPPING FOR A DOG OH ,Y HO GOD. I’D DIE FOR THIS MAN. I’D DIE FOR THIS MAN. HE STOPPED FOR A DOG. HEWENT BACK FOR THE DOG OMGH THIS MAN THIS MAN IS,,,,, he adopted a fucking stray dog. This man is lovely. I love this man. This -- HE DOES IT TO MULTIPLE DOOGS OH MY GOD I WANNA MARRY HIM ANDHAVE WINSTON AND EVERYBODY AND OMOG HE’S SUCH A LOVELY STRANGE CREATURE.

Where are we now. In a dream state? OH SHIT WE ARE THAT’S A BODY AND A HEARTBEAT IN MY EAR WHAT THE FUCK ahhhh fun nightmares I love it. Oh shit the towels. Bro. There are quite a few visuals happening.

“USE THE LADIES ROOM” dafsjhg

Stop yelling at him ;;~;;

Woah  this is a lot to unpack in this scene you can see Will like slipping omg. It’ss almost unsettling him not having eye contact but like I know the reason for it and therefore it’s just impressive acting and not like unsettling of the actor to do that if that makes sense? I really am impressed by that level of commitment to not have a “look at the camera” to keep showing how he won’t look at other people.

Ooo this is one of the lady psych talkers which is like on the Graham side while the blonde one is for Hannibal, right even tho Hannibal is a brain doc. ALANA that’s her name and that might be how you spell it. She doesn’t want him out there but Laurence needs  her to be his back  up. (Oh, his name is Jack.) JACK DONT MAKE PROMISES WILL CAN AND WILL GET CLOSE.

WHAT THE FUCK  IS THIS SHOW WHAT THE HELL ARE THOSE SHADWS AND THE ANTLERS PIERCING HER OH MY GOD WHAT THE SHIT IS THIS SHOW I THOUGHT THE VISUALS I HAD SEEN IN FAN ART WAS JUST LIKE FANON  IMPOSED OMOG “SOMETHING WRONG WITH  THE MEAT” O G M OOG HE’S EATING THEM FUCK

Is this

Is this my bitch

MY BITCH MADS OH MY GOD.

I love him. He’s so unconventionally handsome. He looks like he’d kill and eat me but I’d thank him for it, yanno? Oops.

No nonsense MM handing this crying man some tissues I love it. “I hate being this neurotic” omg the mood also Hannibal’s glance to the tissue is fucking amazing??? V Subtle Acting /cries in beauty

Franklyn, the lion isn’t in the room boy (just discovered I might wanna put subtitles on but they’re not working so rip)

Frankie boy got so scared by that comment thanks, Dr. Lector.

Mhm no secretary that’s,,, suspicious,,,, “sad to see her go” mhm okay sure Jan

Oh this bitch does draw oh my god john hopkins internship and all. Laurence is impressed and Mads is “mhm are you gonna try something” sdajkfgh A LAYMAN DAMN aww he’s like “oomg you’re so amazing dr. mr. sir”

OH THEY’RE IN THE SAME ROOM HERE WE GO BBY

FUCKKK IT BEGINS

SORRY HE’S GIVING THE WHOLE DOWNLOW

“Associations come quickly-” “so do forts”

QEFJWahgrsdfdkq WHAT THE FUCK

THIS IS LITERAL THE FIRST DAMN CONVERSATION HE HAS WITH HIM. I KNEW THE CONVERSATION ABOUT EYE CONTACT WAS ONE OF THEIR FIRST, BUT THIS IS THE LITERAL FIRST WITH THE ADDED BONUS OF HE ACTUALLY MAKES E Y E C O N T A C T OOMGGG??!?!?!?!

Oh ;;~;; “YOU WONT LIKE ME WHEN I’M PSYCHOANAYLYZED” im this is very flirtatious als jack you’re like br  o

So he’s the King of Empathy. He’s,,, helping Will see his own face,,, mhm,,,,, what does that say about you, Dr. Lector?

He’s mocking where he was apologetic is this maybe noT

FJAGUDIS

SHIT THOSE ARE LUNGS

OH

“HE HAS A DAUGHTER SAME AGE” O H B O  Y THAT’S UH DADDY HAS SOME ISSUES WITH BABY LEAVING HOME

Also this is a copy cat dklafjsghjfd OH DAMN THAT SNAP BACK ABOUT DR. LECTOR FFUCKK MAN.

Also,, I  can see why this show,, caused issues,,, a man should not look handsome while eating fucking lungs.

More visions I cannot even

What does this

What the hell is this

Dr. Lector showing up at his house o h .

IS HE FEEDING HIM FUCKING LUNGS BITCH OH MY GD ON A FIRST DATE???

“God forbid we become friendly”

“I don’t find you that interesting”

This smells,,, like a ship,,, mhm,,,,

Breath will damn breath slow and use the words omg

Mhm ookay “we’re just alike” in the first bit…

Uncle Jack sees him as a fine china tea cup. That’s hilarious.

“How do you see me?” says Will.

“The mongoose I want under the house when the snakes slither by,” replies Hannibal WHILE WILL IS KEEPING EYE CONTACT.

OH MY GOD. MHM. KAY. IM OKAY. THIS IS OKAY.

So is there a reason -- “plain but pretty” hannibal gives a look -- is there a reason no official officer is accompanying them like????? They’re both not??? FBI????

Damn hannibal spilling shit everywhere.

HE’S USING A TISSUE TO PICK UP THE PHONE

TO CALL HIS DAUGHTER

MHMMMM?????????

Wait no he’s calling someone else

Who is this

OH HE’S CALLING GARRETT. OH. wait is he helping other cannibals get away. What the fuck. You can’t do that, Hannibal. Is there a fuckking cannibal union yall get together and trrade recipes.

OH NO GARRETT MURDERED HIS WIFE AND KID DIDNT HE OH NO

OH PLEASE NO

Wait we’re back to reality

This back and forth is trippy

Oh

H  N

OH  NO

FUCK YU HANNIBAL AND YOUR STUPID FUCKING CANNIBAL CLAN THIS PR WOMAN :(((((((((

I do love how this built up to Hannibal being the cannibal but it was Hobbs. NFIEGSIBFD

HOBBS NO

FUCK HIM UP WILL

(also I guess Will technically is FBI that probably helps lmao)

Oh no

O h n o

Dont whisper at him to see bitch

Oh no

Will

Will it’s

Oh no

>:((((((((((((((((((( hannibal Imma fuck you up

Will honey let someone clean your glasses. Does she survive? I hope the girl survives. The Traitor Cannibal Bitch is going with them. Mhm.

Alana tryin’ to protect him. (Does she like him? I got bad news, babe, he’s gonna fall in love with a man-eater.)

shE SURVIVED??? AND HANNIBAL IS THERE WITH HER???? OMOG??? DOES HE FEEL BAD YET YOU FUCKING BITCH YOU READ THE CANNIBAL WRONG AND HE NEARLY MURDERED HIS FAMILY wait is this chick who everyone calls their daughter oomg??? Is this her????

WHAT WAS THIS SHOW OMG WHAT WAS THIS SHOW

[emisonme]

PR time line.............

Some can't seem to understand, how Shmila could have helped Camila get out of the PR with the con man. Let's explore the time line and maybe you'll have a better understanding of where I'm coming from.

Camila's debut album, had an original release date, of September 2017. She would have signed a PR contract with Ew, probably late August. These PR contracts are usually for a period of time, but the start and end dates, are flexible, because of the release dates of the Artists music being flexible.

Camila probably found out, sometime in late August, that her release date was being pushed, to November. That's why she followed the con man on SM, in October. They were preparing to unleash the PR, after the release of her album, in probably early December. Just in time for the holidays.

But, her album got pushed, yet again. The new date was January 12, 2018. She does the Elvis Duran radio show, on January 11. That is the first time we hear her or anyone else, utter that fuckers name.

The next morning, she does GMA. They schedule Con to appear on the same show. Why? To give us a PUBLIC reason for them meeting and the ensuing "relationship".

Three days later, Camila does Beats 1, with Zane Lowe. That's when we got the "maybe" when asked if she had a special someone in her life. Also, the whole, "I can't say your name without smiling" bullshit.

Then on February 9. 2018, we got the E-News exclusive Mexico beach photo-shoot. That's the day the actual PR began. They had signed the actual contract, MONTHS before, but because the album kept getting pushed, so did the start date for the PR.

That being said, I'm almost certain, they only signed a 1 year contract. I'll explain. We got their one year of public bullshit, but it really got laid on thick towards the end. If you notice, they did the same thing with Lauren and Tyrone. (It stayed pretty much SM until closer to the end, when they started doing red carpets and showing up to Industry events together.)

They did the "family" holiday thing, with both families, in December and January. Then on February 1, we got the pap pics of them leaving the movies, where Camila looks upset, and Con looks pissed. We also get turfers and "fans" taking to SM saying they had been arguing and Camila had been crying. That was the start of the "trouble in paradise" narrative.

The 10th was the Grammy's. After that, they both left for Dubai, and Camila's performance at Red Fest. They spent a few days hobnobbing around the Arabian Desert, taking lots of pics. Supposedly all happy. Then on February 25, Camila took his ass to that Vanity Fair shin-dig. That was their supposed public coming out, together. Camila had zero desire to be there with that fucker, and it showed.

Then, we got Camila's birthday post, on March 3. The things she learned when she was 21. A very interesting post, indeed. Number three, on that list, was talking about how complicated life and relationships are. How the right opportunity comes at the wrong time, and having to do something hard and uncomfortable, to be happy. (yeah, like PR)

Then she talks about how falling in love is the best thing ever. That leads us to number 8. There she says, life is to short, to hang with people you don't like, be in relationships with people that don't make you happy, or do things you hate. (yeah, like PR with an asshole)

Then MFP was released on March 25. In a song, with a video dedicated to people in relationships, Camila tells the world, she dedicated MFP to her favorite person, her little sister. (that's so sweet...but also very telling)

Why are those two things important? Because I firmly believe, the "split" announcement, and the official end to her PR, was supposed to happen in March.

So, what happened? Just like there is no official start date in a PR contract, there isn't an official end date, either. It's just a suggested time frame, of 1 year, 2 years, 3 years, etc. There are no hard dates built in, because in the Music Industry, everything is about timing.

Here's how I think it was supposed to go down. I think the announcement was supposed to come, just before the release of MFP. That would have explained the dedication to her sister, and would have given that song more promo.

But probably more importantly, It would have been perfect timing for FYA, if things had played out the way they were supposed to play out. She recorded that song with Mark, back in January. I think FYA was the song Mark was planning to release, with the pre-order link, which was on April 12. It would have been the best song to release with the link, and a public "split" would have been perfect timing for the release with the pre-order link. It would have gotten a shit load of media attention.

Instead, Epic got pissed, because Camila wasn't doing what they wanted her to do. It wasn't a damn song with Canada, Camila didn't want to do. She's game to collab with Canada, and just about anyone else who wants to collab with her. It was a PR relationship with him, they wanted her to agree to, but she didn't want to do.

When are some of you going to open your eyes and realize that. Her and Canada are real life friends. She'd probably agree to release a collab a year with him, if that's what he wanted. It's just music. A PR relationship, on the other hand, is a completely different story.

Epic, Island, and maybe Andrew, didn't JUST want a song. They wanted that song, to come with the bullshit we are getting now. Camila agreed to the song, but not the PR. So, what did Epic do? They delayed the official "split" with the dickhead.

Camila bought her house in April. They delayed the announcement of the purchase, until May 13, and had his name inserted into the damn article. Making it sound like she was going to be sharing her house with his ass. Did he ever step foot in her house?

Camila went to Italy in early May. They made it look like he went with her. He may have been there, but he didn't go "with" Camila. He was there to promote one of his books. She was there to get away from all the bullshit. They did have her walk through the airport with him, when they arrived back to LA, on May 12. The 13th, we got the article about the house. May 14, was the last pics we got of the two together.

On May 20, Camila posted one of the saddest pics, I've seen. You could tell, she was anything but happy. That's the day they want us to believe Ewmila "broke up". So, what could have happened between their supposed happy romantic trip to Italy, and the 20th? Absolutely nothing...with Ewmila. They were nothing to each other. Camila just wanted that motherfucker out of her life.

On May 24, we got the post saying, "the calm before the storm, with the 6 tornado emoji's. 4 days, after that very sad looking pic, she warned us this shitshow was coming.

On May 27, we got the pics of Camila and Canada eating outside, and the first media hits, asking "are they dating". Publicist planted that shit. May 30, FYA was released. June 8, Camila went to perform on stage with Alejandro Sanz, with no con artist in sight. June 18, she went to have her little chat at Cannes. She posted a pic, with the caption, "looks put together on the outside, but a mess on the inside". (or something close to it) That's also the day we got the first teasers of Senorita. The song and video was released on the 21st. Nothing but PR bullshit after that.

That's the time line, of how all this shit went down. That sad emotional pic, on the 20th, was a genuine sadness. She was an emotional mess, and NOT because of a "break-up". I think, that is the day, she gave in to the pressure, and made the decision to do the PR with Canada.

She wanted out of that PR shitshow with dickhead. The Label could have kept it going, as long as the dickhead agreed to keep it going, and why wouldn't he. It was getting him the attention he wanted. He didn't give a shit, it was causing her anxiety and emotional distress. (Matthew Hussey is a NARCISSISTIC PRICK, that's all about himself. The Label didn't give a shit, either. They just wanted their artist to do what they wanted her to do. IN MY OPINION!!!)

It really doesn't take that long to record and master a single. By the time they were seen eating together, on the 27th, they had probably already recorded the song, and were discussing the visuals for the video. They filmed it the first week of June or so.

I'm pretty sure, in my thoughts, that Camila only agreed to do this shit, if it was the song of her choice, the video visuals of her choice, and her team doing it. The song she chose, was HER song, Señorita. It wasn't difficult to figure out who that song was about. That's why Epic wouldn't allow her to release it, on her own. But, in a duet with Canada, they were fine with it.

This was all decided on, and done very quickly. That's how they were able to keep it a "secret". From agreement to roll out, it was all done in a months time.

So yeah, that's how I came to my conclusion, that Canada actually "helped" her get out of her PR shitshow with the Con man. How it was her song that was chosen. Her Label was pressuring her, to do this PR stunt with Canada, since 2018. Island and Epic, both wanted it. The song was just the pathway to get the PR started.

Camila is getting shit on, for something BOTH sides were pressuring and down right manipulating/coercing her to do. SHE DIDN'T WANT TO DO IT!!! Canada didn't really want to do it, either. But he's so damn scared of getting publicly outed, and it ruining his career, that he was willing to do anything to keep that from happening.

The only BAD GUYS, in all this shit, is Epic, Island, Andrew, and Roger. THEY are the ones so hell bent on keeping their clients "straight", and making a shit load of money off them, while they are being locked in their glass closet.

Roger should have put his foot down, and told Epic to make the public announcement, of the "split" back in May. Hell, he should have "leaked" the shit himself, on the 20th, when Camila posted that pic, if nothing else. That's why I place blame on him, for the way Camila is being portrayed by others.

The Sun, had the information for a while. They were told to sit on that information, until Epic was ready for the public announcement to be made. That's why the report started with, "I can reveal ...". Not, "this just in", or "Sources have confirmed", but "I can reveal".

The definition of reveal, for those who aren't sure...reveal: make (previously unknown or secret information) known to others....Yep, they sat on the info, until they were told to "reveal" it.

Agree or not, believe or not, that's my take on all this shit. This is how my mind connected all the fucked up dots.

[owenepierce]

Sharp || Para

Who: Hunter Clarington & Owen Pierce

When: July 21st, 2020

Where Hunter’s suite.

Notes: Scene Week: Knife-play. Class: Switch 103. @hunterclaringtonswitch​

Hunter sat in the couch, blade moving over the whetstone, honing it with familiar skill.  He smiled to himself when he heard a knock on the door and stood, crossing the room to open it.  He turned his gaze downward and motioned for Owen to enter.  "Come in...don't you look nice," he said, eyes moving up and down, taking him in.  As the blonde entered, he passed a hand over his back.  "I've been looking forward to this all week." Owen was never not excited to scene with Hunter. It'd been difficult to compartmentalize his feelings at first, but as he moved forward and grew as a submissive he found himself with the ability to appreciate their relationship for what it was: a close friendship with sinfully hot benefits from time to time. So, in typical Owen fashion, the blonde submissive dressed as scantily as he could and showed up in nothing but a tank top and a sheer pair of pink briefs that left very little to the imagination. Dropping to his knees, Owen eagerly knocked on Hunter's door and beamed up at the switch when it was answered. "Hi, Sir." He greeted before rising to his feet and striding into Hunter's suite. Turning around at the feel of Hunter's strong hand caressing his back, Owen smiled up at the taller boy sweetly. "Oh. you have, have you?" He stepped in a little closer, ghosting his lips against the others. "What specifically has been on your mind all week, Sir?" Returning Owen's Kiss, Hunter let his hand wander down Owen's back, squeezing his ass and grinning.  "Well, I certanly thought you'd have worn more for me and Regina to peel off of you," he said, touching the tip of his tongue to his lower lip contemplativly.  "Though I can't say I'm complaining."  Tucking the knife into his pocket, he lifted Owen up so that the shorter man could wrap his hiscled legs around Hunter's waist.  "I know you know the way to the bedroom, but...this seems more fun," he chuckled, kissing Owen a bit more firmly this time as he walked toward his bedroom and pressed Owen down onto the mattress. Try as he might, Owen couldn't keep back the little whimper that seeped through his slightly parted lips when Hunter gave his ass a squeeze. Arching into Hunter's hold he giggled at Hunter's comment. "Hey, if you've got some extra clothes you want me to throw on, I'll do so, Sir! I just thought I'd take the less is more approach and hopefully make you eager to cut or rip it all off me." The blonde let out a delighted little yelp when he was swept off his feet so effortlessly. Wrapping his arms around Hunter's neck, he nodded in agreement. "Oh yeah. Loads more fun. I'd ask you to carry me around everywhere if I thought for a second you'd actually do it." Owen teased before he fell into the searing kiss, inhaling deeply through his nose as the taller man whisked him off to the bedroom he was all too familiar with. Owen gave a little huff as he landed on the bed, but kept his hands in the back of Hunter's hair, holding himself against the switch in an effort to drag their kiss on for as long as he'd be permitted to. "No, I don't think I want anything covering you up till later," Hunter said, pushing himself up on his good arm so he could look down at Owen sprawled beneath him.  "I want you to put your arms up above you head, Owen.  Wrists crossed and leave them there."  He watched with interest as his instructions were obeyed, then he shifted, straddling Owen's hips even though he didn't neet to pin him down.  With one hand, he flicked open the knife, blade glinting in the light of the room.  "I'm going to ask you to stay very, very still," he said, letting the flat of the blade scrape along Owen's bared triceps, not cutting him, though some fine peach fuzz was shaved off. Owen gazed up at Hunter, blue eyes wide and as awestruck as they always were when he looked at the other. They'd slept together many times already, but it was never any less thrilling, and Owen never felt any less insanely lucky to have somehow caught Hunter's attention enough to grant him the opportunity of being with him like this. "Yes, Sir," Owen said in a soft tone - the tone he reserved for submitting. Something about Hunter's tone and the way he looked down at Owen brought the blonde to the headspace in record time. Raising his arms and crossing his wrists, Owen's lips parted in anticipation for what was to come. Owen nodded at Hunter's next order, eyes widening as he watched the iridescent knife flick open and glint intimidatingly in the light of the other's bedroom. Gulping, Owen took a breath and his body went rigid, staying as still as he could as Hunter ran the knife along his skin. All the while, Owen kept his eyes trained on Hunter's offensively handsome face, using that image as a reminder of the boundless trust he had in the other. It was always a thrill to do this with Owen, to feel the wonderful power that having the blond place his trust in him gave Hunter.  Lifting the blade, he showed Owen the peach fuzz and ried skin the blade had scraped off, then swiped it clean on his shorts. "You are over dressed," he commented,  sliding the blade under the shoulder strap of Owen's tank top and flicking his wrist so the the knife sliced cleanly through the thin fabric.  "Do you feel how your skin is heating up the blade, Owen?" he asked as he moved over and repeated the action with the other strap.  "If I do this for long enough, it will be the same temperature as your skin."  The knife slid along Owen's collar bone and into the little dip between his pecs, hokking in the fabric there.  "I think I like the hot cold contrast though, so we may take a little break." As he finished speaking, he dragged the knife down, splitting Owen's shirt wide open. Owen’s blue eyes widened when he looked at the knife and the little hairs that were left on it. He hadn’t even felt that - which was further evidence of Hunter’s skill and of the fact that Owen was completely right to put so much trust in the other, especially with a kink like this one when cutting and blood was a hard limit of his. Smirking a bit at Hunter’s comment, Owen wet his lips. “I am, aren’t I? I was hoping you’d do somethin’ about that, Sir.” Owen looked down at his own shoulders and watched Hunter cut off each strap, his own cock reacting under his underwear as it happened. Owen’s breath hitched and he nodded slowly at Hunter’s question. “Yeah… I feel it…” Owen smirked up at Hunter mischievously, knowing exactly what those breaks would consist of before gasping and arching his back slightly as Hunter effortlessly split his shirt open. Locking eyes with the switch, Owen blew a measured breath through his lips. “I...can’t even explain how hot you are like this, Sir.” Owen’s gaze traveled from Hunter’s handsome face, down his broad chest, and then to the bulge in the other’s pants, causing Owen to wet his lips at the sight. Holding the knife, Hunter set it aside and ran his hand up Owens' abs,  pushing apart  the halves of his shirt as he went.  “From  my point of view, you're the one who’s  unbelievably hot. Look at you,”  he breathed, tongue darting out to wet his lips.  Slowly,  he leaned down to capture Owen in a deep, his hand still exploring the newly bared chest, teasing a pert nipple.  As the pair made out, his hand wandered lower until his fingers met the thin material of the blond’s underwear.  A devilish smirk crossed Hunter's face and he slid down the bed until his head was hovering just above Owen’s crotch.  “Now, what am I going to do with these?” he mused, dragging a finger along Owen’s skin where it met the pink material. Owen couldn’t help flushing at Hunter’s compliment. He wasn’t the most modest person in the world, but something about the way the other spoke about him always turned him into a blushing, blubbering mess. A sigh fell from Owen’s lips as he arched his back to allow the shredded tank to fall from his shoulders, leaving him bare-chested just in time for Hunter’s lips to meet passionately seal themselves against his own. Breathing in deeply through his nose, Owen ran his tongue against Hunter’s arching up into the other’s strong body as they made out. Whining involuntarily when their exchange broke, Owen lifted his head slightly to watch Hunter slither down his body, blowing a measured breath through his lips when the switch got down to his underwear. “Mmm, whatever you damn well please, Sir,” Owen replied breathlessly, a sheepish smile gracing his features. A chuckle escaped Hunter, warm breath ghosting over the bulge of Owne's cock under the thin underwear.  "That's right," he hummed, leaning up a bit and pressing a kiss to the warm skinof Owen's abs.  Then, he took the edge of the underwear in his teeth and jerked his head to the side, creating a small tear in the delicate fabric.  Smiling to himself, he kept tugging on the underwear, the tear at the hip spreading, even as he raised a hand and began to massage Owen's cock through theremaining fabric. Keeping his head slightly elevated, Owen watched as Hunter did everything in his power to turn the blonde into an absolute mess of arousal. The visual of that wicked smirk, followed by the way Hunter took the light material of Owen's underwear in his teeth and ripped it practically in two so easily provoked a guttural moan out of the submissive. His back arched and his typically innocent, blue eyes were lust-blown and wide. "Holy shit." Owen let out, biting down on his bottom lip while Hunter massaged at his hard cock over what was left of his underwear. "That was...ridiculously hot, oh my god." Owen let out through a breathless laugh, his cheeks tinted pink in spite of himself. Hunter couldn't keep the smirk off his face as he tore the hip fully, leaving the scrap of underwear very easy to remove.  He looked up at Owen, winked, then dragged the underwear down the one thigh they still encircled.  "Ridiculously hot," he agreed, wrapping his left hand around Owen's dick and stroking, knowing that while he couldn't squeeze tightly with that hand, the raised scars on his paly would provide a different sort of friction.  "I want you to roll over for me, Blondie," he half growled, nipping at Owen's hip bone.  "Pop your pretty little ass up." Owen let his head fall back when Hunter started to stroke his cock. He raised his leg a bit to help Hunter remove the shreds of his underwear and looked up again just in time to catch the other's playful little wink. There was so thrilling about Hunter in this kind of a scene. Usually, the switch was pretty stoic, serious, and effortlessly composed. Owen counted himself as incredibly lucky for being one of the few the other opened up to, let loose with, and could be completely themselves around. That kind of intimacy only worked to turn Owen on that much more. Perking up at the other's orders, he nodded his understanding and hummed out when Hunter's teeth teasingly grazed his hip. "You got it, Sir." Owen smiled and sat up, flipping over, face down, pretty little ass up and right in Hunter's face a little too eagerly. "Such a good boy," Hunter praised, hands smoothing over the warm skin of Owen's ass before trace his spine with a finger, up and down, pausing at the coxcyx.  "Look at you, legs spread the perfect amount for me to get between them."  He settled into place, massaging the blond's muscular thighs, watching as he ass reflexivly clenched.  Slowly, his hands crept up until he was spreading Owen's cheeks, revealing the tight little pink pucker nestled between them.  "Looks good enough to eat," Hunter teased before dragging the flat of his toungu over the sensitive furl of skin and nerves. Unbeknownst to Hunter, Owen grinned cheekily at the praise. It was something he heard often, but it always felt particularly special coming from Hunter. He let out an elated little sigh at the feeling of the other's rough, strong hands smoothing themselves against his perky little booty. Every little touch Hunter granted Owen set his nerves on fire in the best possible way. He was just about to wordlessly beg for more by provocatively shaking his ass in Hunter's face when he felt the tell-tale beginnings of what was to come: Hunter's hot breath ghosting against his hole, causing Owen to hum delightedly and clench his muscles in an effort to show off his tight, puckered little hole for Hunter's viewing pleasure. "Mmm, then maybe that's exactly what you should do, Sir. It's all yours, so you'd be super remiss not to do what you def want with it." Owen pushed back just in time to meet Hunter's tongue - an action that elicited an embarrassingly loud moan that fell from Owen's lips. "Oh, fuck - Sir! Mmmf, that feels so, so good." From the sounds of things, Owen was clearly appreciating the attention, so Hunter buried his face between the plush cheeks, enthusiasticly lapping at the other young man's ass. Hunter worked his tongue up and down Owenn’s crack, over his hole, down to his balls. leaving a  and sighs his actions were causing. He could feel the muscles twitching under his tougue and he gave Owen's butt a light spank before nibbling gently on the tender skin.  Making his tongue rigid, Hunter pushed it against the other man's hole,  smiling to himself as the muscle relaxed and allwed the intrusion, setting up a slow, teasing pace, fucking him shallowly with his tongue. They'd done a lot together at this point, but somehow, they'd never gotten around to oral with the roles reversed in this way, and Owen was mentally kicking himself for letting them get this far without delving into it - 'cause damn did Hunter know what he was doing. Despite the fact that the Switch was pinning his lean frame to the mattress, Owen writhed and moaned as much as he could against Hunter's mouth. There wasn't an inch of skin left untouched and by the time Hunter had worked Owen all the way up to literally fucking his hole with his tongue, the blonde was an absolute mess, sprawled out on the bed, clutching at the sheets, quivering and gasping. "Oh, oh god - Sir....fuck, yes. R-Right...there, oh my god!" Owen panted incoherently, whining and whimpering as he pushed back against Hunter's firm grip, doing everything in his power to stay relaxed so that Hunter could properly fuck him with his mouth alone. "You're...fuck, no one's ever...done that, like that." Owen let out gratefully, a breathless smile on his face as his own cock throbbed in response under his taut belly. The way Owen was reacting made Hunter smile and ease his tongue in as far as it would go, massaging the blond's ass as he did so.  When he finally pulled back, he grinned down at Owen and teased, "No one?  Well, they're missing out.  An ass like yours is meant to be properly eaten...now I know you want hump the mattress, so you can get some friction for your cock, but I want you to hold very, very still."  He grabbed up the knife, showing it to Owen so the other would know why he want him to be still.  Flicking open the blade, he leaned in and nipped at Owen's raised ass before dragging the blade over one of the round cheeks. "I mean, I've had my ass eaten, for sure...but that thing you're doing with your tongue..." Owen gulped and turned, giving Hunter a sheepish little grin,  "...that's new, and it's...amazing. Not that I'm in the least bit surprised. You always manage to blow my mind, Sir." The blonde registered Hunter's order and then registered it on a more acute level when the Switch presented this breathtakingly intimidating reason he should remain as still as a statue. Immediately complying, Owen held his breath only to let out a deep sigh at the feeling of the knife expertly gliding against his firm glutes. "D'you like the way that blade looks against my ass, Sir?" Owen challenged playfully, still remaining as still as he could despite the shadow of a smirk that graced his features. Hunter: "I'm glad you like it...and we can thank fanfiction for teaching me that trick," he said with a laugh, tapping the flat of the blade against Owen's plush cheek.  "You know, before I came to Lima Heights, I had never been with another man before.  A lot of my knowledge was in theory."  Going down on a woman was rather different than a man.  As he dragged the blade over Owen's ass, he blew lightly on the skin in the wake of his motions.  When he set aside the blade again and parted Owen's cheeks, he pursed his lips and bler on the spit slick swirl of muscle. Owen pressed his face into the bedspread and giggled at Hunter's admission of where he picked up the trick that had very quickly ascended the list of Owen's all-time favorite things to do/ask for in the bedroom. The giggle was all Owen could really manage, though - with the way Hunter was incorporating his slow, hot, measured breathes against his skin along with the cool metal of the blade; Owen was weak underneath the Switch, and he reckoned that was Hunter's main objective, anyway: making him a weak, pile of desperate submission. Whining at the feeling of spit hitting his puckered hole, Owen bit down on his bottom lip and cursed under his breath. "You drive me crazy, Sir - you know that?" "I want you to cum for me, Owen," Hunter said, bending to tease Owen's ass with his tongue again.  "Can you do that for me, Blondie?  Cum like a good boy just from having your ass played with?"  He wanted to have Owen fall apart for him, over stimulated from the knife play and the oral.  Hunter's own cock was rock hard, but that could wait till after.  He wanted to fuck Owen into the mattress, slow and hard once all sharp objects were stowed away. As Owen had gotten deeper and deeper into his identity as a submissive, he'd found that he seldom actually noticed his own need for release until it was brought to his attention directly. In this case, he didn't really notice how hard his cock was, nor how close he was to cumming until the words left Hunter's lips. At that moment, Owen shifted his focus to his own arousal, knowing that by granting himself that release, he'd be pleasing the Dominant he was submitting to - and that idea made the idea of cumming right there and then all the more attractive. "Mmhmm." Owen asserted, his cock throbbing underneath his abs. "I can, Sir. Especially with your perfect mouth back there working over my hole like tha---fuck!" He yelped out, feeling the wetness of Hunter's tongue run over his hole once more. Clenching back against Hunter's ministrations, Owen closed his eyes and focused on his arousal; on Hunter's mouth, the heat of his breath, the grip of his strong hands against his ass and before he knew it, he was cumming - hard. Quivering under Hunter's grasp, Owen moaned out as ropes of cum shot out from his cock as Hunter's tongue continued its assault against his wet, desperately puckered hole. A moan escaped Hunter when he felt Owen tense, muscles clenching on his tongue before Hunter pulled out and licked his twitching hole as the blond writed in orgasm.  "Such a good boy," he rumbled, tossing the knife onto the bedside table before crawling up onto the bed and pulling Owen into his arms, kissing his sweaty, flushed face.  "God, you look incredible like this," he breathed, hand stroking Owen's back.  His cock throbbed against Owen's thigh, but he wanted a break, didn't want to cum to quickly, so he said "Fifteen minute cuddle break...then we can have some more fun."

[beyoncesdragon]

A little help, a little love (Harry Styles)

Requested: yes, on my wattpad :)

Warnings: language as per usual

a/n: the one you can find on my wattpad has a slightly different ending, so if you coincidentally read that other one first, maybe give this a try too! I actually wrote this ending first, but somehow decided I would rewrite the whole thing #3amthoughts. 

My Masterlist  this can be found on my Wattpad

(Gif found on Pinterest) 

The smell of green tea and cookies hit my nose when I opened the door to the Shangri-La studios. Harry must be really upset with the song…green tea and cookies had always counted as a distressing sort of ritual Harry and I had practiced, when one of us was seriously stressed out. Though, we had not been able to sit down for tea and talk in a while, due each of our jobs. 

Being a singer and songrwriter and traveling around the globe had been both of our dreams since little, but now actually living that life had made us drift apart inevitably. Harry and I had met way back in first grade, when I moved in just next to his house. I had been the new one for quite a while, not immediately hitting it off with Harry. Not that we disliked each other, more because he had his friends and he was a boy and I was new and a girl. That was why, apart from both of us being in the state of utter disgust about the other sex, we had seen no business in talking to each other. I had then quickly found my own people and so we coexisted for quite a while, before we both discovered our shared passion for music and especially, for Fleetwood Mac. That was in maybe sixth grade…we were eleven that time. 

From that moment on, we had suddenly spent several afternoons together, talking about music and listening to different kinds. When Harry had joined the school band White Eskimo, he had started to teach me how to play guitar and I had  taught myself how to play bass. I remember being quite butthurt when one of his friends and former bandmember “Joshie” refused to let me join the band, even though they were indeed short of a bass player. 

Just a few years later, Harry had auditioned for the X-Factor…and the rest was probably written down in historybooks. For me however, had started a rather difficult time as I struggled to find something that I would enjoy doing for living. This frustrating phase of my life had resulted in me writing songs about it and uploading them on YouTube – from where I got soon discovered by the record label Colombia Records. Maybe, and I still haven’t gotten clarity over it, Harry helped with that a little bit. But he refused to say something about it, to this very day. 

Whilst he had then toured with One Direction, I had started to produce my own music and also write. I learned several different instruments during that time, adding the piano and keyboard, drum kit and even a little tiny bit of violin to the bass and guitar. 

During that whole time, when my career finally took off completely and Harry’s seemed to rise out of sight, he and I had remained close friends. Not the closest of friends, due already mentioned schedule, but as close as possible. However, now that Harry went solo for quite a while, we had seen each other a bit more often – albeit that ended when he went on tour again. Though, we had had a show together, London I believe it was. For both of our fans that hadn’t been too much of a surprise since it was widely known that we were good friends.

And now he already was at his second album and for that, he had called me. Sounding close to devastated on the phone, he had confessed that he couldn’t manage to finish a single song, and that he was even further from writing a new one. So I had decided to pay him a visit in the famous Shangri-La studios where he was recording his album at the moment. 

And there I was, slipping out of my shoes and taking off my pair of Sunglasses I had out on because of paparazzi that had unfortunately gotten wind of my visit in the states. Harry had left the gate and door open for me to just walk in, promising that he would be alone in the studio so I wouldn’t have to feel awkward when walking in. 

“Harry?” I called out. Hearing how the faint melody of someone playing guitar stopped. 

“Princess? Is that you?” I grinned at the pet name and walked towards the direction I meant it coming from. “It is. Where are you?” in this second, the door almost behind me got ripped open and I jumped slightly. 

“There you are…how’s the world’s favourite curly doing?” he grinned softly before wrapping his arms around me. 

“Terrible. I can’t write music anymore, I am a failure and I don’t deserve to be here.” I laughed into the fabric of his shirt, enjoying the warmth of his hug. “Bullshit m’love. I am sure we can fix this.” He just hummed, staying in the embrace for a little longer, before then stepping away. “Gods know how I’ve missed ye…” he said, and the small, dimply smile he gave me, stole a beat of my heart. “Missed you too Harry. A lot. We should drink tea more often.” I said with a smirk, looking up at him. He hummed in agreement before softly nudging me inside the studio. I let my eyes wander over the variety of instruments and the huge control-panel. 

“In-fucking-sane.” I said with a grin and he laughed. “I know right? And despite all of this…” he dramatically pointed at the equipment, “am I not able to produce anything that is anyhow acceptable and I am ashamed.” I laughed and walked over to him, just to wrap my arms around his waist one more time. 

“Don’t be. Where is the problem? Or shall we first do the tea part…?” he gave me a soft pout and nodded, carefully dragging me to the little couch area in the corner of the studio. 

Someone – Harry – had set up a large tea pot of steaming green tea and a jar of still warm cookies next to it. He dropped down on the couch, immediately pouring some of the tea into two tea cups. I sat down on a fluffy chair on the other side of the table, giving him a thankful smile. 

“Thank you H. How’ve you been apart from the writing?” he shrugged slyly, pouring himself a cup of tea. “The thingy with Camille, but I told you about that…” I pulled a face. 

“Yeah that was nasty. Anything going on apart from that, of which I don’t know?” he shrugged, before shaking his head slowly. “I have really just been writing songs and making music ever since. Which is why this whole damn…thing is so frustrating.” I could only chuckle, carefully placing the cup down. “Then let’s not sulk around any longer. I can’t drink a proper tea with a man in a fuss.” he got up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and lifting me a few inches off the ground. 

“As you command my lady. What do you want to do first?” I yelped at him lifting me up, not really liking the loss of control I experienced at the moment. “I’d start with you letting me down, you annoying asshole. Then, show me a few of your songs you have already written and produced.” Harry obeyed, quickly pressing a kiss on my cheeks before walking over to the computers. 

“First one is called Fine Line. I think you will like it, it’s a very…raw song, kinda. You will understand. Ready?” I nodded quickly, sitting down on the chair in front of the control panel.

The song was beautiful, soft and simple and it made my heart bleed, though at the same time it healed it. Harry had faced the ground during the whole six minutes or such, the light from the large windows only hitting one side of his face. It made his eyes shine in two different shades of green: one in a light, with brown and gold specked lime and the other in a dark olive. My eyes trailed further down to the bridge of his nose and to his cupids bow. He had his lips pressed together, making them appear white. From time to time he relaxed them, causing the blood that rushed back, to colour them in a deep raspberry pink. He was just…beautiful. 

And talented, Fine Line was a master piece. “How’d ye like it?” he asked carefully, looking up to me again. “I absolutely loved it. What number of songs do you want the album to have?” Harry’s face relaxed slightly before he shrugged.

“I will probably get twelve on the album again…I am toying with the thought of making it the last track of the album.” I nodded instantly. “Yes. That’s brilliant…you’d end the album with “We’ll be alright” then…I absolutely love that.” He grinned proudly. 

“Then track #12 it is. Ready for the next one?” I nodded quickly, leaning back again and closing my eyes whilst Harry clicked play for the next song. When I opened them again at the end of the track, I caught him staring at me. “Like what you see?” I teased cheekily and he shook his head with a grin. 

“I love it.” I could only smile about that. “How was that one?” he then asked after a minute of silence. “I liked it. ‘Suppose it’s called “She”? or did I get that mixed up?” he grinned, shoving me off playfully. “Yeah it is. Those are the only ones I haven’t sent you…Adore you, Golden, She, Cherry…you’ve heard them all, right?” He then said with a shrug and I nodded. “I have. Even Watermelon sugar by the way. Then which one is the problematic child of yours?” he sighed softly, switching the track. 

“That one. I already planned it to be one of the singles to be released, I know the name I know how I want the visuals to look like but…the song itself is one big…construction site.” I nodded slowly. “Play what you already have.” He obeyed wordlessly, starting the snippet of the song. It started with a slow crescendo, an electronic sound mixed with a simple guitar chord. i was surprised by the sudden drums, positively however. Harry’s voice sounded a bit different than before. More hoarse, more scratchy and still very soft and gentle. I nodded slowly with the beat of the song. It was good…but something missed. The refrain started to play, a guitar more provisionally playing a few chords before Harry started with an idea of a strong vocal, not the full blow he could manage to sing. I stopped the song with a quick gesture. 

“I really like how the song builds up so far…though I don’t like the guitar with the bridge. It’s not…powerful enough. A guitar is more…plucking and way too playful. We got to replace this…” I started and Harry nodded slowly. “You are right. What would you insert there? A…violin?” I giggled softly and shook my head. “Piano, keyboard, something like that. No more strings Harry!” he grinned, helping me up. 

“Then there you go. Do your magic.” I shove him away lovingly, walking over to the set up keyboard, and turning it on. “Okay…play it again please…” and so we started, he played the song and I tried to follow the melody in a soft and easy way, without taking the attention off Harry’s soft voice. And that we did, again and again.

Two hours had passed since we started, the sun had started to set and I was sure that I could sing every lyric in my sleep. But we finally finished it…and I loved the song. Harry and I had ended up with the piano mixed softly with a little bit of guitar and he had added some more percussion. A thing I had done as well, a simple djembe had done the job. 

“I feel like…something is still missing somehow.” Harry confessed sheepishly, giving me an innocent look. “What? Spill Harry, you know I won’t be weirded out.” I replied with an eye roll. My feet were drawn up to my chest and I sat on the swivel chair in front of the console again. Harry, who stood behind the chair so we would both have a good look on the screen grinned, before softly wrapping his arms around me. “I don’t think it should be my voice alone in the refrain. You know, that shine-thingy…” I frowned softly. 

“You want me on the song?” he nodded, giving me big doe eyes. I sighed and nodded softly. “Yes sure…but can we please do that tomorrow? I am tired H.” Harry nodded immediately, stepping away from the chair. “You have stuff for sleeping over here?” I shook my head. “Nope. I actually planned on going back into a hotel I checked in…my stuff’s there. I didn’t knew that the SL-studios had bedrooms?” he shrugged. 

“They have three actually. Do you wanna sleep here and just take some of my clothes?” I nodded quickly, feeling sleepy all out of a sudden. “Then come on up princess. Let’s get you tucked in.” he offered his hand and I pulled myself out of the chair with it. I was just a tad surprised when he held on to my hand for some time, but maybe he was as sleepy as I was – and sleepy Harry is cuddly like no other humanly creature I knew.

Ten minutes, an oversized Harry-tee and a new teeth brush later, Harry and I stood in the bathroom together. I had decided that I was simply too tired to stand, so it sat down on the cold marble floor, earning an amused chuckle from Harry. I shushed him with a slap on his leg, before he dropped down next to me. 

“Feels like a flashback t’those nights y’were tipsy after clubbing.” He mumbled through the teeth paste and I snorted. “When we both were drunk. Don’t try and…escape your past Mister.” He laughed quietly before getting up to wash his face and mouth. Just seconds later I did the same. 

“What room should I take?” I asked after we both exited the bathroom. “Oh about that…” Harry started, a soft blush suddenly spreading on his cheeks. “Would you mind sleeping over at mine? It’s just because I really missed you and I don’t want to feel lonely…” 

“and because you’re a needy, cuddly little baby. It’s okay Harry, as long as I can sleep on the left side.” He threw me a sly grin before suddenly sprinting down the hallway. 

“The faster is the quicker.” He yelled and I sprinted after him with an outraged cry. Harry ended up on the left side, what made me pout for an eternity, before he got up with a sigh, dropped down on the other side and wrapped his arms around me. 

“Better?” I nodded. “Way better. Good night Harry.” He yawned sleepily, resting his face in the back of my neck. “G’night lovie. I am so glad you’re here.” I chuckled softly, snuggling myself a little closer into my best friends embrace. “Me too. Now sleep, we have work to do tomorrow.” He mumbled something under his breath before sighing. “Mitch, Sammy and Tyler are coming tomorrow. N’ Jeff as well. Maybe Sarah…yeh, Sarah as well. You are okay with that, right?” I nodded softly. “Sure, I love them. Especially Sarah’s fruit salad. Speaking of, can she bring some?” Harry laughed silently, grabbing his phone from the nightstand. “I can ask…”

-

The next morning I stumbled into the studio in still Harry’s shirt and shorts, not exactly expecting everyone already being present. And if I say everyone I mean everyone, the whole bloody band and some of the writers including Jeff, were present. 

There was Sarah, relaxedly leaned back on the couch in the back, Mitch right next to her with a bass in his hands, Sammy and Tyler crouched over the control panel, Clair (the only one from his band I hadn’t really met properly) with a mug of coffee at the broad window ledge and Adam, carefully polishing another bass. The second I entered – mind you, still in a messy bun and sleepy – the conversation in the room died down immediately. Everyone stared at me for a second, before Sarah yelled; 

“I got your fruit salad baby!” from the back of the studio and the awkward bubble of “Oh shit what do I do” burst into pieces. Harry, who leaned against the panel, was the closest to me, so he was the first to hug me. 

“Morning princess. Have ye slept well?” I nodded, still a bit droopy, before hitting his bicep softly. “Could’ve said something instead of just disappearing! S’embarassing, fucks sake…” he just laughed and shook his head. 

“Bullshit babe. Ye looked adorable, like a cute little deer in the spotlight.” I snorted and pushed him away. “Yeah, cute.” I retorted sarcastically, before I went on to hug Claire. “Nice to finally meet you. was a bit of a rush in London back then…but I am glad you made it here.” She greeted me friendly, and I instantly liked her. 

“Agree. Sorry I had to leave so quick after the show…couldn’t say goodbye properly to you.” she just waved it off, before stepping aside for me to greet Jeff, Sammy and Tyler. “Look at that A-list celeb in a baggy shirt that’s not even hers, shorts and fuzzy socks.” Sammy immediately teased. 

Oh, right. I was not only wearing Harry’s tee, shorts and had a (very) messy bun – I also wore blue and white striped fuzzy socks. Ideal, let me tell you. I snorted, pushing him off me with a frown. 

“Just so you know, even Ellie Saab, Gucci, Chanel or Salvatore Ferragamo aren’t comfortable always…not that you could know Sammy. You C-List producer.” I mumbled under my breath and everyone laughed loudly. 

“Shots fired! Even sleepy, A-class Pokémon Celebrity number one manages to block a shot fired by C-class Pokémon Producer and finish her opponent with super move: instant kill. Good job Trainer.” Tyler commented sarcastically and I rolled my eyes. 

“Yeah, Team Rocket blasts off at the speed of light! Surrender now, or prepare to fight!” I quoted drily and Tyler pulled me into a bone crushing hug. “I fucking love that one. We should write more often.” I nodded, breaking into a soft grin. “True. Now move along, you stand between me and my fruit salad.” 

After I greeted Sarah, Mitch and the rest of the band and team, I just sat down to munch the delicious fruit salad Sarah had made for me (I loved that woman) and just listened to them talking. They had all listened to the newer version of Lights Up - that was how Harry had called it - and all agreed with Harry that I should sing those few lines with him. 

“Get up…” Harry suddenly mumbled, placing himself in front of my unbothered self. I looked up at him, shovelling another fork of fruit into my mouth. 

“Wha’?” he sighed before pulling me up, sitting on the chair I sat on before and pulling me back into his lap. “Couch’s occupied.” He then said quietly, resting his head on my shoulder. I just hummed, not paying his actions much thought. It was just Harry being affectionate. Sarah gave me a small smile that I returned thinking it was about the fruit salad, but when Claire did the same I wondered…if it perhaps was because of something else. 

“I quickly go and clean that. There’s a kitchen, right?” Sarah and Claire immediately got up. “Yep there is. I come along, need a coffee.” She explained and I nodded. “Same here.  Anyone else something?” Claire asked into the group but no one seemed to need anything. I carefully got up, Harry’s arms around me loosening up a little. He slowly lifted his chin from my shoulder so I wouldn’t knock him away, giving me a weird look. 

“What?” he shrugged. “Nothing. Would you be so kind and get me a coffee as well?” I nodded before following Claire and Sarah into the kitchen.

“You two are cute.” Claire said with a small smile, handing me a dry towel. “What? Who?” 

“Harry and you! who else?” she explained laughing and I frowned. “We aren’t a thing. Just friends as far as I know.” I explained and Sarah crossed her arms over her chest. 

“He’s just very affectionate around you.” I shrugged, feeling a little uncomfortable under the drilling of the two. “That’s just Harry? He’s always been that way.” Though it was a true fact, that he really had always been a very touchy guy, my statement came out more like a question. I mean yes, that he was very touchy right now that hadn’t gone unnoticed by me, and yes, he’s been very needy since I came here…but so? To be completely honest, it wasn’t like him being that way wouldn’t affect me, of course it did. It was also hard to not let it or him affect you in general, because Harry Styles just was a man whose presence always left an impact somehow. Be it because of his golden heart and precious persona, because of his undeniable dashing looks or his outstanding talent. And I would also lie if I’d say that his presence made my heart skip several times and his hasty touches and pecks wouldn’t make my pulse quicken. Of course it did – it was Harry. 

Claire and Sarah dropped the topic Harry after that, and we talked about the song and the process of the album whilst the coffee machine hummed.

⋆

I refused to let them make a feature out of the song. Even though, Harry almost begged me to let them, I said no. 

“I don’t want it! I don’t want to earn money off of this record Harry!” he sighed and shook his head. “But why? Because…because you don’t like it and don’t want to get associated with it?” I laughed and rolled my eyes. “Shut up you twat, I love this song like my own child. It’s because you asked me for help, and I helped. And help in a friendship doesn’t have to be rewarded. This is planned to be your first single of your new album and it is supposed to be just you. Because it’s your song Harry!” this time, it was Harry rolling his eyes at me. 

“At least let me give you a writing credit…” I groaned and shook my head. “I don’t want my name on the song. In no possible way. Additionally to this, you have not employed me. I am whether part of your band, nor your production team, I am your friend, and therefore I do not accept any form of payment. Just leave it Harry! It’s not important anyways.” 

He just shook his head. “You mad woman…but you do know that your fans probably still pick up your voice, if you like it or not.” I shrugged, pushing myself off the table. The whole team watched us, heads turning between Harry and me like during a tennis match. 

“Then so it be. I don’t care about someone recognizing my voice. I just want that this thing stays your song through and through, like any other songs I’ve done touch-ups on for you.” he opened his arms for me to hug him and as I did, he pulled me down on the couch. “You are fucking amazing do you know that?” he mumbled under his breath and I snorted. 

“Obviously.”

There had been pictures of us. Lots of them, flooding my twitter and Instagram feed, the most popular one was a snapshot of me eating fruit salad on Harry’s lap. His head rested on my shoulder, the tee that was obviously his very own perfectly well visible. 

My notifications went crazy with tagged tweets, and since the fans had caught on to the fact that it was indeed, my voice in Lights up,  Harry’s and mine ship name was trending. Mitch that little bastard only fuelled the fire by liking a tweet saying: 

“Now I know where Harry has all those fruit references from.” 

The picture just described linked to it. It now had been retweeted fifty-six thousand times and I was on the verge of flying over seas and strangling Mitch with my own hands. That bloody twit. That hashtag was now trending for two days already and I had received multiple phone calls from several of my family and friends, asking if I was really dating Harry Styles and when the wedding would take place and if I would go on tour with him and if by chance, I would already be pregnant and if, if I already knew what gender the angel was. Long story short, they were all driving me crazy, even if they weren’t serious and just making fun of the whole situation. 

And I had heard nothing of Harry. He had not called, texted, tweeted or written an email and I was too scared to call him again. I had, one time, but he hadn’t picked up and since then I had given it up. I just wanted to know what he thought of this whole thing, of us trending of now two fandoms pretty much shipping us and all that mess that had started, simply because some stupid snap shots of us were leaked. 

And when I wanted to know his thoughts about it, at the same time I didn’t. I was anxious, because I wouldn’t know how to react if he disliked us being shipped, if he really just saw me as a friend like I always said I did, or if there had be some truth hidden in Claire and Sarah’s assumptions. Because speaking strictly for myself…I caught myself not bothering about being pictured as Harry’s girlfriend. 

And the longer this madness was going on, the more I was convinced that I knew that when he first hugged me as I stepped into the SL-Studios, around a month ago.

And maybe my hopeless romantic heart would’ve had a little bit more confidence about the whole thingy, if there hadn’t been this Late Late show thing with Kendall Jenner, that set the internet in an even greater fuss than before. I read tweets like 

“#Hendall coming for their necks”

and 

“Omg the way they look at each other! #Hendall is rising again!” 

and other tweets that fuelled slight insecurity. But thanks to Mitch’s actions (that knob)…our ship was still trending and I still wasn’t sure if I liked it entirely or not. 

Facts however was, that I would have to talk with Harry about it, sooner or later. Because the thing wouldn’t go away until one of us would say something. The question was only how: in person or over phone.

I obviously would’ve preferred it over phone because I wasn’t already ready to confess my feelings that I had tried to hide away from everyone, but one look on my face and he would know that something’s in the bushes. To my displeasure had he the ability to read me quite well. And over phone, that was way harder. 

⋆

The clicking of my front door made me flinch and almost spill the hot tea over my fingers. 

“Hello?” I asked confused, knowing that there were three people including me, in possession of a key to my house: my manager, me and well…Harry? 

“’Ello there love…sorry I didn’t wanted to ring and wait because there were people and I felt like if I don’t step in now, I will get recognised. By the way, how comes that you have the same key for the elevator and the door lock, but not every apartment can be opened with that key? When the elevator is for everyone in the private apartment’s…with key?” I grinned at his flood of question and shrugged.

“I really don’t know, but may I ask what in the bloody hell you are doing here? I thought you’re in LA?” he shrugged, placing a Gucci luggage with colourful Mickey mouse print down. 

“Oh ye know…” he said smugly, slipping out of his shoes. “Planning to crash for a few?” I remarked, nodding towards the luggage. He just shrugged. 

“Depends. However, to answer your first question: I am meeting a very lovely lady that has stubbornly denied getting any credit of feature on my album. To answer the second question…I was in LA, yes. Then I took that thing they call airplane and…” I got up with a chuckle and wrapped my arms around him. “Yeah shut it, you big fool. I wasn’t planning on sounding rude, I was just a bit startled because I was just thinking of you.” he rose his eyebrows. 

“I am flattered. Was it a nice dream?” I felt my cheeks heat up a little. “I haven’t dreamt about you, you narcissistic asshole.” He just winked cheekily. “Sure not…” “and if I would, it would’ve been a nightmare.” I closed off and he grinned. “Rude.” 

“Asked for it.” He shrugged, dragging me to the couch before saying another word. “What are you doing?” I asked, letting him pull me down next to him. 

“We need to talk.” He explained, suddenly seeming way more serious. “You don’t wanna drink or eat anything…” I asked carefully, but he just shook his head. “Had something on m’ way. Now…” he took a deep breath and scooted back a little so he could rest against back of the couch. “I am pretty sure you are aware of that twitter thing going on…” he said with careful glance at my face…and I couldn’t help but feel my cheeks heat up. 

“Obviously.” He hummed quickly before continuing. “What do you think of it?” well, this was not how I wanted it to roll. I didn’t wanted to be the first one speaking up. (but then I should’ve probably done the same thing Harry did – and finally grow a pair). However, right now I felt unprepared and flustered and nervous. I was taken aback by him appearing on my doorstep out of the blue and coming to the point that quickly. 

“I don’t…I don’t know really.” I managed to stutter and avoided his eyes strictly. Just calm down, Jesus Christ…breathe. 

“That means…?” he asked carefully, eyes expectantly resting on me. “It means that I don’t know. Like, maybe I mind it but probably I don’t because I don’t really mind the thought of us but just maybe and I don’t know.” Harry’s brows were furrowed as he tried to follow my torrent of words. 

“I…understand. Partly.” He said, a soft smirk settling on his face. “So you don’t…mind them.” 

“Them what?” he leaned forward a bit, supporting his head with his arms on his knees. “Them shipping us.” I gulped. “I guess I don’t.” he nodded slowly. 

“Alright. And if I told you that I don’t either, what does that mean for us?” my heart skipped a beat. Well, maybe three or four beats at his words and my eyes grew wide. “Y-you don’t mind?” he shook his head, the hint of a blush covering his cheeks. 

“I actually...never really did. I liked the thought of us for a good while now. And the twitter thing…well it only confirmed me.” He then confessed, giving me a nervous chuckle. 

“Are you kidding me?” I asked slowly, growing almost smug when I watched his blush deepen.

“I…I am not.” With a swift move I leaped forward and tackled him backwards down on the couch. “And all that damn time you have never called? You idiot!” he laughed bringing his hand up to my face. 

“Sorry I let you suffer, but you could’ve called too.” I huffed, obviously being aware of that. “No I couldn’t, because first of all, I am a coward you know that, and second, I was embarrassed because you were supposed to be my best friend and you don’t fall for your best friend and third, the whole interview thing with Kendall…” 

Harry laughed out loud. “Kendall? You got jealous because of my interview with Kendall?” I snorted. “I don’t know what you have with putting words in my mouth I never said, I never once said that I got jealous…” Harry cut me off with a quick peck on my lips and a knowing twinkle in his eyes. 

“Yeah maybe I got jealous…” I mumbled with a scrunched nose and he laughed. “Yeah maybe ye did.”

Ending from Wattpad here

[intothestarkerverse]

Time of Our Lives (Part 8)

Based on a prompt from @geekymarvel  

Peter is tasked with an important mission that requires him to go back in time.   Finding himself at a gala for Stark industries in the 1990’s, he comes face to face with a young and incorrigible Tony Stark who considers Peter’s attempts to deny his advances a challenge.  Now, dogged by a horny young CEO who won’t take no for an answer, Peter’s task has become much more difficult….

(STORY CONTAINS ENDGAME SPOILERS)

Read on AO3

Peter was panicking.  Tony could tell by the look on his pretty face. He was excited, vibrating in his seat, but the size of his eyes and the shallow breaths he was drawing into his lungs suggested that Peter didn’t know if he was allowed to be excited about meeting his parents or terrified of the ramifications.  “What…what about the timeline?  What if I screw up the future by meeting them? What if they don’t like me?”

“Peter, you’re the most lovable person I’ve ever met.”  

Shit.  

He’d done it again, and Peter’s smile had taken on that same, ridiculous, dopey quality it always did when Tony slipped and found himself subconsciously using the ‘l’ word.  Tony chose to ignore it.  “There’s no way they’re not going to like you.  As for the timeline…you gonna warn them about their future deaths or introduce yourself to them as their future son?”

“Well, no…”

“Then, I think we’ll be fine.  There have got to be some perks to time travel, Pete, and if meeting your parents who you barely remember isn’t one of ‘em, than I refuse to ever invent it.  There goes your timeline, then, right?”

Peter’s eyes suddenly seemed to darken.  “Yeah, then I’m as good as dusty again.”

Tony paused as he tried to decipher that statement.  Clearly, it was a comment he was not supposed to understand, but something in the way that Peter said it and the slight tremor in his voice had set off alarm bells in Tony’s brain.  Something very bad had happened to Peter, and even the vague idea of it was enough to send Tony’s blood pressure skyrocketing.

Fuck.

He really had to get a handle on this.

“Good, so, it’s settled, Beautiful.  Operation Meet the Parents is a go.  But before we go off and make some memories, there’s a few things we need to go over.  Just for the sake of full disclosure.”  Tony shifted in his seat to give Peter his full attention.  It had not been easy to get Peter to open up about his parents so that Tony could go about locating them.  It had required Tony to share quite a bit about his own as well.  In the end, it was worth it, and completely necessary for Peter’s present…but it had also been painful.  Never mind the fact that Peter now knew things about his relationship with Howard and Maria that no other living person had ever heard him say.  Not even Jarvis.  Now, however, he had the wonderful task of telling Peter that most of what he thought he knew about Richard and Mary…was wrong.  “You said your parents worked for the government.  Couriers, I think, right?”

“That’s what Uncle Ben said, yeah.”

“And your dad was in the army.”

“Yes…why?”  Peter looked so bewildered, it made Tony’s heart clench.

The billionaire cleared his throat.  “Yeah…see.  About that.  Your father’s military record is full of holes.  I can find his enlistment information, a record of his additional training in special forces and then…big fat nothing.  His activity is so black ops, there’s no digital record of it.  Do you know how clandestine that shit has to be for the government to be afraid to leave an electronic footprint for any of it?”

Peter was completely motionless in his seat.  He wasn’t speaking.  Wasn’t moving.  Wasn’t even fucking breathing.  He was just staring at Tony like he’d been physically frozen.

“Peter?”

Nothing.

“Baby?”

Still nothing.

“Did I break you?  If I was going to break you, I was really thinking it was going to be in the bedroom…”

Not even a response to that.

Damn.

Tony grimaced, but continued.  “So…uh…he served under a friend of ours.  Nick Fury.  Remember him from the gala…”

“Nick Fucking Fury knew my dad!”  Peter had almost launched himself into the windshield at that piece of information.  His reaction and the strong language were so unexpected that Tony cracked his head on the roof of the sports car from jumping in his seat.  

“Fuck, kid.”  He was going to have a lump, not that Tony was too concerned about that when he saw Peter’s reaction.  

Peter was actually shaking.  At least his hands were.  “You don’t understand, Tony.  I know him.  In the future.  You know him too.  Everyone knows him…even my dad, apparently.  And Mr. Fury never said anything.  Nothing.  How could he not say anything?  He has to know who my dad is.  There’s no way he doesn’t know…”

“My best guess?  He hasn’t said anything because he had something to do with why they died and he doesn’t want to have that awkward conversation.”

Peter was back to sitting completely still again.  “Tony��what are you leaving out?”

He was almost afraid to go on, but there really was no going back now.  “Last year, your father was recruited into S.H.I.E.L.D. by his former C.O…Fury.  He’s been an active field agent ever since.  Your mother…she was recruited into S.H.I.E.L.D. right out of college…”

“My mom is a secret agent too!”  Peter fell back in the car seat, hands covering his face with a small, muffled moan.

“Kind of…she’s actually where you get your smarts.  She’s an up and coming star in the science division, if what I found through a bit of hacking is any indication.”

Peter was peaking through his fingers now.  “She is?”

“Oh yeah, genius level smart for sure.  Tech.  Forensics.  She does it all…”

“That’s…Ben and May never mentioned that.”

“I’m not sure they knew, Peter.”

Slowly, the teenager sat back up, smiling just a little.  “So my mom’s smart and my dad’s a hero…”

“The spider doesn’t fall far from the tree.”  Tony couldn’t help but smirk at the flush that began to climb the teen’s cheeks.

“Uh…so…what…are we doing here?”  Peter made a broad gesture at the park beyond the car.

“Ah, yes, well…we lucked out, actually.  I was really worried I wouldn’t be able to come up with a good way for our paths to intersect.  But, according to my PI…your parents are having their wedding rehearsal here this morning.  So, I’m hoping we can find a reason to…be friendly.”

“I’m actually famous for how friendly I am.”  Peter was bouncing in his seat again.  “So…they’re getting married soon, then.”

“In a couple of days, yeah.”

“Wow, this is…this is nuts.  I…don’t even know what to say, Tony.  I never thought…I mean they’re names.  To me they’ve just always been names.  And pictures.  Videos.  Not people.  Not to me.  Not really.  No real memories.  Just…flat.  And now they’re going to be real.  I never thought they’d ever feel real…  This means…it means a lot to me.”  Tony was startled to see the kid actually blinking back tears.  

Scrubbing a hand over his jaw, Tony tried to shrug the display of emotion off.  “It was nothing, really.  Just something I thought you’d enjoy…”

“Thank you.”  Peter’s voice was actually choked up now and there were full fledged tears and Tony was at a loss for what to do so he just gave an awkward smile.

“I’d do anything for you, Beautiful.”

“I know.”  He did?  “And you don’t…you don’t have to actually say it, Tony, you know?  Cause I know…it’s hard for you…and you do things like this…which are honestly just as good.  I don’t know if I’m allowed to say it, either, but this once…cause it’s my birthday and you did all of this for me…”  Peter’s rambling drifted off for a moment.  Some part of Tony actually hoped the kid was going to drop it there, but he didn’t.  “And I just want to say that I love you, too.”

Well, fuck.

He’d gone and said it and that tiny thread of denial Tony had been clinging to snapped.

He could actually feel himself falling.  Right up until that moment he’d thought ‘falling in love’ was a euphemism.  But, nope.  He felt the impact to the depths of his soul.  Despite this, Tony did his best to sound unaffected, but he could tell from the sparkle in Peter’s eyes that the kid caught the sudden thickness to Tony’s voice, the slight stutter before he found his words again.  “Al…alright, Peter, enough of that.  We have a wedding rehearsal to crash.”

—

Peter could hardly believe it was really happening.  He was going to talk to his parents.  Maybe get to shake their hands.  He’d be able to hear their voices and their laughs and their personalities and he’d never, ever have to wonder what they were really like ever again.  Not only that, but the things he’d learned about them already!  His father was practically James Bond!  How cool was that?  Ned was going to lose his mind!  And his mom, his mom was smart.  If his dad was James Bond than his mom was totally Q and that might actually be even more impressive to Ned.  Peter figured his ‘guy in the chair’ was probably going to be way more excited about Peter’s Mom being the ‘woman in the lab’.  It was all so awesome, so unbelievable that he had absolutely no words to explain to Tony just how much this whole thing meant to him.

As the two men made their way from their car to the wedding venue, Peter casually let his fingers graze Tony’s hand, his gaze darting over to look for some reaction from the older man.  Tony raised an eyebrow, rolling his eyes playfully before he took Peter’s hand in his own and gave it a little squeeze.  “You’re so lucky it’s your birthday, Parker.”

“Nah, I’m just lucky period.”  Peter would have never considered himself a lucky guy before.  In fact, he’d always thought the ‘Parker Luck’ was always more on the bad side of things…but maybe luck could change because ever since he’d found himself in the middle of that ballroom being visually devoured by a young Tony Stark, he’d been the luckiest guy on the planet.

“Look alive, Kid.”  Tony gave his hand another squeeze and gestured with a nod of his head towards the lone figure a few yards ahead.

No doubt to Tony he was still indistinct, but Peter’s senses were quite a bit more acute.  He could see the man with crystal clarity and just the sight of him sent Peter’s heart into excitement induced arrhythmias.  “Oh my God, it’s really him.”  The man from the pictures.  His dad.

Richard Parker was of average height and leanly muscled with dark hair that appeared to bear the hint of Peter’s curls underneath the thick layer of styling gel that was struggling to hold it in place.  Peter had always thought he looked more like his mother, but he caught subtle pieces of Richard that reminded him of his own reflection now that he was looking at the man in the flesh.

Apparently, Richard had also seen them approaching.  Brow furrowed questioningly, he waited for them to come closer before he called out.  “Good morning.  This is a far cry from Manhattan, Mr. Stark.”

Tony chuckled beside Peter, dropping the boy’s hand.  “I hope we’re not disturbing anything, had an appointment to check out the Park and thought I’d get here a little early to look at things without an audience.  Are you Mr. Seston?”

“No, my fiance and I are having our wedding rehearsal here this morning…or we were supposed to.  The girls were stranded and my brother had to save them.”  He glanced at his watch.  “I’m afraid we may not have time to run through everything if you have an appointment with Seston, soon.”

Tony made a dismissive gesture with his hand.  “I don’t want my appointment to interfere with your wedding.  You probably got the whole song and dance when you booked this place, right?  Why don’t you walk us around, then you can take your time with your rehearsal.”

Richard looked surprised by the generous offer.  Actually, Peter was too.  “That’s awfully kind of you, Mr. Stark.  I’m Richard Parker.”  He held out his hand which Tony took in a firm handshake before Richard turned his attention to Peter.  He held out that same hand again and Peter suddenly felt overwhelmed.  He meant to take the man’s hand.  He really did, but some embarrassing instinct took over and before he realized what he was doing, he had wrapped his father in a tight embrace that had the man stuttering in a very familiar way.  “Uh…well…okay…um…you’re…you’re pretty friendly, aren’t you?”

“He’s famous for it, actually.”  Tony’s sardonic tone snapped Peter back into reality.  Pushing back with a deep flush, Peter looked up at his father as he stepped back and the man spoke a sentence that made him wish he was dead.

“Yes, I know, he was extremely friendly at your gala.”

“Wuh…”  In the fraction of a second, Peter went from a scarlet flush to a sickly pale hue at the implications.  “You…you were…you were there?”

“Yeah…don’t worry if you don’t recognize me.  You two seemed busy…”

Peter staggered backward into a tree, bracing himself against the trunk with one hand as he doubled over and tried not to revisit his birthday breakfast all over the grass at the implication of his father watching him bite the buttons off of Tony’s shirt.

“Is he okay, Mr. Stark?”

“Peter?  Yeah, he’s fine.”  Tony was clearly trying to cover for him, though even Tony’s voice seemed a little strained at that unexpected development.  

“I admit, I was a little worried about you, Peter.  Mr. Stark doesn’t have the best reputation…but clearly if you two are out looking at wedding venues, I didn’t need to worry about him taking advantage of you.”

“What?”  Peter heard Tony echo his words as he straightened up to give his father his full attention.  

“Oh no, we’re not…”  Tony was chuckling nervously, a little too nervously.

“No, no no no no…definitely not.”  Peter was shaking his head vigorously, a bit of color returning to his face.

“Definitely not?”  Tony stressed the word definitely with an eyebrow cocked in a demi-scowl.  “Kid, you’re breaking my heart.  I think five ‘no’s’ was enough without the definitely.”

“Ah come on, Tony, you know I didn’t mean it like that!  It’s only been four months and it’s not like you’re going to actually try to marry me or something so stop embarrassing me in front of my fa…new friend…”  Oh God that was close.  It was also really freaking lame.

Richard appeared to be well and truly amused.  “Follow me, I’ll show you two around.”  Tony let Peter walk beside Richard as the man began to lead them around the wedding venue.  He was clearly trying to remember what he’d been told about the features, but gave up when he realized that neither one of them was really paying attention at all.  “I don’t think I caught you’re full name, Peter.”

“Parker.”  The word left his mouth before he’d even thought better of it.  A fraction of a second later he felt Tony elbow his side subtly and let out a grunt of annoyance.

“Really?”  Richard chuckled.  “Small world, I guess.  That a Queens accent I detect, too?”

Peter could only nod dumbly.  He was saved from further embarrassment by the sound of approaching footsteps.  “Oh, I think your wife’s here!”

It was several awkward minutes before two women and a man crested the hill.

Peter felt his heart stop again.

Ben.

He hadn’t realized until that exact moment that he was going to get to see Ben again, too.  Oh, and young May.  It was Peter’s turn to elbow Tony in the side when he caught Tony checking May out.  His annoyance was forgotten, though, as his gaze moved to his mom.

His mom!

Yeah, Peter was now utterly convinced that he looked a great deal more like his mother than he did his father.  He was only a little taller than her.  Same chestnut hair, same honey-brown eyes.  There features were even similar.  Clearly, he wasn’t the only one who noticed, because Tony was looking back and forth between the two of them with an amused expression on his face.  

“Baby, did you make friends while we were gone?”  Mary took Richard’s arm and rose on her toes to plant a little kiss on his cheek as she surveyed Tony and Peter.  “Oh…one of them is a billionaire!  In that case, bravo, Richie.  I should abandon you in public parks more often.”

Richard was chuckling, shaking his head and staring down at her with such a mixture of affection and exasperation that it took Peter’s breath away.  It might also, kind of, maybe, but not really, but maybe kind of, remind him of the look he caught Tony giving him every once in a while in the lab when the billionaire thought Peter wasn’t looking in his direction.  “Mary, Sweetheart, this is Tony Stark and Peter Parker.”

“Really?”  Peter thought her giggle even kind of sounded like a little like his laugh.  He had no idea he had his mother’s laugh! Before he knew what was happening, he was being drawn into a hug.  “That means we’re practically family Peter!”  His mother’s voice so close to his ear that it sent shivers down his spine as he held onto her and breathed in the scent of her perfume.  Lilies and Amber.  He was never going to be able to smell Lilies and Amber again without thinking of her…and that was so wonderful the thought brought tears to his eyes.

“Looks like you’re not the only hugger here, Beautiful.”  Peter could read the subtext in Tony’s eyes as he was forced to separate from his mother’s hug.  Apparently being friendly was also a family trait.  His parents were just…they were awesome.  They were perfect in every conceivable way!

They were shown around the rest of the venue, Mary holding onto Peter’s arm and walking ahead of them, pointing out all of her favorite parts.  “And I adore all of the natural flora, it was what made me choose the park.  We could save a lot of money on flowers this way.”

“And I agreed, because with fronds like these, who needs anemones?” Richard was quick to join in from Mary’s other side.

Peter let out a snort followed by a laugh that had his father grinning in delight.  “See, Mary, someone likes my jokes!”

Peter heard twin moans coming from May and Ben’s directions.  “Don’t worry, Richard, my chemistry jokes never get a reaction either.”

Mary swatted Peter’s arm.  “Oh, Peter, that was terrible…don’t encourage him or we’ll never hear the end of his jokes!”

“Oh my God, as if one wasn’t enough, now there’s two of them!”  Ben’s teasing was good natured, something so familiar to Peter that without even thinking about it, he turned around to stick his tongue out at the man.

“Are we sure he’s not an actual Parker?  No brother separated at birth or something?”  May’s voice this time.  “If not…you may just have to keep the kid.  He fits right in with the both of you.”

Ben seemed to be considering May’s suggestion a little too seriously, and for a moment Peter felt his pulse race.  “Can’t keep me, May.  I think Tony would miss me too much.”

“Couldn’t live without you, Gorgeous.”  To Peter’s ears, that sounded almost a little too sincere.

“We’ll have to keep them both then.”  Mary gave Peter’s arm a little squeeze.  “You two really must stay for the rehearsal and then join us for lunch.  Nothing beats wedding jitters quite like lovely distractions.”

“Oh, you don’t really want us there..”  Peter could see the look of alarm on Tony’s face as he tried to make excuses.  Maybe he was reconsidering his birthday gift after all.  

Too bad.  Peter wasn’t going to give up time with his parents, now.

“Oh, we’ll definitely stay!”  Peter was quick to interrupt Tony.  What was the man thinking?  They’d gone to all of this trouble to get Peter memories with his parents, and now that his parents both seemed to want them around, Tony was trying to back out?  “I mean, we don’t have anything else to do really.  And it’s my birthday, so…”

“It’s your birthday!”  Mary grabbed his arm again.  “Well now we have two things to celebrate, a wedding and a birthday, and we’re not taking no for an answer!”

The rehearsal was short and before long the six of them were seated around a table at a little Italian restaurant near the park.  It was very early in the afternoon and the lunch rush hadn’t started yet, so they had most of the place to themselves.

Peter was only too happy to quiz his parents on everything from how they’d first met to how Richard had proposed and what they’re plans for the future were.

“Oh we want kids desperately.”  Mary’s expression looked just a little haunted for a moment and May reached out to give her hand a little squeeze.  Peter’s head cocked questioningly at the gesture and Richard cleared his throat.  “Mary had a few health problems when she was younger. They could…make it difficult for her to conceive.  But, like I told her…we won’t know until we try…”

Peter had never known that.   He’d never stopped to think about his parents’ age or how long they’d been married…or even Ben and May’s age come to think of it.  “Yeah…you…you really shouldn’t give up.  Nothing’s impossible unless you accept that it’s impossible.”

“Are you sure he’s not a Parker-Parker?  That sounds just like one of your Parkerisms…like the responsibility schtick of yours Ben.”  May was using a breadstick as a pointer, leveling one end at Peter.  “He’s a cousin or something, I’m telling you!”

Tony cleared his throat loudly, “So, did I hear someone say you were writing your own vows?”

“Oh yes!  We only just decided to do that last week, but I really do not want to promise to ‘obey’ Richard because that’s one promise I’m definitely going to break.”  Mary smirked at them over her glass of wine.  “Actually…maybe we could use you as a test audience?  Make sure they’re just mushy enough without being too over-the-top?  I’ll just run off to the little girl’s room for a minute and let Richard give you a taste of his and then we’ll trade.  It’d be good for us to practice that too, and you two don’t mind, do you?”

“I’d love to hear them!”  Peter was probably a little too enthusiastic about hearing a stranger’s wedding vows, but no one seemed surprised by his excitement at this stage and Tony was quick to echo the sentiment, even if he wasn’t quite as flamboyant about it.

Richard, on the other, looked nervous as he plucked the folded piece of paper from his wallet and cleared his throat about a half a dozen times.  “All right, well, here it goes.  I love you Mary Fitzpatrick.  More than anything else in this world.  I promise to give you every beat of my heart, every breath from my lungs.  Even when there’s distance between us, nothing will ever separate us because you’re a part of me.  The best part.  I don’t want to kill for you or die for you, Mary, I want to live for you and I promise that every day of my life, no matter what it holds, will be spent with you, for you, and beside you until the day it ends.”

“That’s really awesome.  And poetic.  I think she’ll love that!”  Peter was blinking away tears, clutching Tony’s hand under the table.  When he hazarded a glance at the other man, Peter was surprised by the look on his face.  Tony appeared…thoughtful.  Distant.  Perhaps even troubled by Richard’s words.  He met Peter’s gaze and offered a small smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

A few minutes passed and positions were changed.  Now, Mary prepared to recite her vows from memory while Richard hid in the bathroom.

“Richard Parker…you are the bravest, kindest, most honorable man I have ever known.  I know that marriage isn’t easy and that life can be hard.  I know that our careers may make it even harder, but I don’t care.  My love for you is strong enough to conquer anything.  Nothing will ever separate us.  Not money.  Not health.  Not time.  The universe itself could try to push us apart, and I would just push right back…because I promise to fight for you, Richard.  I will fight for you and our love and our marriage…and someday, our family, because you’ve taught me that together we’re a force to be reckoned with.  Together, there’s absolutely nothing that can stop us, that’s my promise to you.”

“Oh wow…Mary.  That’s just..that’s really awesome!  I don’t think you should be nervous about that at all.”

“Thank you, Peter, I’m sure if you like it that Richard will.  You two do seem to have similar tastes, don’t you?”

“Yeah…I guess so.”  Another glance at Tony and Peter was perplexed to see a grim set to Tony’s jaw and that same distant look as he stared down into his wine glass.  He had no idea what the man was thinking, but a part of Peter was a little worried about it.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur.  They parted with promises to meet for drinks after the Parkers returned from their honeymoon and with May demanding some information about Peter’s family so she could delve into his genealogy and prove that he was related to Richard and Ben.  Peter had to keep repeating that he didn’t have a family or any access to his genealogy much to May’s chagrin.

Peter got a parting hug from the entire Parker clan, ending with Ben who held onto his shoulder after they separated.  His voice was soft as he spoke to Peter, gaze trained on Tony as he exchanged numbers with Richard and mary.  “Is that Stark fella good to you, Son?  I know he has a reputation and you said you don’t have a family…”

“Yeah…no…yeah, he’s great.  It’s not like the tabloids make it out to be, Ben.  He cares about me…”

“Well, I want you to take our number and address, Son.  If something happens, if someday he’s not and you need help or somewhere to go or even just an ear or a ride or a bus ticket…you call us, okay?  You may not be family, but you’re a good kid and I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I thought you were going to get into trouble because you had no one to help you out.”

Peter blinked back tears and surged forward for another hug.  “You’re a good man, Ben.  Probably the best man I’ve ever known.  I just…I want to make sure you know that before I go, okay?  That I just…I want to be half the guy you are someday.  Thank you…for everything…and I’ll definitely call you if something happens and I need help.  I promise…don’t worry about me.”

—

Tony was remarkably quiet for the rest of the day, though he did try to make sure that the rest of Peter’s birthday was celebratory.  It was only when they were laying in bed that night that Tony was finally able to gather his thoughts into something coherent and tangible.  “Peter…” , The teenager stirred slightly.  He hadn’t been asleep, but he had been blissfully relaxed, cuddled close to Tony’s chest lost in the blissful afterglow of steamy sex followed by a hot shower and the soft, languid touches that had become common place between them several months ago.  He had only just stopped assuring Tony that this had been the best birthday of his entire life.  The movement of Peter’s hand stopped at the sound of Tony’s voice, palm pressed flat against Tony’s chest as he propped himself up on an elbow to look the older man in the eye.  “Yes?”

“I need you to tell me the truth.”

“I always do, Tony.”

Tony shifted, dislodging Peter and sitting up against the headboard.  He scrubbed his hands across his face several times before he tried again.  “I need you to tell me the truth about the future.”

“What?”  Peter was sitting up in a moment, brown eyes wide with horror and disbelief.  “I can’t!  Tony, I can’t.  The timeline…”

“The timeline is fucked, Peter.  Don’t tell me you haven’t realized that.  You’ve been here too long.  You’ve changed too much.   About me.  You’ve changed too much about me.”

“I…I have?”

“You have.”  He steadied himself with a deep breath, brushing the backs of his fingers along Peter’s jawline.  “Baby, you’re right, I…I love you and I’m not going to be able to let you go.  The Nullifier…we’re close.  Baby, we’re a hell of a lot closer than I’ve been letting on, and I need to know what happens.  I need to know how the Old Man becomes the hero you say he is.  Your parents…they made me realize some things.  I’m not giving in.  We’re not giving in.  I’m not accepting any outcome that doesn’t have you and me together at the end.  I’m taking a page from Richard and Mary Parker.  I’m fighting for you, living for you, all of it.  You’re going to tell me everything.  Everything, Peter.  And then you’re going to trust me to fight for you because you and me…we’re endgame now, whether the universe likes it or not.”

[slut-for-a-cowboy]

Something New

Hey y'all (I love the word y'all so ;_;) so I finally finished. School was a little wild this week but it's cool now. This is a Charthur story, the one I was talking about. Hope you enjoy these sweet gay boys doing sweet gay boy things. Also there are no spoilers (sorta) I just mention a few missions. That's all. Nothing major. Have fun.

The wind gently blew causing the leaves and grass to quietly sway. It was early, bout five, in the morning and they sat in a warm meadow. The temperature was a nice 70 degrees and the sky was partly cloudy. It was truly a nice day, the horses seemed to think so as well as the grazed and snorted happily.

     They were accompanied by the shade of a tree, both Taima and Biscuit were unsaddeled. Taima's white coat and black spots shimered in the little sun that shown through the leaves while she sat there, her front hoves tucked in under her and black mane gently moving with the wind. Biscuit was stood up next to her, eating away at the grass. He was looking relieved to be so relaxed, his back free from the leather that usually sat there and his nostrils clear of the smell of gun smoke. No yelling, no arguing, no running, no loud bangs or booms, it was quiet for once.

     The one who really looked relaxed though was the man proped up against the tree the horses used as shade. His hat was tipped over his face, one hand rested on his stomach while the other laid free on the grass. He was free of his guns, other than his revolver, and extra holsters. He had nothing on him other than his satchel, journal, and revolver.

     Charles looked at him with a content smile as he snored quietly, completely undisturbed. This was really the first time he had even witnessed the man sleep since these past three days. There had been so much going on. They had a huge run in with the O'Driscolls, a stagecoach robbing that went completely wrong, burning down the Gray's tobacco fileds, and trying our best to save Trelawny but Arthur almost getting taken in the process by a bounty hunter.

    It still riles Charles up every time he thinks of that man. He would have done so much worse to him if he could've gotten his hands on the man before he could have killed Arthur. He doesn't understand why it made him so mad though, plenty more has happened to Arthur and he hasn't felt that protective of him. Maybe it was the way the bastard did it. Having him helplessly squirm for air as he choked him with a rope around his neck, offering him money in exchange for his friend. Just throwing a knife at him and hitting the man just right to kill him almost wasn't satisfying enough. It really wasn't, but it's okay. As long as Arthur is okay, it'll be fine. That's all Charles cared about.

     He tried not to be a creep but he couldn't help himself but stare at the slightly older man in front of him. He was so calm, it was a first for him. Charles fell in love with him just a little bit more, though he felt that was impossible. He sighed to himself and began to braid his hair.

     Taima lifted her head as she sat beside the sleeping cowboy. She turned her head towards him and nibbled at his hair, knocking his hat off his head and waking him.

     "Taima, stop it. Let him be, girl," Charles practically whisper yelled at his steed. Arthur stirred before looking up and smiling at her. She huffed in his ear, demanding attention from the man. This earned her a scoffed laugh and one or two pats.

     "She's a sassy one ain't she," Arthur smiled a like, his voice a little more rough than usual, probably from the nap though. She turned away, looking like a wise old horse but she was still pretty young.

     "I'm sorry about that, Arthur. I think she just takes a liking in you," Charles chuckled under his breath as he stared at the other, kinda memorized in a way, but he shrugged it off.

     "Nah, it's okay. Even if I'm tired it's a delight waking up to her and not some angry man trying to cause some trouble," he put his ole' hat back on and then caught Charles's gaze. It took him a second, but he looked at him with a furrowed brow. The darker man could see the small bit of curiosity wash over his face, "what's that that you're doing with you hair... With all the twists and knots and stuff..?"

     "Nothing much, just braiding it so it doesn't get in my way with all this wind," Charles continued to braid his hair all the way down and put a tie in it swiftly so it would hold. He swooped it off his shoulder and looked back at Arthur. It was cute, almost amusing, to see the look of amazement on his face. He just couldn't figure out he did that and with such grace too. The braids where almost perfect.

     "How did you do that? It looks.. Really good," he asked and Charles looked at him for a second, a little longer than intended, but then got up and walked over to his horse. He sat down next to her and patted the space right next to him for Arthur to sit. The smaller man did so and they sat there with there legs crossed.

     "It's not that difficult. You're gonna take a lock of hair," Charles tried his best to guide him through the steps with his steeds mane; he made sure to take his on set so he could visually show him as well.

     Arthur follow and hummed as he did so, "now separate that into three pieces," Charles went on, his fingers were placed odd. Arthur looked at his hands for a moment and tried to comprehend how to do that. He quickly picked up and found how to place his fingers. He nodded for Charles to go on.

     "Last step, all you gotta do is simply take your left strand and go over the middle, then you will take your right strand and go over the middle. You do that pattern till you get to the end of your lock," he tried to do it slowly but got to the end of her mane maybe a little too fast for the older man.

     He sat there and squinted his eyes a bit at Charles's freshly made braid and then looked back at his yet to be disaster. He then bit his tounge and tried to mimic what he was just told but he struggled. He failed and failed again only causing the Indian to chuckle at his futile attempts.

     "Oh don't you laugh at me, Mr. Smith~ I'm merely a beginner," he jested at him but then tried to concentrate on the braid once more. This only made the younger smile.

     "Well it fuels my amusement how hard you seem to be trying at this, Mr. Morgan. Look, let me help you, come closer," Charles insisted and Arthur did so. They were so close their knees and shoulders were touching, which was hard to avoid anyways since they both were pretty broad men. The taller man set both his hands over Arthur's and positioned each other's fingers. Arthur could feel himself getting a little warm in the face as he felt Charles's hands against his. He had the urge to hold his hand and sit there; just feeling every single crease and scar that lived in the palm of his hand, but he pushed those feelings to the back of his head. Oh how he wanted Charles for his own but that was so wrong. So outta place. It just wasn't right, but he couldn't resist the thought.

     His rich voice snapped him outta his thoughts, "so you go over the middle with the left, then over the middle with the right. Now, you just do that over and over again till you get to the end," Arthur could almost hear his smile as he talked, finishing the braid. A small smirk appeared on the lighter man's face as he slowly understood how to do such.

     "Oh! I think I got it," Arthur exclaimed, almost excited he sounded. It was a little foreign to hear him speak with such a tone, he liked it though. Charles moved his hands away but the two didn't move apart, not even for a second did it cross their mind to loose this type of contact, though it was simple.

     Arthur grabbed another lock of the horses mane. She snorted and huffed before looking up at Biscuit. Biscuit seemed to lift his head to look at her, but then looked away, tending to the grass. He looked away with such an attitude it even looked like the peachy tan mustang rolled his eyes.

     Arthur positioned his fingers and began. He went down her mane slow so he could get it right. He made it to the end and shown a very quaint smile. It was messy but he did it. You could see the accomplishment beam in his eyes. It was something so small, but it enlightened him for some reason he wasn't sure of.

     Charles made a soft little noise that was accompanied by a smile. He patted Arthur's thigh, "See, I told you it wasn't all that hard. I knew you could do it." Arthur hummed in approval.

     Charles turned to look at him and of course he looked back. There was a moment of silence as they couldn't break eye contact. Those green eyes hooked onto the taller man's dark brown ones, causing him to curse under his breath. They both felt butterflies arise in their chests; it was a strange feeling for the two.

     Arthur got an idea but quickly hesitated and looked away, "damn it, don't go and make it awkward you idiot" he thought to himself, bitting his tongue so hard he could taste metal. In one quick motion he lifted his head and pecked him on the cheek but then looked away once more. It happened with such haste Charles didn't even know it happen till a second after, it registered. A look of bewilderment was set upon his face, staring at the other.

     The cowboy's face became redder than the sun in the evening as he dared not look up at him. He felt so dumb and like a young teenage girl as well. He just kissed him on the cheek and now he's afraid to even look at him. That wasn't what a man did, but there was something about Charles that made him feel so submissive and he didn't understand it. He almost hated it because it caused him to do things like this.

     "God damn it Arthur," Charles raised his voice a little causing the older to flinch and grow pale. His face still very red with embarrassment. He messed up.

     "I-i-i know that was stupid a-and wrong. I-it wasn't even all that impressive! It was cowardly an-" before he could run on and on about how he fucked up Charles cut him off quickly.

     "Stop being so damn presious!" he turned to look at him and pulled him in, by his shirt collar, to kiss him. All that was heard was the softest yelp of surprise from Arthur before he relaxed and began to kiss back. His hat fell off once more but he didn't care. If anything that gave him the chance to deepen the kiss. Charles's hands let go of his shirt and moved down to his waist. The other was turned towards him now, his arms around the younger's neck. They slowly broke apart, not but three inches away from each other.

     "I think you lost your hat cowboy," Charles joked as his grabbed Arthur's hat and put it on him.

     Arthur chuckled, "I don't think I needed it anyways."

     "I'd like to agree with you there. It doesn't matter if you have it or not, you're still one hell of a handsome sight to look at," Charles responded in a playfully flirty tone, one that Arthur was very new to. He adored it, but it made him feel almost every type of way he was insecure of. He hadn't felt this way in years, it seems.

     He looked off to the side a little, bashfully, mumbling just enough for Charles to hear, "you sure you're talking to the right person..?"

     "Oh hush up! You can't deny it. You're smiling!" Charles teased as he laughed to see the bit of surprise appear on his face. It was like he didn't realize he was smiling, which he actually didn't.

     "Damn it" he coarsely whispered under his breath before burying his face into the crook of Charles's neck. The taller one smiled and let the morning wind take the conversation somewhere else as they embraced each other. Arthur was happy and that made him happy. That's all he needed in life, for the other to be happy. He was satisfied with that.

     "Do you wanna head back to camp or go hunting? I think I over heard Pearson saying we were close to running low," Arthur asked. Though it was muffled Charles answered back.

     "We can go get some meat. That would be a good idea," Arthur lifted his head and nodded, fixing his hat.

     "Then I guess we best get going," they let go and Charles began to get up, but before he could Arthur gave him a quick peck on the lips. This brought a smile to Charles's face but before he could say anything back Arthur was already saddling Biscuit up. Charles was right behind him as he grabbed Taima's saddle and did the same.

They both couldn't wipe the smiles from their faces all day. The girls were all in their business trying to figure out why they were so giddy looking. Every now and then the two held eye contact a little bit longer than usual and it was clear to the girls that they were two fools in love.

That night Arthur couldn't help but lose himself in thought as he laid there on his cot. Maybe this could be the start of something new? Maybe he wouldn't be such a fool this time.

[the-nysh]

While I fully maintain belief that episode 10 was THE best of the season when it comes animation (not necessarily the visuals because Darkshine looked like the only association that would scout him out is the monster one) I must confess a Gripe: Garou is drawn way too damn beefy. Like an actual slab of ham. And he's not! He's lean and muscly, like Michelangelo spent two years chiselling him out of a block of gleaming marble, and not hunky like the pharmacy had a season-long sale on steroids

(pt2):

Anime Garou looks like he'd emerge out of a pond and walk towards me with "I like em chunky" playing ominously in the background which is while weirdly hot also really off model. But to be fair while I originally wanted a studio notoriously horny for bad men and good animation like bones or ufotable to work on s3 for the innocent reasons of getting G putting a shirt on animated in a crisp 1080p60fps ultra HD AntiAliasing FXAA Vsync on with volumetric lighting, all handdrawn on canvas in blood

(pt3):

I'd now be fine with the whole sequence up to him being beaten to near death by RR and his boyfriend making it to episode 12 just so anime-onlys could freak when they find out this french window of a man couldn't legally drink in the states. And yes anyways, I know this is a very threat level dog thing to get worked up about but maybe it's because Garou hasn't been in the manga for over 395 days and I'm about to enter severe physical withdrawals from that glaring absence. However, sperm hype.

*chokes from the unexpected rant of hilarity* Wh– oh my god, anon...your analogies are priceless. X’D I’m sitting here in stitches, holy shittt. Like these are some of the funniest descriptions I’ve seen for him in a long while, ahahaha.

But I can understand where you’re coming from about the beefy Garou stuff. Murata’s body type for him has a smaller frame and slender build than what might be typically expected for muscly characters. He’s compact and lean, but extremely chiseled/toned (no competition in the back muscle dept) without getting all hulking. A difficult balance to portray between drawing him all noodly or swole. (Cause he’s like a unique yet confusing mix of both.) So with that said, I can kinda understand how the anime team may not quite have his body type down, or...put it this way, maybe their preferred type is for those beefier builds, ahaha. :P Either way, I’m not bothered by the difference too much. I can still see where they place their priorities ahaha.

But oho, now you remind me of just where they could possibly end the season...cause the more they tease, the more confused I get on how far they might be planning to go after EC. Cause while EC’s the big flashy expected spectacle, the stuff that comes after (with RR and stuff) is the cooldown+followup to everything else...such that it’d feel cruel to cut things off right at the moment anime-onlys were starting to get to know his character better. Or like...building and hyping everything up this season just to end us hanging when things finally start ramping up. (Plus, if a potential s3/diff studio picks things up starting with the EC followup several years down the line...then welp, won’t that disconnect feel awkward.) Then again, at the pace JC Staff’s going, they *could* potentially finish EC next ep, and leave ep 12 for the cooldown/followup/leadup that comes later...but whew, that might be cutting it close. Just gotta wait and see I guess!

Oh, but ahhh, that withdrawal from his manga reappearance, I totally understand. :’D Here ONE’s left us all hanging for over a year (hhh it was 5yrs in the webcomic ;A;) on his condition after Orochi...is he even ok? Did Psykos even do anything evil to him after he got knocked out!? Just auggh, I’m so antsy;; Meanwhile ONE’s been bringing all the other major players together, but he’s still yet to address this lingering missing elephant in the room. Ahaha, but it’s just like another buddy of mine has said about it: after putting their characters on hold for a while, we’re all still waiting for when Mr. Sleeping Beauty will awaken and Mr. Stress Cleaning (Genos) will finally join the party to properly enter the stage again. :’D (expecting lots of excited fanfare, esp from Murata) So yep, just gotta wait until ONE feels it’s time (Black Sperm’s current hype indeed!)

[404botnotfound]

Hope

SERIES: Destiny WORD COUNT: 3,719 CHARACTERS: kel, @gildedskeleton​‘s Sloane, @tagyourjakku​‘s Vera, lord shaxx

rewrite of an older fic bc i’m apparently determined to give facelifts to all of my older stuff.

When she comes to, the first thing Sloane notices is a steady beeping.

Her eyes blink open slowly, blurry vision settling on machinery that takes her several long seconds to identify as medical in nature—assumably, it’s what’s making the beeping.

She wants the beeping to stop.

A groan leaves her. Every bit of her body and mind feels sluggish, her senses dulled and delayed like a heavy static has settled over her and is determined to keep her from who she is where she is why she’s here.

Medical equipment. A flat and uncomfortable hospital bed. Sterile white surroundings. That Sky-damned beeping.

She’s in the med-wing of the Tower. Was the obfuscation of her senses a result of drugs? It’s the only conclusion she can come to.

Even through the haze of whatever drugs are pumping through her veins she feels exhausted, tired for a reason she can’t fathom or can’t remember. Had there been an accident out in the field? Why couldn’t she remember? Where had she been before?

No answers are forthcoming, and she decides it’s in her best interests to just go with it and turns her head back onto the pillow. Her eyes slide shut.

For whatever reason, the idea of falling asleep again just scares her. Why?

Slowly, infuriatingly slowly, her brain supplies her images—all the nightmares of past days-weeks-months, the whispering hiding in the dark corners of her mind and thoughts, the fear the panic.

She see Shaxx and Vera’s worried faces.

She hears a gunshot.

Her eyes snap open, the exhaustion not so much vanishing as pushed away in favor of anxiety. Of fear. Why is she so afraid? Gunshots were an everyday occurence for guardians. Their entire existence revolved around gunfire and fighting and danger.

Why am I so afraid?

The gunshot echoes between her ears, and with the numbing haze of the drags washing away with sudden clarity Sloane can feel the soreness in her back, the ache in her neck. Something has happened, they weren’t just everyday aches and pains. Something something…

What?

There’s no visual accompanying the sound in her head, nothing to tell her why it’s there or what it’s supposed to mean or why the hell it scares her so much.

Swallowing the stone that had settled in her throat Sloane presses her eyes shut and wills the anxiety wriggling in her stomach to vanish, to go away—begs the whispering in the back of her head to leave because she doesn’t want it and she’s tired of dealing with it.

Something had happened. Did it have something to do with those whispers?

Her senses return to her agonizingly slow and when they do she realizes, with no small amount of bittersweet amusement, that a light-binding cuff is keeping her restrained to the rail on the side of the bed.

There was another clue that made the wriggling in her stomach intensify; something had happened, the whispers were back, and someone didn’t trust her to be moving freely. Whatever it was that had landed her here, it hadn’t been good.

Everything she’s been struggling with, of late, made the words ‘it hadn’t been good’ fall so woefully short.

Her thoughts drift into anxious emptiness, the static clearing for just long enough—

—someone is in the room with her.

Eyes snapping open she jolts upright on the cot and drags her eyes around, taking in everything she can and not seeing a damn thing that could be causing the hair-raising feeling of being watched.

What now? Hallucinations instead of just voices? Phantoms that accompany the whispers? Ones that plague her presence and tell her to attack the people she cares about? To bleed them of their light and leave them dark and empty?

Her body is wrought with an animal fear that has her tense to the point of painful.

No one is in the room. Someone is, but no one is.

Swallowing again, she looks around one more time with slower and more careful eyes—and then she catches sight of white hair at the foot of her bed. Her throat restricts in panic and horror.

A little girl. Her little girl. The same white hair and the same light blue skin, coruscating with light and her eyes dark and curious. There’s nothing but pure innocence in her gaze, but even if Sloane didn’t know acutely why her little girl shouldn’t be here she can feel the crawling over her skin intensify under Stella’s stare.

“Ignore it.” A man’s voice says out of thin air. Sloane nearly screams at it, her heart leaping into her throat and gaze once again whipping around the room; this time she catches sight of the slight shimmer in the air that’s settled in the darkest corner of the stark white room. “It’s what I do.”

Out of the shimmer materializes the form of a hunter that had been completely immobile and silent, hidden by one of the light-given abilities of his class.

He’s tall, athletically built, and wearing dark clothes underneath burnished armor that’s equally as dark. Greaves, gauntlets, a chest plate—light and functional and typical of hunters. The pieces of armor have accents of forest green and are covered in scorch marks and scratches, remnants of dents that couldn’t be completely hammered out. Even the cloak he wore, pitch black with a thin edge of venom-green along the edge of the hood, is ripped and tattered where it brushes booted ankles.

Visual tales of hard-fought battles and fights to survive, ones that he came out of alive but maybe not unscathed.

This was a hunter that’s been alive for a very long time.

The helmet he wears is stark black and featureless. He doesn’t remove it.

Most guardians would remove their helmets to speak to one another while in secure zones, whether it be for polite courtesy or just a desire to be more emotive. At first Sloane thinks that he isn’t doing so because he doesn’t feel she’s safe to be around, but something in her gut tells her that it’s just the way this hunter is.

She stares at the impartial and empty visor, trying to get some kind of read on the man from body language or anything, but he’s offering nothing outwardly. Not so much as a twitch of a finger.

Something draws her eyes down, and when they light on the handgun strapped to his thigh she wonders how she missed it the first time. It’s ichor-black, the frame jagged like teeth or thorns, and all along the barrel it pulses with sickly green light.

She must be imagining the way it almost seems—hungry. It’s just a gun. Whatever issues she’s dealing with, it has to be her imagination.

“You see her too?” She finally asks after a length, her tongue leaden within her mouth.

His head turns towards the foot of her bed and she follows his gaze.

Her little girl is gone.

Great, so she is seeing phantoms on top of everything else. Weakly hysterical laughter bubbles in her throat but she swallows it down.

“It looked like a ‘her’ to you?” He asks, and she blinks back over at him, confused.

“I thought you implied you could see her, too?”

His arms fold over his chest at the question but his head doesn’t turn back towards her, almost like he’s waiting for her to show up again. He doesn’t seem to have any desire to step closer to her while they speak. “I saw a shadow. That ghost is yours, not mine. Suppose being able to see it despite that is a...gift.”

She shivers in response, only managing to push away the fear by latching onto a piece of his answer. “You see ghosts?”

“Have for hundreds of years.” He answers, finally returning his focus back to her. She’s not sure if it’s an improvement. “Little girl. Blonde hair, bright smile, frilly pink dress. Never talked until recently. Quiet whispers.”

He’s staring at her, and the completely empty aura he’s putting off is making her skin crawl just as much as her little girl’s presence had—no, wait. It’s not empty, it’s just...cold. Carefully impassive.

Eager for something to keep her from the subject of whispers and ghosts, Sloane allows her curiosity to take over and she studies the hunter a bit more carefully.

He’s completely still where he stands, almost to the point where it’s difficult to discern if he’s even breathing. Every movement he’s made up to this point from the simple turns of his head to the slow but deliberate shift as he crossed his arms, it all spoke of absolute control to her. Like he’s pouring every ounce of his focus into restraining his entire being from everything around him.

Like he’s trying to be a blank slate, an empty husk. Unapproachable. Unnerving.

She wonders why.

“She was yours?” Sloane asks finally, not sure if she should. Her eyes flick back over to the end of the bed with discomfort, knowing that she’s certainly not comfortable with her own painful reminder.

His response is delayed and heavy. “Long time ago. Does yours whisper to you?”

Her breathing catches at the question and her eyes widen slightly. It’s a bad time for the whispering that had been nothing but a quiet haze at the back of her mind to crescendo into a dull roar, but she can’t control when and where the voices decide to coerce her with dark urges.

It can’t be her little girl that had been tormenting her with all these black thoughts recently. Not only was she—gone, not only that, but it wasn’t possible.

She’s not fine, and she knows that the blackness that had been pooling between her ears ever since that accident with SIVA wasn’t normal. Was she going insane? Had she dug just the slightest bit too deep, just like Toland the Shattered had once?

Was she going to be kept from Shaxx and Vera, exiled from the City for being corrupted?

Terror grips at her heart and she opens her mouth to lie that she has no idea what he’s talking about.

“There’s a darkness clinging to you.” He says, cutting her off before the words can even leave her mouth. For the first time she can hear emotion in his voice; barely a ripple, almost imperceptible, but the concerned frustration is enough to break through his impassivity. “I can feel it.”

Her vision blurs with panic that threatens to choke and overwhelm her and she drops her gaze to the sheets her hands are fisted in. She’s known it since they brought her out of the Plaguelands. SIVA had marked her to the point that not even Buddy could completely repair her.

The nightmares were evidence enough, but the fact that she’s stabbed herself and keeps having to resist her own impulses to harm the people she cares for—

“You nearly shot Ikora Rey.”

Shock jolts her out of the panic and her eyes snap back up to him. “What?”

“I heard Shaxx...talking about it.”

The way he hesitates before saying ‘talking’ has a trace of amusement to it; based on her own knowledge of the titan she knows that what he actually means is he had probably been arguing with someone about the event. Loudly.

The event which she...can’t…

The gunshot.

Oh, Sky help her.

Inhaling sharply Sloane lifts her hands and presses them into the sides of her skull, tries once again to will the cacophony of voices that aren’t hers to subside, to be quiet, to leave her alone. “I didn’t mean...I don’t—is she?”

“She’s fine.” His answer is quick and, she thinks, just the slightest bit gentle. For someone so consciously, tightly contained and controlled, it says a lot. “You lost control. People were there to intervene.”

The statement gives her no comfort. She had nearly shot a Vanguard member. She had attacked someone. A whimper of fear bubbles in her throat.

“For what it’s worth, you aren’t the first to lose control in the Vanguard’s presence. Eris Morn spoke on behalf of one other beside you. They know that wasn’t you.” His voice is even quieter and much more obviously warm.

But she catches the second meaning in his words, and when she opens her eyes she levels them on the hand cannon at his side, staring and wondering.

She looks him in what she hopes is the eye again, her hands shaking as she lowers them back to her lap. She knows this hunter, now that she thinks about it—doesn’t she? He was clearly a veteran, knows Shaxx well enough to find amusement in his typically toothless temper.

He couldn’t mean he was the other one, could he?

His head tilts to the side ever so slightly. Could he tell where her thoughts had gone? “You’ll regain their trust. You just have to learn to control it.”

“Control what?” She asks, her voice hoarse and strained; the throbbing in her skull makes it hard to think. “What is happening to me?”

The whispers are wild and overwhelming, greedy and grasping and leaving flashes of red and black sinew in the corners of her vision; they want her to find the nearest weapon and rend this hunter to shreds.

“The darkness you faced is digging its fingers into you, and it’s going to keep digging until it wins and you dance like a puppet on its strings. You need to find the strength to push back. To fight it.” He must have known that her question was more rhetorical than anything else, but the fact he has an answer for her all but confirms her earlier question.

He knows exactly what she’s going through. He understands it intimately, regardless of how it took shape for him. Whether it was the little girl he mentioned or some other outside force, perhaps a kind of madness he’d been reborn with.

She doesn’t know what this is and doesn’t know how to get rid of it, but she wants it gone. The phantoms, the whispers, the stifling haze of losing control, all of it. It has her backed into a corner without a way to fight back and without a way to escape.

However he had fought it back, she didn’t have it. How do you fight against something intangible, something within your own mind?

“Look at me.” He says, and she blinks as it brings her out of the panic that had begun to build again, her eyes refocusing on him. His words are firm and unyielding, almost as though he’s trying to project his own strength and control into her. “The darkness will make you think your light is gone. Like you’re trapped in the black and there’s no way out. It’ll use that fear if you let it.”

“And what if the light is gone?” She demands, her voice cracking and her eyes welling up.

The hunter takes a single step forward. “The light isn’t ever gone. It can be trapped, choked, diminished—but it’s always there. If you can’t find it in yourself, you let others lead you back to it.”

Her throat constricts with some unnameable emotion. She says nothing, the words not coming and all the questions she has jumbled and nonsensical.

“Hope is a hard thing to kill.” He says, voice quiet. “It can die, but only if you give up on it. Only if you let yourself believe it’s gone. And when you do, you’ll do things that’ll make you sick and ashamed. So you have to fight to keep hope from dying. You find it, you grab hold of it in whatever form it takes, and you don’t let go. Ever. Not even when it flickers.”

She swallows, wringing her hands together anxiously; he knows what this is. He knows, and he’s telling her how to fight it. Hope is a hard thing to kill. Even embers can start a roaring, sweeping fire.

Whatever black haze in her mind hisses at her or at him or at both of them, trying to grasp that knowledge and rip it away from her.

Find your hope. Grab it. Don’t let go.

So she does. “Does it go away?”

He’s silent for a long, heavy pause. “No.”

Her lips tremble at the answer. Find your hope. Find....find it. Don’t let go.

“You can’t let yourself stop fighting it. You know what it is now. Recognize when it’s trying to take control. Fight it like you’ve got nothing to lose. Fight it harder if you do have something to lose.”

With a shaky exhale Sloane lifts her hands and drags them down her face, and she fights. She reaches for every ounce of strength that tries to flee from her and she wills the angry hissing and whispers at the back of her mind away.

She thinks of Shaxx and Vera, of their smiles and laughter and her lips twitch into a smile at the memory of Shaxx once throwing her over his shoulder so he could run off while Vera chased.

The whispers are drowned out.

The hunter waits patiently, completely silent until she looks wearily over at him. No longer is his aura cold and dispassionate; he almost seems...satisfied. Proud. Is she imagining it?

He’s incredibly difficult to read.

“What’s your name?” She asks him.

Whether he was going to answer or not, the door to the room slides open with a sudden hiss and both her and the hunter’s attention move to the doorway. Through it steps Vera, followed shortly by Shaxx’s imposing form—

The titan goes rigid upon catching sight of the hunter, his fists clenching tightly at his sides; Sloane doesn’t need to see his face behind the flat visor of his horned helmet to know some kind of fury has overtaken him.

Vera notices it as well and stops next to Sloane’s bed, blinking first at Shaxx and then following his gaze to the hunter—who’s gone back to standing as still and as silent as the grave, the aura of aloof coldness returning.

She doesn’t know the hunter well enough to tell, but she knows stillness with Shaxx usually spoke of impending violence.

“Shaxx, it’s okay. He’s—”

“You’re not going to convince him I’m a friend.” The hunter cuts her off, and both her and Vera look at him. He doesn’t look away from Shaxx. Probably wise considering at the moment Shaxx looks about five seconds from attempting to liberate the hunter’s limbs from his body. “I was, once.”

“And you never will be again, Dredgen. You don’t belong here.” Shaxx says, electricity sparking around his arms. Sloane has never heard him this angry before.

“No, I don’t.” The hunter agrees, completely unbothered by whatever damning accusation Shaxx was leveling onto him. No, not unbothered. Just...accepting of it.

Wait—Dredgen? Why does she know that word? That name?

Dredgen Yor. She can feel herself pale at the cold realization, her wide eyes going back to the hunter and flickering once again to the black hand cannon he carried. Was he—could he be? The legendary Dredgen Yor hadn’t been seen in hundreds upon hundreds of years, and this hunter was old.

But if he was, why would he help her? She’s heard the stories, the whispers, seen the infinitesimally small words written in the margins of texts. Wasn’t the darkness his game? Why would he give her to tools to fight it, if he were one and the same?

He couldn’t be.

“You still hold that vile weapon, and you have the gall to step foot in the City?” Shaxx’s voice rises in volume.

Now the hunter just seems amused. “Believe it or not, old friend, I was invited.”

Shaxx advances on him with threat lining every tense muscle in his body. “Do you expect me to believe that one of our own would risk unleashing a guardian killer on the City? You are a monster corrupted by the very things we fight.”

Guardian killer. She sucks in a breath—hadn’t there been a true death, recently? One within a Crucible match, one that had left Shaxx furious for weeks? Is that what he was referring to?

“Do you call Eris a monster to her face?” The hunter asks pointedly, not so much as flinching at Shaxx’s attempt at intimidation. His arms drop to his sides and he nods over at Sloane, causing her to stiffen. “Are you going to call her that to her face?”

Shaxx’s imposing fury is doused by the question, confusion replacing it like a bucket tossed over a campfire.

All three of them watch as the hunter—still unconcerned with Shaxx’s threat—in that carefully controlled way of his moves for the door. He sidesteps the titan and as he passes leaves a bitter statement with him. “Darkness leaves its marks. All we can do is own our failures and mistakes and move forward. Whatever you think of me now, Shaxx, that’s all I’m trying to do.”

Shaxx’s fists clench and unclench at his sides again as he deliberates stopping the hunter on his way out. He doesn’t, his stance just shy of relaxed.

The hunter starts to turn down the hall but pauses in the threshold, turning back and looking at Sloane once more. “Find your light. Don’t let anything take it from you.”

And then he’s gone.

No one in the room speaks for a heavy length, but then both Shaxx and Vera turn curious and concerned gazes onto her—she’s still looking at the place where the hunter had vanished with a stomach twisting in anxiety.

Hope is a hard thing to kill.

Find your light.

Don’t let go.

Her light felt so far away. It felt nonexistent. She couldn’t see it anymore, and the black static in her mind is still there like a cancer, just waiting to infect her further.

Her eyes flicker between the two people that mean everything to her, and the ill feeling in her stomach eases.

Maybe it feels like it’s gone, but she holds onto his words. She had a reason to not give up hope, a reason to keep her light alive, a reason to fight.

And she was going to fight like hell.

[solaciummeae]

Name: Trey Riado Age: 26 Specialty: Of the traditional gifts: Telepathy but quite a gifted Telekinetic as well; his skill with telepathy is only slightly stronger than his telekinetic ability. Abnormal abilities: Healing Living Organisms; in humans both mental and physical Heritage: Synergist Home: New York Organization{s} Associated With: International House of Homosuperiors, Paranormal Defense League, Free Paranormals Society Allegiance: Bellamy Riado[@deadbeatcentral], Genevieve Knight, Marshall Quade[@deadbeatcentral], West Coast Underground/East Coast Underground Special Talents: digging deeply into the thoughts of others, reading the most difficult to recall memories even those the individual may not be able to reach themselves– blocked, repressed, or otherwise; manipulation of emotions and thoughts, ability to cause verbal & visual hallucinations so realistic the person affected believes it’s actually happening, multiple powerful balled up energy blasts for concentrated hit on several targets at once, extreme tolerance/endurance with telekinetic heavy lifting, telekinetic fine motor skills; able to break apart and put back together complex objects with his mind, healing living organisms; plants, animals, and in people both mental and physical afflictions - this ability is a mutation in his genes caused in part by things his mother– a powerful witch– did while pregnant with him, furthermore as a witch himself– gifted in an alchemy that only homosuperiors are capable of

Trey hails from a wealthy and influential family of homosuperiors. His father, Xavier, is an active member of international organizations that operate well beyond the borders of the United States. It was on some such business trip to this country that he met and fell in love with Trey’s mother Laila. She gave his father a reason to stick around and poke into the interests of the, then only beginnings of what would become Ultra.

By the time Trey was a young child, Ultra had started to rise in force. There were horror stories about young breakouts being taken from the streets-- some of them utilized as agents while others had their powers stripped altogether. For this reason, Xavier-- knowing his son would grow up to be just like himself and his wife, moved their family back to London. He was sure that they would be safer there, what with all the connections he had-- especially those longer since established and grander than the organization based in New York.

As time went on and Trey got older, his abilities came into play around the age of thirteen-- young to be sure, but for good reason. Laila Smith herself was a witch, and a damn good one at that. She was well versed in the arts of alchemy that only Tomorrow People were capable of. When she’d been carrying Trey, she’d worked some powerful magic to ensure that her child would be safe and able to protect himself when the time came.

For this reason, after Trey broke out, it became quickly apparent that there was a mutation within his genes. He exhibited an ability to heal living organisms. It started with animals, but once known, he exercised the ability to heal people as well. This gift was kept quiet, should the outside world seek to use his abilities for their own ends.

Ever wanting to help others, to make a difference in their world-- just after his eighteenth birthday-- Trey traveled back to New York where he’d been born. The dangers of the city were ever present, but being well trained, he managed to stay concealed. He kept largely to himself until by chance coming across someone like himself on the street-- one Bellamy Riado who’d been using telekinesis to steal a pineapple.

He followed him into an alley where it became quickly apparent to the other man that they were of the same kind. More than that even-- as when their eyes met a large head rush seemed to come over both of them, forced to lean over until the sensation ended. When he finally straightened up and took in the other homosuperior again, it was as if he couldn’t keep him out of his mind. Even things that he tried so desperately to hide seemed painfully obvious in his thought processes. Likewise, he found himself undeniably linked to the other’s thoughts-- as if everything were there plain for him to see.

Frightened by the turn of events, he was desperate to teleport away from the spot, even as the man-- whose name he’d come to find was Bellamy-- invited him back to his apartment. He was quick to deny the request, teleporting out to his own apartment. Yet somehow, despite the distance-- he found Bellamy still inexplicably lodged in his mind. He could see everything he did, feel his every emotion.

Trey tried everything to keep his mind elsewhere, utilizing countless distractions to seemingly no end. Finally later that night, he decided to go see him. Not knowing where he lived he, focused his energy on him, about to reach out his thoughts to ask where he was. But in that moment, his body teleported out and landed directly in Bellamy’s living room. After talking for hours, the older man insisted he stay for the night-- they were adults, they could share the mattress on the floor. This seemed fair until upon waking the next morning, Trey found himself completely wrapped up in the other, holding his sleeping figure close to himself.

This was only the beginning for them. It soon became apparent that they couldn’t stay away from each other-- and moreover that Bellamy had no desire to. The other man wasn’t like the other Tomorrow People of the city that hid in the shadows for safety. In fact, it seemed that Bellamy was entirely out of the know about the dangers for their kind. He was very much a public figure, a musical artist who performed regularly in front of large crowds.

Again, he’d insisted that Trey accompany him on some such night. But as the younger watched from the crowd, and long after at a private after-party-- he began to realize just how little he fit into Bellamy’s world. While he had plenty of his own connections-- Bellamy’s lifestyle was far different than his. He felt out of place, inadequate even. And so he excused himself to go back to the artist’s apartment where he’d been staying more often than his own for reasons he couldn’t quite flesh out.

When Bellamy returned that night it was clear that he’d had far too much to drink. He immediately picked up on Trey’s plan to leave and put whatever distance he could between them. Regardless of whatever this connection they shared meant-- he had no place here. The older homosuperior broke down, begging him not to leave, telling him ardently of just how important to him that he was.

The bond that they shared did him no favors, able to feel every ounce of pain Bellamy felt, the sheer desperation for him not to go. As such, Trey couldn’t bring himself to leave. He stayed that night after all, worried over the consequences of the binge drinking that had happened that evening. That night he watched him sleep for a long time before his mind was set that he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to leave now. And so he didn’t.

Their profound connection served only to strengthen what they felt for each other, a deep-- seemingly timeless-- love forming between them. They were rarely apart for long, and always present within each other’s minds. And as fate would have it, two years later, they would be married.

However, as happy as they were together, the outside world still held its dangers. Bellamy didn’t seem as concerned about it as Trey did, but that quickly changed. A couple years later, Trey was approached numerous times by a seemingly mysterious ally-- a former top agent of Ultra who sought to keep their kind safe from the organization. 

John Young urged Trey to see reason-- that his life with Bellamy not only above ground but in the public eye was putting them both at risk. He pleaded with Trey to talk sense into his husband, that they’d be safer underground with him and those few that he’d recruited into hiding.

The couple was forced to seriously consider their options, deciding for a time to take up resident with the underground in the lair. Trey became close with John, sharing what he knew about the other organizations his family were a part of outside of the states. His every intent was to utilize those connections to help their people, despite still being so young himself.

Bellamy however, couldn’t just give up his career, having made a name for himself, even among the homosapiens. He often broke the rule of keeping ties to those outside of their small community and for that reason, the couple returned to the surface. Trey kept in touch often with John, helping him to recruit others and bring in breakouts. He was an avid member of their team, offering whatever resources he could.

When Jedikiah and the Founder began waging war on the now growing lair dwellers, Trey pooled his own connections in an effort to help the cause. However being that he was a mere 21 at the time, and with the due process of the other organizations, there wasn’t much he could do.

That is, until a year later when the Founder made an attempt to wipe out all human life. When word reached them, the were forced to consider action, but were too late to do much. Hugh Bathory’s defeat and death were met with much relief from all parties involved. The International House of Homosuperiors and Paranormal Defense League both stationed operations in the city immediately following his demise. 

They aided the ever growing population of paranormals flocking to the city after the beacon had been sent out. As the underground returned to the streets, setting up safe houses, and councils-- both great organizations did their part to make sure that the Tomorrow People here, had what they needed to make for a new life.

When Jedikiah rose up to start his super soldier program, they again, worked from the inside to put a stop to his agenda. Being that he held such strong ties to the community, Trey was given a place of leadership in both organizations. Reporting directly to the higher ups, one of which was his own father, Xavier.

Since then, he’s continued as one of the members of the high council among the community, now able to access all of the resources at the disposal of the organizations his family has long since been a part of.

@cranberrybutter

[ryouverua]

Trial 4 - The Confession  (3)

THIS IS.... NOT HOW I THOUGHT THINGS WOULD GO DOWN... AT ALL...

Investigation 1 / 2

Trial: 1 / 2

WHAT THEY HAVE A TEXT BOX AND EVERYTHING THIS IS LEGIT THEN?!?!

Wait, so she really did meet up with him before the virtual world then? I imagine it was before she gathered everyone, but after that flashback light that caused her to panic the way she did - so in the last few days? And it would have to be before he met Monokuma too... so not yesterday (as I’m imagining this taking place midmorning after they went to the VR world) but the day before that?

I can only imagine what threw him off as she was speaking. He has an excellent poker face though, so I’m not surprised she didn’t realize he was onto her.

It says a lot about Kokichi that he could stay calm in the fact of that, but also it’s... a bit sad that he didn’t think he could approach anyone for help...

... Then again, countering a murder plan with a murder plan is, uh, very Supreme Leader-ish! And one that doesn’t get your own hands dirty...

I guess you are really confessing everything, because I don’t know why you would feel the need to add that damning evidence on top of all the other stuff???

By making it more interesting, did he just mean getting everyone into the simulator full well knowing Miu’s plans, or literally telling Monokuma, ‘I am going to counter Miu’s murder plan with my own’?!?!

It sounds like Kokichi’s idea wasn’t to put the motive in the simulator, after all! Monokuma is straight-up saying it was his!

But does it matter at this point if we didn’t find it??? I swear, between the Necronomicon, the First Blood Perk and this, we seriously not using any of the motives!

So they argue a bit with Monokuma about him working together with a student but he handwaves it away with the whole, well, ~I wasn’t involved with the actual murder myself~ which, okay, fine though technically isn’t he working with the mastermind. It’s kinda distracting from the confession at hand anyway.

  It’s a bit scary how badly you want to confess though.

“Anything that lets me actually put you in the ground.”

That’s a lukewarm revenge -

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK

W H A T

j us t

happen....ed...........

shuichi also reacted with probably one of the cutest ‘eh’ sounds I have every heard out of his mouth but unfortunately this is all visual based, not sound based, so I cannot include it here, and also that is entirely beside the point

Holy shit, Kokichi. Holy - shit - DID YOU... STRAIGHT UP... JUST..... DROP GONTA’S NAME...

AN ENTIRELY APPROPRIATE REACTION TO FINDING OUT YOU MURDERED SOMEONE VIA ALTER EGO AND DON’T REMEMBER IT once again, a masterstroke by Kokichi, Mr. ‘I reference YGO Duel Monsters without even trying’

Yeah, I’m not surprised to see Tsumugi chiming in here. She has been Gonta’s biggest defender from trial to trial, even if her voice isn’t as loud as Kaito’s. 8(

And my god, if Kaito’s voice ain’t loud right now!

HIMIKO DON’T YOU FUCKING SAY IT

A;SLDKFJ KOKICHI DON’T THINK YOU INTERRUPTING HERE SAVES YOU FROM ME SERIOUSLY JUDGING YOUR LIFE CHOICES

“YOU CAN’T JUST SPLIT THE SCREEN LIKE THAT WITHOUT A SWORD DUEL THAT’S NOT HOW THE MECHANIC WORKS!”

“- ANYWAY I was totally confessing guys, and on behalf of Gonta as well as myself! I can’t believe you would just interrupt me when I’m being so charitable! Waaaah, you’re all so meeeean ~ !” insert crocodile tears sprite here

I am here to interrupt this incredibly serious and terrifying confession with accompanying illustration to ask - why ‘Busters’?! What kind of dumb name is that, honestly.

Between this and your ‘if everyone dies, the game will end!’ comment, you’re really scaring me right now, Kokichi - !

Gonta is not about this at all.

Man, I’ve been making the D: face over and over again during this trial - meanwhile, Gonta right now is the living embodiment of that text emoji right now.

Oh.... oh, of course. Kokichi doesn’t know about the avatar error either, does he? He’s been operating under the assumption that Gonta has been... lying to us this whole time............ That he’s been a perfect liar, without a single crack in his veneer, even to a keen liar-spotting master like Kokichi, and that he’s been just as good at tricking us as him - even better, possibly. 

Oh, no. Oh, no.

Gonta’s strongest, most stalwart supporter of the whole game is back in the game!

TRAUMATIC BUZZING NOISE FLASHBACKS

Between all the back and forth, including a bit of gloating at Shuichi on Kokichi’s part, he drops this:

And here, to counter all of the ‘Gonta is too ~dumb~ to do something like this’ comments, he already has a ready-made argument. He really has been set from the beginning, huh? Either that or his improv ability is topnot - oh wait this is Kokichi Ouma we’re talking about, of course it is. Anyway, while I think Kokichi set Gonta up to do this, I feel like I’m at least affording Gonta a bit more agency than his classmates. 8′/

d-don’t.... neglect the heart...... nngh

erika furudo is being channelled by kokichi ouma to wreak havoc on this killing game, this truly is the worst timeline

FUCK PLEASE DON’T BRING UP GENTLEMEN THIS IS SO AWFUL I’M GOING TO D I E

and everyone else seems to be in the same state I am, minus the whole ‘I’m 99% sure it was Gonta’ mindset I had going in, so Kokichi asks them the obvious question:

Aaaah, I thought so. Kaito has been pushed far enough that he won’t accept anything other than Kokichi being the culprit. :(

Kokichi’s about to drop a massive truth bomb in the trial and Kaito is not going to like it.

OH FOR FUCK’S SAKE KOKICHI NOW YOUR TROLL FACES ARE WARPING THE FABRIC OF REALITY ITSELF AROUND YOU PLEASE CONTROL YOUR TERRIFYING ULTIMATE POWER

I just really wanted to isolate this one shot from the debate especially because damn, just - the way they set it up for him and his sprite to dominate the whole screen by just - towering over everyone despite everyone being against him, despite everyone accusing him, is just some great work by the layout team!

Also the fact that they can contrast that with this image with all the flowers and sunshine around him, with that cute little smile on his face... man, I keep praising what they did with the trial debates for a reason!

And once again, it’s Kaito argument that Shuichi is forced to cut down...

All the pieces except for two - Gonta’s motive/reason he would work with Kokichi (because I thought it was maybe spur of the moment move on his part to protect Kokichi, but Kokichi is heavily implying it isn’t, and the fact that it was done via prepared item is.... a problem) and Gonta’s memory problems - are officially out in the open. Oooh geez - I had been wondering how they would do this case since to me, it didn’t seem technically difficult to figure out, but I guess the writers’ solution to that issue is to just gut-punch the players all the way to the end. 8′D

And now Kaito’s being countered by his other sidekick. Can we stop kicking this poor puppy while he’s down??? As in, the poor puppy who is probably dying a slow death from a mysterious illness right now??? Is this the game’s idea of karmic rebalancing for not outright deathflagging him again this chapter, or???

Because you’ve been baiting him this entire time.

So... was he going to let them fall for the lie of ‘Kokichi Ouma is the culprit who killed Miu’? That’s what I’m wondering right now. He’s very happily driving in the point that the one, singular truth can be incredibly painful, but this still seems very much to be a reaction to all the events of the trial leading up to this point!

Having Gonta beside Kaede’s stand, the other person who we thought, ‘No, it couldn’t be, it couldn’t possibly be....’ was probably planned from the very beginning for this trial, I imagine.

I-I MEAN IS THAT FAIR SINCE BUGS ARE DIRECTLY TIED TO HIS TALENT...

But of course, while the classmates are rallying around Gonta and Kaito...

Showing growth at the most unfortunate times, Shuichi Saihara uses his budding confidence to grow up up up and away from Kaito. 8′\

Look at him, inserting himself in between the two like this -

“SHUT UP KOKICHI YOU’RE RUINING OUR BROSHIP - W-WE CAN STILL BE BROS AFTER THIS, RIGHT KAITO???

Kaito directly after the trial but actually no please let the saimota stay strong you must overcome....

On the one hand I feel like Kokichi is being heavy-handed - on the other, I’m starting to think that he feels the need to over-explain everything to his classmates because they just won’t get it otherwise. 8′D

I don’t feel like this is 100% fair though - he did a really great job with finding the door in Chapter 1! He, uh, did completely lose his mojo though, so...

Well, the point is, Kaito did need to teach him how to trust in other people because Kaede broke it by lying to him! Shuichi has been a naturally suspicious worrywart this whole time!

HIS VOICE IS BREAKING I CAN’T FUCKING DO THIS

SHUICHI CAN’T EITHER

FUCK I THOUGHT DOING HIS FTES WOULD HELP ME THROUGH THIS BUT IT MADE EVERYTHING SO MUCH WORSE

Oh shit, this was a surprise bit of support that I wasn’t expecting! How shocked do you think Kokichi is right now that K1-b0 of all people is not completely disbelieving him, on a scale of 1-10??

If I make a comment about how computer-like this is would I get slammed for being robophobic or -

I mean Kaito’s technically not wrong? But he’s not completely right either... I, I really think Kokichi is trying to kill two birds with one stone here. 8′/ But to what end, is the real question... Disillusionment? Is that the ultimate goal?

MONOKUMA YOU’RE BRO-BLOCKING ME!!!

unholy screeching -

Kaito sounds so betrayed -

“Hold on Monokuma, I thought this was only supposed to happen in the event of an even split -”

“Shut the fuck up Shuichi Is2g I’ll crazy glue your hat back on!”

THIS IS AN INCREDIBLY UNLIKELY TEAM and also a popular OT3, I imagine with an incredibly complicated name. like. how do you combine saiouma and, uh... kiibouma I’m guessing - saikiibouma maybe???

also K1-b0 please don’t wave your Objection! finger in Gonta’s face like that, it is neither the time nor place and also incredibly rude and not helping -

I absolutely love (and by love I mean my heart is being wrenched In Twain) the way they have Shuichi facing in one direction, and Kaito fully, completely turned the other way.

Once again Shuichi is learning how to defend himself, and is finally willing to do it. I... just wish it would be under better circumstances...

Actually, out of pure luck, it lines up really well with Kaito’s last FTE and the option I chose where Shuichi bites back about his detective work. It’s funny how in the end, his natural reaction is still to search for the truth at all costs, and I like reading him as someone who is naturally curious as well as singularly focused that way, sometimes to the detriment of everything else - and come hell, high water or, regrettably, casualties. And he’ll certainly have those regrets, and fret on them endlessly as he loses himself in a spiralling circle of self-doubt, but would he be able to stop himself from following that path down to the bitter end? No... no, I don’t think so.

Should I include every cap of Gonta pleading with everyone that he isn’t the culprit? No, it’s redundant. Will I anyway because he’s tearing my heart to pieces? Yes. Yes I will.

asldkf;asdf the worst thing is he isn’t. He isn’t lying. He paradoxically is the killer and not lying about it, because not being the killer is his current truth AS HE KNOWS IT...

Y-You sound like you’re talking from personal experience, and outside of the last few trials, too! Which side of this ‘cornering’ were you on exactly...????

Oh!!! We haven’t seen this sprite in a long time!

Is it just me or is Kokichi acting extremely viciously right now? Like, his vitriol levels are off the charts. Honestly I couldn’t bring myself to interrupt this part with commentary because the way Kokichi is going off, just absolutely screaming at him, is a huge departure from the cool and collected Ouma we’ve had up to this point!

Did they... prepare arguments beforehand, maybe? And he’s losing it because Gonta isn’t playing along with the plan he said up? With that said, when Gonta turned on Kokichi in the Meet-n-Greet, Kokichi wasn’t anything like this. So what’s his deal???

Kokichi Ouma will not rest until he has flipped every single aspect of this trial and the trial format as it’s been up to this point on its head, and subsequently, used it to attack everyone around him. 

Holy shit, Kokichi has well and truly lost it. This - this has to be real. It’s far too raw for it not to be real.

Ugh, the way Kaito’s voice cracks when he jumps in here...

KAITO......................

I... feel like, despite flickerings of his ‘playful’ persona, this may be the longest he’s ever gone showing his genuine feelings - and man, they aren’t pretty. I mean, that’s assuming this anger is genuine... but I really, really feel like it is.

Just like another character I love who also uses lies and fantasy as weapons, I feel like going over this section again with new eyes will be extremely telling.

Still, that means he really, really wants to live. And the ‘we’ there is interesting. Who is the ‘we’? Is he speaking for a select few, including Shuichi? For the whole class? Someone not here, in a similar vein to Kirumi?

you know Kokichi for someone who wants to live, maybe screaming at someone whose good friend is an assassin is a bad idea

You know everyone fighting over him is eating Gonta from the inside out.

Ah, fuck, I’ve been waiting for the other shoe to drop and I think this is when it’s going to happen.

I’m like 99% sure Kokichi’s on Tsumugi’s hit list for next chapter. 8′D 

Oooh, speaking of growth - !

You know, I keep saying this and I don’t know if I’m alone in thinking this or not but Shuichi has been consistently weak in all things social and emotional, detection-wise and otherwise. But now, here, we finally have Shuichi picking up on the true source of Gonta’s confusion on his own, his language, and how it could be relevant to the case on his own without anyone else giving him any clues or hints!

The one who has consistently stood up for Gonta in every trial, Kaito, the one who wants to believe in everyone, and Gonta himself... aaaaah, no, no no..... 8′/

KAITO WHAT IS THAT NEW SPRITE

OH GOD NO THAT’S SUCH A SAD SPRITE SDLKFJ

OMFG HIMIKO ARE YOU SERIOUSLY WHY ALL OF THIS HAPPENED

ALSO... oh, that’s right. Gonta lifted up the manhole cover at the beginning of the game with his lefthand, didn’t he? SHIT....

His sprites and tones of voice are oscillating so wildly now and it’s really hard for me to keep up??? I’m getting whiplash asdlfkj

THAT. THAT IS THE ONE PART THAT I AM WAITING FOR. I thought it was in defense of Kokichi because that is the only way I can feasibly see him killing someone and still be, well, the Gonta Gokuhara who wants to protect everyone, but there is too much of this murder that seems premeditated!!!

So we’ve established this in previous games via Celes’ and Peko’s trials, but it’s worth going over again - especially since these guys have no knowledge of either of those games -

Yeah... we’re really going to need a motive from Kokichi. Could it be as simple as countering Miu’s plan? I suppose taking her out as an obvious threat makes sense, and he’s already established that he wants to live ... There’s also the question of if it can really be something like, ‘he also wanted to use this as a way to create a fun mystery.’ I really hope not. 8′\ I suppose something like, ‘I’m taking opportunity of the fact that I’m getting rid of a threat on my life to also drive home certain points to the rest of my classmates, and also as revenge for the events of the last few days’ would be more of an acceptable answer to me, given what I’ve seen of him so far. With that said, that... is not a great way to survive, considering the target being painted in broader strokes on your back each passing minute...

DON’T LOOK AT ME, SWEETCHEEKS!!

don’t neGLECT THE HEART, DAMN IT

Jeez, maybe he really does see the rest of them as chess pieces... and Shuichi as a knight that can move in abstract, highly unpredictable ways. 8/ Either that or he’s thinking he can keep tightlipped on the motive since Gonta no longer knows it?

Looks directly at Shuichi - winks - blows kiss - “Hey you know what would be a great first date idea? Setting up a tragic murder via patsy that will rock your worldview, potentially break you apart from one of your only friends in this wretched place and ultimately send everyone spiralling into despair.”

“W-Where did you learn how to pick up people?”

“Oh, some book I found in the library called ‘Enoshima’s Guide to Love for the Hopelessly Loveless’, why?”

“KAEDE.AGAIN, WHY DID YOU LEAVE ME IN THIS SPOT. I DIDN’T WANT TO BE THE PROTAGONIST. SOMEONE, PLEASE SEND HELP.”

Sadly, Kaito is all bluster at this point... oTL

I have a feeling this is going to end up looking a lot like my reasoning...

He goes down the list so clinically. It’s one thing for me, an outsider, to be able to do that (and just barely, because I was SAD about the conclusion I came to, damn it), but for someone in the game to be able to do it... yikes....

“There is no amount of incest roleplay fantasy dreams that’ll make up for the shitshow that is today.”

“He’s making me be the one to say it, isn’t he. Sonuvabitch.”

well fuck you too

no no no no no no no he’s CRYING HE’S AUDIBLY CRYING THIS IS 50 SHADES OF NOT OKAY

He’s straight-up challenging Shuichi to be the one to pull the trigger (absolutely pun intended).

IF.... IF ONLY IT WERE SO EASY, KAITO....

“If I just choose myself THIS HELL WILL BE OVER.”

“Bro I will fucking deck you.”

What if I just

turned

the game off

right now

just let this game board sit open, here, for all of eternity

that would be okay right