#ooof this one took some time

[shannankle]

On Narrative In Shadow Part 2

Well my attempt to just write some first impressions on Shadow part 2 has grown into 3-4 different ones I'm writing. It seemed appropriate to finish this first since I'm ruminating on the ending.

In this post I’m going to think about how narrative is coming up in part 2 as a way to discuss one possible reading of Dan and Trin’s endings. There will be a small detours into the topics of aromanticism and reception and marketing.

I have another post where I look at how narratives are tackled in part 1: here!

Oedipus and Dan

In my first meta on Shadow I discussed Hamlet in relation to the show. In there I talk about how Hamlet has a tradition of being interpreted and performed through the lens of the oedipal complex. I suggested that while Dan has metaphorically killed his father that it was unlikely they’d go with the shadow being his mom and fulfilling the sleeps with mother part of this equation. Instead I believed they might go a queerer route and embrace queer time and the death drive a la Lee Edelman (I think there is something there but I want to explore that in another post cause this post is long already).

But!

If the shadow created Dan for his father, that kind of technically makes it his parent. So Dan has metaphorically killed his dad and supernaturally gotten frisky with his supernatural parent. So I guess the Oedipus complex is more alive than I gave it credit. Apparently my clown glasses had me seeing 20-20. 

Beyond the Oedipus complex bits, Dan seems to line up a lot with Oedipus as a character. He is cursed/fated at birth. His mother hangs herself. Oedipus tries to outrun his fate by running away only to unwittingly fulfill the prophecy by doing so. He acts with hubris by trying to outrun the oracle’s prophecy and this causes his tragic end. Dan tries to escape first by running from the shadow and then by accepting the shadow despite others warnings. He acts with hubris towards Nai assuming he knows best and he unwittingly is drawn back to the shadow where he came from. 

What might these parallels tell us beyond foreshadowing? Let me return to that in a little bit!

Identification, Dis-identification, and the Destruction of Identity 

I mentioned in my Hamlet post how Dan seems to deny identification with Hamlet as well as with straight narratives. I find it interesting that, up until the last few episodes, Dan denies identification with romantic narratives throughout the show (not just straight ones). As I discussed with some folks over on discord, he’s very busy being in a supernatural mystery narrative, while Josh, Nai, and Cha-aim are trying to be in their straight and BL romance narratives respectively. This shifts when Dan and Josh fight and when Dan and Cha-aim chat in the shadow’s realm. Suddenly he fits their narratives: Josh's romantic rival and Cha-aim's main romantic lead. Cha-aim even asks him if he read the book and her notes until the end as if begging him to fit a story. The space their in also has elements of the theater in it as if he is being demanded keep acting in a play.

In terms of Hamlet, Dan seems to switch to aligning himself in part 2. Joe and Dan have a conversation about how to understand Hamlet as a character and his madness. After this, Dan doubles down on his resistance towards Anurak and starts trying to buck the system by rooting out the one-armed man. He believes that the shadow is protecting him at this point, and starts to adopt the Hamlet narrative more fittingly. During the play, he may have given Josh the Hamlet role for a bit, but Dan is entirely channeling Hamlet in that scene. Just like Hamlet he ups the drama and stages a play-within-a-play to confront his new father figure/enemy with their own crimes (or at least what Dan perceives to be Anurak's crimes). 

So what's going on here? Well, let's bring back Oedipus.

By the end of the show, Dan has been taken over by narrative. Like Oedipus chooses to blind himself, Dan chooses to die. He becomes Oedipus, Hamlet, a character in a straight love story. Yet despite being full of narrative, or perhaps because he is, Dan is quite absent from the last two episodes. From the moment he reaches the climax of his play-within-a-play, he loses consciousness and dies. From that moment he is largely absent from the story that is Shadow. 

What do we do when narratives don’t contain us? When we don’t see our identity reflected in them?

We might try to read resistantly. We might de-identify and find ourselves a new identity in alterity. But what happens when these narratives don’t leave room for alterity or resistance--when they still try to consume us and bend us past the breaking point? 

In my first post on narrative, I point out how differences such as queerness and disability compel narrative, and how they must be talked about in certain ways that contain them. (This element is made even more clear in part 2 when the woman who originally told the one-armed man story admits to embellishing.)  

I wrote the following in that post: 

“Such difference compels discourse while suppressing actual voices. It’s no wonder then that queerness gets attached to haunting–difference must always be stated and forcibly visible but never fully included or co-existing”

But I think the later half of Shadow takes the horror a step further. What happens when such narratives consume us? When we lose so much control over our narratives that we disappear completely?

We get Dan.

I think Dan’s fate in Shadow could be read through this lens. He tells Cha-aim that "being awake or asleep is equally agonizing." While this stands for trauma and depression it also marks how Dan is placed where he can neither fully enter the narratives of society nor forge his own path because both choices harm him. Such narrative violence can destroy us, can traumatize us, can leave us with no identity at all. 

This resonates deeply with a political landscape in which history and alternative narratives are erased. It’s in this context that the shadow creates Dan and to which he is forced to return. Dan’s dad literally creates him in order to maintain the perfect heterosexual marriage where toxic gender roles can remain intact. In the end, Dan is absorbed by narrative and trauma. He exits the story of Shadow because he is crowded out--it is all too much for him to exist at all.   

Side note: On aromanticism

Watching through Shadow, I often read Dan as expressing a relationship with romance that aligned him with aromanticism. His dis-identification with romance early on feels right at home. As does the sense of self-effacement that occurs as romantic narratives take over his story. As someone who is aro myself, this resonated deeply with me. Particularly the way in which amatonormativity can be so dominant a structure (narratively or otherwise) that we are rendered as inhuman, invisible, and nonexistent. It ties to the way that we are framed as lacking. Amatonormative discourses assume we are empty, needing to be filled with narrative, just as throughout Shadow these narratives overwhelm, subsume, and erase Dan. In the end he is nonexistent but not because of his dis-identification with romance.

Addendum 1: Trin

Trin's ending is heavily tied to Dan's so I wanted to add some thoughts on how we might read Trin's fate.

I wrote in yet another post about how Trin continually has his narrative taken from him in part 1. This starts in life and continues when he disappears. Before Dan is consumed by narrative in part 2, Trin suffers the same fate. There is a horror and perhaps violence in Trin taking Dan’s body. But perhaps also a flip side of very bitter hope (at least by comparison). Trin has managed to come back and continue his story. In Dan’s body, he can move in the world again without the same extent of stigma and harsh narratives that he faced after being outed. Dan might be a bit of an outcast, but he hasn’t yet had his stigmas publicized to the world in the same way.

Trin is writing when Joe comes to visit him/Dan. When the pen runs out of ink, Trin is handed his pen by Joe, just as he is handed back his narrative.

Now, this brighter reading is far from perfect. It already says a lot that Trin would have to become someone else, to hide his differences, in order to have narrative agency. And he will likely have to face what it means to navigate the world again while acting as someone else if he chooses to stay this way. Or perhaps he'll dare to do it all again, continue to push against the system loudly and see what happens now that the collective trauma of the past has been revealed.

On a darker level, however, we might read Trin's fate as another form of erasure. The last shot we get is Trin standing in front of the bathroom mirror as Dan. He uses the tap water symbolizing the shadow's domain to show his face as Trin in the mirror.

In Jacques Lacan's version of psychoanalysis, he focuses on what he calls the mirror stage. This is when a child goes from seeing their reflection as other to recognizing their self. This has more literal applications but Lacan also used it more metaphorically at times to explain identity and its fracture. From the moment we recognize the self in the mirror we are presented with a disconnect between our body which has no organized identity and an idealized self (ideal ego). He terms this self-alienation.

Some of the nuances don't translate perfectly, but we can see multiple times in the show that Trin is presented in mirrors, suggesting this connection is thematically relevant. In this final scene we might read Trin as literally self-alienated. His ideal ego in the mirror is his face but his body is Dan's. It's an ideal that he can no longer reach. Meanwhile Dan body remains a body, disconnected from an organized sense of self. We might wonder if Trin has escaped the shadow's clutches at all.

Addendum 2: On Expectations and Marketing

If we go with this reading of shadow, that it is about the power and violence of narrative, I think we also should consider what the show hopes to ask of us as viewers. I've seen a number of folks feel let down by the second half including because it felt disjointed and didn't seem to fit with the first half. And I have to wonder if this is an intentional move on the part of the show especially given the drop schedule. If that's the case, the shift might be seen as an attempt to subvert the narratives that we place on the show as viewers. Heck, even this analysis I'm writing now is me placing a narrative on the text.

It's certainly a thematically consistent move, though a risky one. Leaving things that way means that your message will inevitably drive away at least some part of your audience. Meanwhile I stumbled my way to this reading through hours writing and analyzing, and not everyone wants or has the time to do that. It means that folks who value other elements of a story won't resonate much with the back half of the show.

And this effect is compounded by the marketing of the show as a romance rather than a broader queer piece. Though I imagine that is up to marketing and Gaga more than the those working on the show itself. Perhaps we can see this as a real world example of narrative being placed on the show, subsuming what it might otherwise want to say. It certainly feeds into the narrative confusion at play to say the least.

It also raises questions about the slowly blurring line in Thailand between BL and queer media. There are advantages that come with this shift and certainly many folks in BL fandom already view many pieces as queer despite some BL elements, if not just fully both queer and BL. On the other hand we get trouble when romance is assumed to be the sole topic a queer show out of Thailand can cover and it is classified as a BL because of this. While I wouldn't call this queer baiting (it's definitely a queer show), I do think it does narrative harm in this context. Which is unfortunate given the shows nuanced take on the topic.

Conclusion: Shadow's Ending

Shadow doesn’t give us a happy ending, and what hope we read into it is very open to interpretation. But it does present a thought provoking ending--one that is deeply engaged with the power and violence that is caught up in and perpetuated by narratives. In that sense it speaks to the darker side of living under these systems in a way that resonates sharply--a narrative we strangely identify with shadows and all (see @brifrischu 's post for another great take on this darkness). I suspect there will be folks for whom this directness, this identification will be too much, and that's okay! But for others it will resonate as a narrative that is strangely both painful and welcoming.

[jeongharine]

syntax ERROR: the right formula

⚝ wonwoo x reader

⚝ comedy, smut

⚝ notes: you and wonwoo decide to take the thing between you on level two. but no one has to know about it. you would rather die than to have someone figure out about your sexual escapades with the local nerdy fuckboy. it is an ego thing. (part i)

(thanks to everyone who read and liked part one, i’ve never received such an amount of likes for something that i posted <3 i hope you will like this part as well, it is a bit longer but i had a little fun in writing some teasing ooof enjoy it, have a good early summer period and stay safe x)

“can you actually believe that, y/n? he ghosted me for i don’t know three weeks, and then he had the nerve to ask for a tit pic,” nabi sighs, taking a sip from her blue-ish drink.

“you know what? i’m so done with men. all of them. we really ar- are you even listening to me?” 

you are caught off guard by the clicking of her fingers in front of your eyes. truth is, you are only half present, the other half of you is scanning the whole floor, trying to see if there’s a certain someone amongst the agglomeration of bodies. 

“yeah, sure, sorry,” you apologize, leaning your side against the wall. “i was somewhere else for a second. you were saying that he ghosted you?”

“i’m never talking to him again. or any man.” “hm,” you hum, crossing your arms. you actaully don’t know who she is trying to convince at this point, because that must’ve been the fifth time you heard your friend giving you that speech (during that semester alone). 

“really, i don’t know why those guys haven’t been thrown out of the campus yet. they’re a hazard, including your brother from what i’ve heard. sorry. but yeah, they’re a threat to public health,”

you shrug, because honestly you don’t care that much about their business. and that is important to keep it low.

“could be worse, though, i could be one of the poor girls getting fucked by one of them in their spare time,” 

oh. 

you giggle, a little nervous. “yeah, yeah,” you agree, looking back at the mass of students. “yeah, that’d be totally awful.” 

“i couldn’t even count on my fingers the amount of girls that had one night stands with one of them, and somehow proceeded in becoming completely whipped and infatuated, only to be told that they don’t ‘fuck the same person twice’. like… what the fuck is that? who do they think they are? sorry that your brother is involved in this discourse, but he’s kind of a prick,”  

you laugh, noticing the tinge of red that covers her cheeks. “you sound really drunk,” 

“i’m not bullshitting you. they’re pricks and that’s on period,” 

she raises her cup in a silent cheer, and took another sip. “i know you’re not involved in the fuckboy thing that plagues this campus and, honestly, you’re better off that way. but trust me when i say that they aren’t worth the headache,” 

with an inattentive nod, you take another peek at the strangers filling the space near you. “i believe you, don’t worry. i know my thing or two,” 

the worst part? you do. 

and the even worse bit? there are two things wrong with what she has just told you. 

number one: yes, they could be kind of jerks sometimes. but they aren’t completely soulless, at least some of them. they are fun to be around, actually, when picked alone and not in group, or when they are not trying to impress someone into sleeping with them.

number two: they fuck the same person twice, if feeling like it. at least wonwoo. and you know that because you’ve been fucking him on and off for the past five months or so. 

when you first met him, you weren’t exactly after a “secret friends with benefits” relationship. you just needed a math tutor. but long story short, you didn’t expect to fall victim to his charms, melting under his tender kisses, moaning his name as he rolled his hips against you, edging your orgasm for longer than you can hold it. and you surely didn’t expect to like it as much as you do. 

truth is: jeon wonwoo is everything, but he isn’t dumb. he knows that he is attractive and smart as hell - he knows that with his voice so silky and deep just saying the right words is enough to have you in bed with him, and he knows how to use the two things very well. 

apart from also corrupting you in games hours.

also, you are human, alright? and there is something extremely tempting about sleeping with your brother best friend, especially when he keeps coming back to you. it’s only nature to want to feel special every once in a while. 

again: it is an ego thing. 

plus no one ever caught you. not nabi or any of your other friends. as far as you are aware, wonwoo’s group doesn’t know a thing either, which makes you appreciate him even more because you don’t know how hoshi could take this.  

so yeah, he isn’t a total douchebag. he has the most basic sense of loyalty. 

x

with a sigh, you push your body away from the wall, fumbling with your purse. you are praying that- oh there he fucking is. 

the moment that you see wonwoo, sitting on the couch across from you, you forget how to breathe for a moment. 

he looks better than you had anticipated: dressed in all black, with his thighs spread across the seat, ready to be fucked right then and there. his dark long hair is parted in the middle, with a few stubborn strands falling over his angelic features, as his gaze navigates around the room, staring at nothing in particular.

next to him, there is another one of his friends, seokmin, talking about something animatedly but wonwoo is paying no attention. 

his expression is one of irritation, you notice, with his thick eyebrows furrowed, jaw clenching. but when his gaze falls on you, however, wonwoo’s perceived annoyance instantly dissipates. 

you watch as his eyes meet your own, then he trails down your body with desire, stopping around the level of your thighs for a bit longer than you have predicted. 

you know that stare awfully well: it is the same one that he gives you when he sees you around campus, or in the pc-bang when you’re winning or when you actually understand the concepts that he’s teaching you. the silent provocation that tells you, and only you, that he really wants to have some alone time right now. 

a tricky smirk sprouts at the corner of his lips, and he leans back against the couch. you follow his movements as he reaches towards his pocket and extracts his phone, staring at you as he does so. he unlocks it, taking a final glance at your expectant features before he starts to type something.

[00:23] wonu: so glad to see that you came  

[00:23] wonu: will you do me a favour and meet me in the bathroom upstairs? second door to the right ;) 

and what can you do when he’s asking it like this? you take the stairs and you wonder, as you open your way through the crowd of sweaty bodies and spilling drinks, if you aren’t trying too hard to rationalize and catastrophize something that is actually very simple. 

a story with a beginning, a middle part, and a satisfying ending: you two want to fuck each other, you do, then you move right forward. no hidden feelings, no strings attached. that’s it. couldn’t get any better than that. 

but maybe, it isn’t everything about that, and you know it. it is also about overhearing the other girls talking as you make your way upstairs, complaining about how ridiculously hot and pretty he is. it is about having that steamy, trembling secret between the two of you. it is about knowing that yeah, wonwoo is crazy hot and smart and funny and you can have that whenever you want.

x

just like the calm before the storm, there is a moment of quietness and stillness between the instant of when you lock the door, and the one when you see him. 

as you turn around, dwelling in his proximity, you think about a million things at the same time: about teasing him for his location choice, or maybe about how he must’ve been going through a drought, if he has to count on his covert booty call to get laid at a party. 

before you can say anything, wonwoo’s lips are on yours, attacking your mouth in a fervorous kiss. you whimper in surprise as he pushes you against the closed bathroom door, his hands circling your waist as he squeezes your body against his. your purse falls on the ground with a muffled sound, but you barely even notice it. 

it is something else, really. tonight, he’s kissing you as if he physically can’t contain himself long enough to do anything else - as if all that he can think of doing is to feel the heavenly contact of your mouth against his, while your fingers pull strands of his hair.

as he invites his tongue inside your mouth, wonwoo groanes and lowers his hands, squeezing your ass like he is about to lose every last ounce of sanity he has left in him. you sigh as he moves his focus onto your neck, placing open-mouthed kisses. 

“someone’s excited,” you comment, slightly breathless. the only response you get is another groan, and the rolling of his hips against your inner thigh where you can feel his dick, already semi-hard, pressing. 

“couldn’t even bother to take me somewhere else,” 

“i just needed to have you now. have you seen how hot you are?” his voice comes out muffled against your skin, the reverberations of his timbre propagating directly towards your core. 

“i see you’re starting to get more adventurous with this,” you bite down on your lower lip and he sucks your flesh, groping your ass once again. “parties and nights out used to be so off limits to you.” 

wonwoo chuckles against your neck, moving back towards your mouth. he starts making out with you again, his breath hot and heavy against your face, and you start to think how you could very well pass out seen the level of craving building inside of you. 

“i changed my mind.” he speaks as he leans back. 

you smirk at his attitude. “we’ll end up getting caught,” 

“aw, baby,” he pouts, looking at you with artificial pity. “are you afraid your brother is going to find out?”

okay, he can be kind of a prick sometimes. 

“so i can leave, then?” you raise one eyebrow, fingers playing with the hair at the back of his neck. 

“you can, the door is right behind you. you know i’m not one to insist,” wonwoo tells you, quickly losing interest in this part of the conversation. “but something tells me you won’t.” 

you don’t even try to respond, because there is nothing to be said: both of you know what you are doing there, and the idea of walking out is just too ridiculous to consider. 

with a suspire, you watch as wonwoo moves his lips down your chest, stopping at the fabric of your blouse. 

“what if someone hears us?” you suddenly remember, heartbeat quickening at the thought. 

“what is it?” he asks as his fingers work on your buttons, exposing more of your chest. the slow pace of his is going to kill you one of these days. 

“you’re worried that people are going to find out about this? about us? when you’re always begging to be fucked in the room next to your brother’s one or when there’s someone at my dorm?” 

you open your mouth to respond but his chuckle, so deep and melodious, catches you off guard. 

“how scandalous, right? you are not the pure little thing you make yourself to be,” wonwoo continues, finally opening your blouse and fully exposing your bra to him. he hums with delight. “red lace? you really want to tease me,” 

you swallow dry as he takes the blouse off your shoulders and gently places it beside the sink, above a towel. he can be so thoughtful and gentle. 

“wonu, i-“ “you’re such a little brat sometimes, you know that?” he interrupts, eyes following his own movements as his hands circle your body, moving to unclasp your bra. and of course he gets it right on the first try. 

“you came all the way up here just to get fucked, and now you’re worried that people are going to know about it,” you stare him down, a smirk already creeping up in the corner of your lips. 

“how does that make me a brat?” 

he smiles. “don’t try to to play the naive card on me,” another agile movement of his fingers and your bra joins your blouse besides the sink. 

wonwoo sighs deeply at your exposed breasts, trying to imprint that sight into the back of his mind. “pretending as if you don’t know exactly what you’re doing. you can drop the act now, y/n,” “i don’t-“ his mouth attacking you is all that you needed to shut up and let him do what he wants really.

overwhelmed by the sensation, you let out a gasp as his hand squeezes you, playing with you as he moans against your skin. 

“i love it so much,” he hums, moaning at the marvelous sensation of your warm skin against his tongue. you were almost forgetting how much wonwoo aches to play with your tits - not that you are complaining. 

“and i love that it’s all for me,” he breathes out before placing kisses again.

you whimper at the contact, arching your back in a failed attempt to get closer to him. as much as you know he is most likely to just say whatever he thinks would turn you on, wonwoo’s words expand inside your chest, building a heat that seems to suffocate you. even if you know it is bullshit, maybe not all of it, you like to be called his. ego strokes and all of that. 

“wonu…” there is only a thin wooden door separating you two from the outside world, and at the moment you can’t care less if they hear you calling out his name. the guy really does wonders to your anxiety. 

but he also likes to tease you. 

he moves away from your breasts and you almost, almost, cry out in frustration. but wonwoo starts to trace kisses back to your neck, then to your jawline. and you feel like you’re going crazy with all that back and forth.

“i’m not gonna lie, i understand where you’re coming from,” he says. “i like to keep this as a secret too. it’s so hot.” 

you almost forget how to inhale when he aligns his face with yours, placing a peck on your swollen lips. “yeah?” you ask, sounding as if you are in a daydream. 

“yeah,” he agrees, breathless. 

even if wonwoo tries his best to look as if he’s under total control, you know that he can’t keep that front for too long. he is clearly turned on, and the hardness pressing against your thigh is all of the proof that you need. he

even if wonwoo tries his best to look as if he’s under total control, you know that he can’t keep that front for too long. he is clearly turned on, and the hardness pressing against your thigh is all of the proof that you need. he’s close to get too worked up.

“it’s so great to know that i have one of the sexiest nerdy girls on campus just for myself…” his hand trails up your thighs, adventuring in the lands beneath your skirt. “and no one knows.”

you bite your lower lip, anticipating the contact of his hand against your core. “what’s so tempting about it?” you ask. 

he smiles. “ah… many things,”

your stare doesn’t vacillate. “i’d like an example,” 

instead of answering you straight away, wonwoo decides to take his sweet time. he leans his head to the side and kisses you feverishly, growing satisfied with the the small whimpers and breaths that echoes in between your mouths. his hands are all over you: on your ass, your waist, down your thighs and up your hips, where his eyes can not see. you only have your skirt and your panties on, and it is so frustrating to still feel him fully dressed against you. 

at last, he pulls away, placing his forehead against yours. as he speaks, you feel the tingle of his hands as they move towards the hem of your panties. 

“i like seeing you walk around campus, knowing that you’re sore from the night before,” he speaks slowly, his voice in a low vibration against your mouth. “and i know you don’t tell any of your friends about it. about how i fucked you so good that you almost cried,” 

you hum, closing your eyes. “what else?”

much to your dismay, his hands leave your underwear again, coming out to pull you closer. “when you send me those audios late at night,” he’s breathing out hard then, drowning in those lewd memories. “crying out my name… ” he stops and takes a big breath. “how am i supposed to say no to that? so there i go, out the door, telling your brother that i’m going to the library to study, instead of saying that i’m going to see his crazy hot sister and that i’m going to fuck her…” he hesitates. “and i just get this… adrenaline rush because he and my other friends don’t know it’s you.” 

“and how do you know that i like any of it?” you tease. 

wonwoo snickers at your question. both of you know that it is plastered all over your face, but he can keep up with that little teasing if you want to. 

“two reasons,” he says. “first: you do the same to me, or don’t you?” 

“i don’t recall,” you respond, forging innocence. okay, maybe you do like to play the naive part. 

“oh no? what a terrible memory you have, i see why you do badly in exams when you don’t study with me. now, let me remind you,” he places a strand of your hair behind your ear, his words hitting your skin in heated, libidinous waves. wonwoo is so close that you can count his eyelashes if you want to, his torso squeezed so tight against yours that you wonder how you even manage to breathe in this position. 

“it was just last week, babe. you called me to your flat after your roommate had left,” one of his hands goes back to play with the hem of your underwear, fingertips feeling like sparks against your skin. 

“you got so horny with just the thought of having me, isn’t that right?” much to your surprise, your voice comes out a lot more steady than you have expected. “don’t flatter yourself, you don’t know that.”

wonwoo laughs, placing his warm, swollen lips against the skin of your neck. “i don’t,” he agrees, digits pressing against your clothed area. 

you know he feels how wet your panties have become, so there’s no reason to keep that up. regardless, you kind of like it. 

“but i do remember how much you wanted me that night. how many times did i fuck you that night? and you just had to keep quiet, because your neighbours could have been catching something. that was so cute,” 

you sigh, your insides in knots over the tension you are sustaining. you hate him sometimes. hate how good he is. “i wasn’t counting.” 

“i know,” he swiftly pulls the fabric of your underwear to the side. 

“and this right here, this is the second reason. look at this,” his digits move, teasing you and you have to suppress a moan. “you’re always ready. i love that. you’re so good to me.” 

god, you are so close to lose it.

“so quiet all of a sudden,” his nose delicately trails up your neck, his mouth meeting the angle of your jaw in open kisses. in an attempt to ground yourself, your hands fly to his shoulders, nails digging through his t-shirt. you can still feel wonwoo’s fingers playing. you hate him. or not. you don’t know. 

“i know i leave you speechless, sometimes, but i wan to hear you too,” 

strong and steady, his other hand meets the curvature of your waist, pressing your body against his.

“nothing? y/n, you’re especially irresistible tonight,” his eyes are somewhat dazed, unfocused and hooded. he appears as if he’s two seconds away from fucking you raw against the wall, and you seriously wouldn’t mind at this point. 

“you know why i called you here?” “because you want to fuck me,” you respond without missing a beat. 

“i do, of course,” he places his forehead against yours, and you whimper. 

“and the best part is that no one will even know it,” he continues. against your best judgement, your knees are getting weaker by the minute, the knot in your abdomen about to untie.

“just you and i. just the two of us will know how much you begged.” 

“wonu,” you call out, hands tangling themselves in the roots of his silky hair. you whisper out his name again, your voice coming out in such a promiscuous tone. 

god, wonwoo loves hearing the effect he has on you. 

x

maybe jeon wonwoo does also have a golden dick. 

above you, he smirks at the sensation of your mouth around his thumb, his other hand coming to place small caresses on your hair. after he removes his thumb from your mouth, you get back to your feet. it swiftly crosses your mind that your legs might give out eventually but, thankfully, they seem a bit more firm than what you have anticipated. 

“better?” you ask. 

“perfect.” wonwoo kisses you, sighing against your mouth. he pulls away gradually, his body still moving a bit slow.

“you always are.” 

“aw, how nice of you,” you smile at his compliment, walking towards your pile of clothes. “always with the compliments.” 

he hums in agreement, watching your naked body - your fingers holding that red bra he adores so much. “do we have any lesson programmed this week?” 

an incredulous laugh ruptures your lips as you clasp your bra behind your back. 

“we just had sex, and you’re already thinking about studying time?” 

he shruggs. “i like to have a schedule,” 

“i don’t actually remember, but we can game at mine wednesday,” your skirt moves up your legs, all the way up to your waistline. from the corner of your eyes, you can see wonwoo fumbling with his own jeans, which he now curses for being inside out. 

“can you pass me some toilet paper?” you ask him, eager to clean the mess between your legs. there’s no way you are going to put your panties back on, even if the thought of going commando isn’t exactly the most welcoming either.��

wonwoo is sitting on the toilet lid, putting his jeans back, and simply nods in agreement before doing so. “i’d like to know, though,” he insists.

you smile, taking a cheeky glance at him. “oh, so you are needy. since when you’re so needy?” 

he groans. “i’m not needy, shut up.” the sound of his zipper closing echoes inside the cubicle. 

“well, you can have this as a memory, if you’d like.” 

you throw your red panties at him, watching as his face grows interested at the piece of cloth in his hands. wonwoo sighs, tugging his t-shirt back inside his pants. 

“you’re killing me,” he complains. “good.” you smile, turning back at him. “how do i look? presentable?” 

he examins you for an instant, taking in the details of your form. “it doesn’t look like you just got fucked, if that’s what you’re asking,” 

“great!” you swirl around, “have a nice night, wonu. and don’t get too excited with the panties,” 

wonwoo gets up and walks closer to you, your underwear safely guarded in his hands. you are positive he’s going to have fun with it later. “you’re going home already?” he asks. 

“yeah, you did a good job at making me tired,” the clicking of the lock is a pleasant reminder that no one tried to open the door during your alone time.

wonwoo chuckles, leaning closer to you and he places a kiss on your forehead. 

“good night, then. thanks for the panties,” you laugh. “you’re welcome.” 

x

the building is glowing in the most diverse colours from the outside, and the sound of the music is like a distant pulse.

you watch, heart clenching inside of your chest, as wonwoo steps out of the front door with hoshi and seokmin - his head hanging low and a smile at the corner of his lips. 

there is a volume in his front pocket, where you are sure he has tugged in your panties.

“i think that we should go home and sleep. but let’s keep this conversation on hold,” wonwoo cuts off the conversation. seokim, however, isn’t satisfied. 

“you know that i’ll find out eventually,” he says, trying not to trip while walking. 

“i always do. and hoshi knows it well.” 

hoshi laughs, meeting wonwoo’s eyes. on the other side of the street, you and nabi take the opposite direction, having wonwoo to turn his head quickly at you. 

“wonu-yah, i think you should give those lacy panties hanging off your pocket back to my sister tomorrow,”

“what-” “oh fuck!” a tomato red face wonwoo grabs them, while seokim trips and nearly cries out loud in the middle of the street.

[buckyalpine]

Here’s the ask babe!

Like okay, I get it it’s pretty obvious that Bucky absolutely adores her. But what if those intrusive thoughts and insecurities get the best of her? After a couple of fucks here and there, she still thinks Bucky isn’t into her until one party. Bucky asks if she would like to be his date Bc he wants to show everyone his girl. And then she gets all flustered and confused like, wdym? You want me? As in me? You want to show me off?? Not to mention as YOUR girl?? Did we talk abt this? Are you kidding? Then blah blah blah feelings ensue then the party comes and Bucky couldn’t keep his hands off of her, and the plot twist of it all, she was also hot and bothered by bucky’s look. So as a thank you, she pulls Bucky to leave the party early and to bucky’s surprise? There’s a major freak inside her. Literally F R EEEE A K. FREAK LIKE ME YOU WANT A GOOD GIRL THAT DOES BAD THINGS KINDA GIRL JUST HER INITIATING ALL THE FILTHY SEX

Then some good love making lovin lovin 😭💗

18+

YEESS I remember when we talked about this and it made me feral. Here is my feral ass finally getting to write it I love this. SO MUCH. 

Horny horny Bucky is out of his cage with some smutty smut and fluffy fluffff 

-

It all started with you and Bucky being the last two awake after a team game night. At least it started off as a game night until almost everyone got hammered and trudged to their rooms one by one. Except you and Bucky. You continued to nurse a beer while Bucky sipped on the rest of the mead Thor had poured for him. He couldn’t help but glance over to you every so often, his eyes flicking to your bare legs, hardly covered by your tiny night shorts. The pulse in his veins started to travel down south and before he could stop himself, his mouth was already moving. 

“Y’know it’s still game night doll” He smirked, biting his lip while you peeked up at him through your lashes. The fact that you were so shy made him want you even more. Not just to fuck, he genuinely wanted you to be his but that would have to be an actual conversation for when he was sober. 

“Uh huh, what’s on your mind Barnes” You cocked your head, letting the alcohol give you a mini boost of confidence you’d never normally have around the super solider. His mischievous blue eyes twinkled, shifting closer to you till his thighs brushed against yours. 

“We could play another game?” He sounded hopeful and it made you curious because there were few games Bucky actually enjoyed playing. 

“And what game is that?”

“We could play Twister?” 

You could tell by the way he was chewing on his lip, there was more to this than he was letting on. “You really want to just play twister? Just the two of us?” You giggled while he shook his head, inching even closer to you. 

“We could make it a little interesting?”

“How so” 

“I mean we could fold the mat a little...so it’s a little more challenging...”

“And...?”

“Strip every time you slip or fall” He stated, his cock twitching in his sweats. This was 100% the alcohol controlling the squirrel in his brain but there was no going back now. His eyes flicked to the way you squeezed your thighs together, hesitating for a moment before quickly downing the rest of your beer. 

“Fine”

Bucky grinned, getting up to grab the box, spreading out the sheet and folding it slightly so it was a smaller area to play around. He grabbed the spinner, placing on the middle of the mat since there was no one else but you two. 

“Ladies first” He smirked while you shook your head, spinning the arrow, landing on left foot red. You both went back and forth with relative ease until it was your turn to move your hand and you twisted your body awkwardly. 

“Ooof”  Your ass hit the ground with a soft thumb while Bucky snorted, standing up and lifting you with him, his blue eyes still sparkling. 

“So what’s it gonna be” He wigged his eyebrows while you felt your body heat up, throwing him a smirk when you took off your earrings.

“Really? Your earrings?” He sassed while you shrugged, spinning the arrow for a new game. You had managed to last a little longer than the last game but tripped over Bucky’s foot which you swore wasn’t that close to you earlier. 

“You cheated” You huffed, contemplating on what to take off next. There really wasn’t much, you were only in your sleep shorts, an over sized t-shirt and your underwear. 

“Why would I do that doll” Bucky smiled innocently while you narrowed your eyes, smiling triumphantly, taking off a hair tie on your wrist. 

“There” You stuck your tongue out at him while he rolled his eyes, starting a new game. This time Bucky was the one who had fell down. He proudly took off one sock while you stared at him; he insisted it only had to be 1 article of clothing so his 1 sock was perfectly acceptable. Then he fell again. 

“It’s not fair, you’re wearing more clothes than me” You huffed, rolling your eyes as Bucky snorted, smugly taking off another sock.

“If you want to see me naked, just say it doll” He winked while you felt your face heat up, shaking your head.

“Shut up and spin” 

You both continued to spin, both your hearts racing wondering who would have to actually take something off first. You started to feel a little confident until you had to reach across the mat again. 

And you slipped. 

“So, what’s it gonna be now” Bucky gazed down at you, his voice had dropped several octaves.

You bit your lip, grabbing the hem of your shirt and tossing it over your head; you could have sworn you heard him growl as his eyes trailed up and down your body, blinking at the way your nipples faintly poked through your lounge bra. 

New game. He fell. 

His eyes were locked with yours as he threw his t-shirt off, rolling his shoulders back, his metal arm almost glowing under the soft low light of the living room. 

New game. He fell again, smirking as he took his sweats off, your eyes growing wide at the thick bulge that was straining against the fabric. 

New game. You fell. 

You hesitate for moment, keeping your eyes trained on your feel like you wiggled your sleep shorts off.  You stood in your bra and panties while he stood in his briefs. He hummed, not even bothering to hide the way his erection was practically throbbing. 

“Your turn princess, ready for another round?” He whispered, his heart rate picking up, eyes dark as you spun the arrow, your ass brushing right against his cock. He bit back a moan, lightly rolling his hips for more friction to tease you before moving his body around you as you called right hand green. His arm knocked against yours, slipping while he took you down with him. 

Your body landed on top of his, your eyes growing wide when he wrapped his arms around you and rolled your over so you were pinned under him. 

“You fell Barnes, I win” You sassed, squeaking when he rubbed his boner against your panties, smirking at the way you instinctively went to squeeze your thighs together, his waist in the way.

“You’re right baby, guess I gotta take this off, huh?” He straddled you, pulling down his boxers just enough to free his cock, the tip nearly brushing against your lips. You let out a soft moan, your eyes blown with lust, your panties soaked at the sight before you while he cocked his head, stroking his cock in front of your face. “Finish the game in my room?”

That night started it. It was fun. Nothing crazy, nothing complicated, the both of you occasionally fooling around. Sometimes Bucky would come by and hang out in your room, lingering around for longer than necessary until you both ended up on your bed making out. To taking your clothes off. To having your legs spread for him while he railed you with his cock. 

Every single time Bucky came over, he wanted to tell you he liked you, but he hoped you just already knew, his tongue getting tied in knots when he tried to bring up how he felt around you. What he didn’t know was you were equally head over heels crazy for him but you didn’t think he’d ever see you that way. 

You bit your tongue every time you wanted to tell him how much you adored him, how much you wanted him to be yours. Your hands itched when you wanted to cuddle him closer, desperately wanting to shove your face into his chest whenever you saw him. You wanted to curl up on him like a kitten and nap at any time of the day but you were limited to the few moments you had together after sex. 

*****

“Soo...”

“Soo?” You peeked up at Bucky through your lashes, comfortable snuggled in his arms after he had taken you apart with his mouth, He traced some imaginary shapes onto your spine making you shiver. 

“Stark’s having that party and I was hoping...” His cheeks blushed, biting his lip nervously before continuing, “Would you want to be my date doll?” 

You looked at him with wide eyes, pure disbelief etched across your face. You sat up slightly, blinking at him, “You want me to be your date? Are-are you sure? Me?”

“What do you mean sweets? Of course I do and of course you” Bucky pulled you closer to him, chuckling at your shocked expression. “Babygirl, I wanna show you off to everyone. Show everyone this beautiful doll that’s all mine that I adore so much. You’re my girl, baby” 

His girl.

Your cheeks  heated up, feeling giddy on the inside as he cupped your cheeks brining you close so he could peck a kiss to your lips. 

“I’d-I’d really love to, I just-I didn’t think you liked me like that” you whispered, hiding your face in the crook of his neck, toying with the chain of his dog tags while he smiled, tilting your chin to look at him. 

“Why wouldn’t I like you angel, you’re the best thing to even happy to me” He rolled over on top of you, peppering you with a hundred kisses while you giggled, spending the rest of the day thinking about what you were going to wear. 

Party Night 

Bucky scanned the crowd, trying to spot you, his eyes growing wide when he realized it was you sitting by the bar. 

The moment his eyes landed on you, he knew he was fucked. You had no right to look like that. You had always favored your comfy clothes even during party nights, typically going to pants and a cute top over wearing a dress. Until tonight. 

Bucky swallowed thickly, approaching the barstool you were seated at, his eyes trailing from your pretty heels, the delicate strap wrapping around your ankles, up to the soft glow of your legs, a light shimmer covering your body. The thigh high split of your dress made his cock jump, thinking about how easy it could be for him to slip his hands in between-

Fuck. 

The silky material of your dress wrapped perfectly around your body as he couldn’t tell if he wanted to fuck you with it on or torn off. He had to adjust himself for a moment, groaning at the tightness in his pants before making his way over to you.

“Hey pretty girl” Bucky murmured in your ear, kissing your beck from behind, his voice low as he gently moved to hold your waist, your back flush against his chest. “You look gorgeous angel” 

You melted into his touch, turning around to face him, biting your lip when he groaned, gripping you tighter. 

“I know I said I wanted to show you off doll but this-God damn, thank god I know how to fight” He breathed out a laugh, he had already caught a number of other party goers glancing over at you and it made him grin wider. Prettiest doll in the room and you were all his. 

“You should look at yourself Sergeant” Your voice got caught in your throat, the scent of his cologne already making you woozy. He was the most devilishly handsome man you’d ever laid eyes on but tonight? Tonight you were ready to-

“Lets go sit baby” He inturrupted your train of thought, helping you slip off the seat, the both of you making your way over to the lounge where everyone else sat together. You felt your cheeks warm up at the whistles that were directed towards you both. 

“So, you and y/n, huh?” Tony wiggled his eyebrows with a knowing smile while the rest of the team whooped; Bucky sat down at the end of one of the couches, pulling you to comfortably sit on his lap. 

“Mhm, shes my girl” Bucky gazed at you proudly, playing with a loose strand of your hair, finding himself unable to keep his hands off you. 

“Your girl, huh Barnes? You guys look good” Sam threw you a wink, grinning when he saw a blush covering Bucky’s cheeks. “Alright lover boy, I see you, blushin’ like a school boy” 

Bucky didn’t even bother arguing back, letting his hand rest on your thigh, giving in a gentle squeeze. You giggled, hoping he didn’t notice you felt like you were on fire, contemplating on sitting on your hands before you did something stupid. 

What Bucky didn’t know was you were 10 times more riled up than him the second you saw him. He was in all black, a look that left you swooning and soaked between your thighs. He left the scruff on his cheeks and it drove you wild. The silver chain of his dog tags peaked around the collar of his shirt. He noticed you squirming on his lap everyone else lost in conversation while you were struggling to keep your panties from soaking through your dress. 

“You okay doll? 

You nodded, shifting and pressing your face into his neck, though that only made you feel more feral, squeezing your thighs together. 

“What is it babydoll?”

“Bucky?” You whined into his neck, your hands coming down to grip at his shirt, “Let’s go baby” The desperation in your voice caught him off guard, blinking twice before responding. 

“How come doll?” He smiled softly, 

“Because...” You bit your lip while he urged you to continue. You had managed to contain yourself thus far but it was getting harder and harder and with the way he was looking tonight...fuck it. “Fuck, I’ll suck your cock right here Sergeant, you look so fucking good, I’ve already soaked my panties, you-you look so good, I’d ride you right now if I could”

Bucky’s eyes grew wide, you didn’t have to tell him twice. He wordlessly stood up, quickly waving everyone off before he grabbed your wrist, headed straight for the elevators and down the hall towards his room. 

Before he could say or do anything, you pulling your hand from his, moving to cup his cheeks, smashing your lips onto his. Bucky moaned into your mouth, still in shock from what you had said earlier, the both of you making out all the way until the back of his legs hit the bed. 

He couldn’t get any words how as you crawled on top of him, straddling his waist, the strap of your dress falling of your shoulder while you smirked down at him playfully. 

“Let me take are of you tonight solider” You trailed a finger down to his belt, making quick work of it as soon as he nodded, “Sit up” He let you pull him up as you shrugged his blazer off his shoulders, and pulled his shirt off, humming contently before you pushed him back on the bed. He lifted his hips up, helping you pull his pants and brief's off in one go, his cheeks flushed from the way you were biting your lip, he could practically smell how aroused you were. 

Who were you and what did you do to his sweet babygirl.

Not that he was complaining.

AT ALL. 

You moaned, looking at the way his cock jumped against his tummy, while you slipped your dress off, letting it pool around your feet. You stepped out of your panties before kneeling on the mattress between his legs, the tip of his cock silky with precum. 

“You’re cock is pretty” You shifted down, your nose nudging along his shaft, placing feather light kisses until you reached the tip, pulling away. Bucky bucked his hips up in frustration, biting his lip while you cooed, batting your lashes at him. “Look at that pretty pink tip baby, all wet and swollen” Your index finger circled over his slit making him cry out as you gathered his arousal, sucking it off your finger immediately after. “And you taste so good too soldier” 

You were the furthest thing from innocent, you were the devil with a halo and angel wings. 

“I wanna suck you Sergeant, thought about your fat cock down my throat, all night” You bent over to slip just the tip past your lips, gently suckling his cock head, while Bucky thrusted up chasing more of your mouth. He had to force his eyes open while you stuck your tongue out, your hand grasping his cock, dragging his tip all over your tongue, coating it in precum. 

“Oh-oh god” Bucky moaned, you’d sucked him before but never like this, never so filthy “What the fuck are you doing to me baby” 

You giggled, wrapping your arms around his meaty thighs, your shoulders urging them wider as you kissed down to his balls, humming at the salty taste of his skin and his soft natural scent that left you craving move. He whimpered at the feeling of your lips, his cock twitching. 

“Oh, you’re sensitive here baby” You cooed, flicking your tongue down the seam of his balls, nipping the sensitive flesh of his inner thigh. “Tell your slut what you want Sergeant, I’ll be a good girl for you”

“Suck my balls, c’mon, put that mouth to use, get’em wet, put them in your mouth baby, they’re nice and full for you-FUCk” His back arched of the bed as you opened your mouth wide, taking both in your mouth, laving and sucking them. You moaned around his balls, while he took your hand and wrapped it around his aching length, guiding you to stroke him.  

“Feel that?” He gazed down at you, panting as he helped you jerk his cock, his head thrown back at the feeling of your soft hands, “You feel how hard my dick is? How thick and swollen is it for you baby? M’so fuckin’ hard and full of cum right now-shit” 

“Yesss, jerk my cock baby, keep using your mouth, play with my balls, feels good” He let go of your hand, bringing it down to card through your hair, pushing you further between his legs. His hips squirming, nearly grinding on your face while he continued to make a mess on his tummy, precum steadily dribbling from the tip. 

“You’re messy Sergeant” You cocked an eyebrow while Bucky smirked, pulling you up by your hair and giving it a few gentle tugs. 

“You make me messy you fucking slut, come here n’clean me up” He guided you down to his lower tummy, where you licked up his happy trail, not wasting a drop. “Yeah, lick it up baby, lick your Sergeant’s mess, you like that? You like getting your sergeant all needy and horny for you?”

You nodded, letting your tongue drag across his abs, your lips sucking off every bit of his silky cream. By now, your thighs were equally stick, your pussy screaming for some type of relief. You straddled him, rubbing the tip all over your clit while Bucky bit his lip, unsure how long he’d last with you on top. 

“Doll..doll what are you-

“M’gonna ride you now baby” You gave him a quick tug before lining him up with your pussy, his eyes growing wide. 

“I-I didn’t put a condom on yet baby-”

“Better hold it and pull out in time” You shrugged, sinking down onto his cock without warning, Bucky eyes rolling back, a deep moan dripping from his lips. 

“OH-Sh-shiiittt-” He could have sworn he had died and gone to heaven, he thought your pussy was perfect before but the raw feeling of your warm cunt was no match. He almost whined from pleasure, his balls tightening against his body. 

“You like feeling my pussy raw baby?” 

“Fuck yes, m’never using a condom with you again, fuck that shit, I’m putting my bare cock in you every chance I get” He groaned, his head thrown back against the pillow. 

“I forgot to tell you Sergeant, I forgot to take my birth control this morning” You gave him a faux innocent pout, rocking and winding your hips as you rode him, “But its too late now, you already put your bare cock in me” 

Okay, now he had died and gone to heaven. Or hell, cause you were nothing but pure sin in this moment. 

“You fucking dirty little slut, you wanted this huh, wanted to fuck you sergeant raw?”

“Wanted to make sergeant a daddy” You shot him a wink that made Bucky 10 times more feral. He planted his feet up, thrusting up into with abandon, all of his curses and moans bouncing off the walls. 

“Go a head then, make me a daddy” He pounded you with all his might as you collapsed into his hold. Bucky’s arms wrapped around your limp body, hugging you tightly to him while he railed you. 

“JAMESJAMESJAMES-I-”

“M’Gonna cum” Bucky moaned in your ear, fucking you faster” Take daddy’s fat fuckin’ load baby, be a good girl and make room for daddy”

“OH FUCK-” Your hands gripped onto his shoulders, your nails leaving crescent shaped intents. The sting just turned him on more. 

“I know, I know, such a tight pussy can’t handle it huh” He panted, chest heaving, body covered in a this sheen of sweat. You gathered yourself together, sitting up again and planting your hands on his chest, moving your hips to meet his thrusts. 

“Fuck, I wanna make daddy cum” You cried you, bouncing on him faster, nearly screaming when he brought his thumb to strum your clit. 

“You’re gonna make daddy blow his load baby, cum with me when you make me a fuckin’ daddy” 

You cried out as your walls started to spasm around him, clenching and squeezing around him. Bucky couldn’t take his eyes off your perfect form, your boobs bouncing, face contorted with pleasure, your skin glistening from sweat as your rode him till he couldn't hold back anymore. 

“You’re gonna make daddy cum-fuck-ride me angel, just like that, bounce on my cock, yesyesfuckyes FUCCKKK” Bucky nearly roared, his cock bursting with cum, painting your cunt with his seed, his cream making a white mess all over his crotch as you continued to ride him through his high. “Good girl, good fucking girl angel, you made me cum so hard” 

“Did I go good Sergeant?” You whimpered, grinding down on his softening cock, while Bucky chuckled, too fucked out to open his eyes. 

“You did-you did amazing angel, c’mere” He pulled you own towards him, keeping his cock buried in you while you hummed contently, wrapping your arm around his waist with your head on his chest. 

“My girl is something else” Bucky panted, kissing your forehead while you giggled, back to your shy self, hiding in his hold. 

“Only for you, sergeant” 

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[mrwavellswaps]

Santa’s Solution

(Christmas Special)

It was the night of Christmas Eve and all across the world towns and cities were lit up with sparking colourful lights to celebrate the holidays. Everywhere you looked there was beauty as there always was this time of year. And nobody could see that beauty better than Santa Claus himself as he soared through the skies with his sleigh full of presents and magical reindeer leading the way. Of course most believed him to be a fairy tale but he was very much real. Simply using a little Christmas magic to make adults who didn’t believe in him think the presents he’d brought were ones they’d bought themselves. And of course he used a little magic to make sure nobody ever saw him either. That was one of the number one rules. Nobody is allowed to see Santa.

Well this night it would appear something had gone a little wrong with his magic when he entered the home of Brett Rivers. Usually his Christmas magic would make it so nobody would be awoken when he stopped by to drop off a present or two or that they would just so happen to drift off to sleep when he arrived. However this night it would not go as planned.

Brett found himself fluttering awake to the sound of rustling coming from his small living room. At first he thought it was nothing but when he heard what sounded like footsteps, he knew he had to check it out. He quietly slid out of bed in nothing but a pair of boxers, showcasing his huge muscular physique. Thick and bulky arms, solid powerful legs and a pair of melons for pecs.

He wasn’t at all scared by the noises being the buff guy that he was but he was sure to grab the bat underneath his bed just in case.

He silently made his way down the small corridor outside his bedroom and towards the living room where he turned the corner and saw none other than Santa Claus himself. Or at least a dude dressed up as Santa. He’d been expecting a burglar so the sight of the fat old man dressed up in red and white certainly had him lost for words for a few moments until he finally snapped out of it. “Oi! What the hell are you doing in my house!?” He shouted while bringing the bat up into a position ready to swing.

Startled, Santa whipped around to see the angry and confused hunk of a man standing behind him. “O-oh? You shouldn’t be out of bed Brett.” He said, knowing Brett’s name immediately, with an equal amount of confusion in his voice. “Oh dear… this has never happened before.” Santa hummed with a hint of frustration as he realised he’d broken one of the Christmas rules that he wasn’t allowed to be seen dropping off presents. “This won’t do at all.” He added whilst stroking his long white beard as if trying to come up with some kind of solution to the awkward situation.

“What the fuck are you talking about you crazy old man!” Brett shouted, getting angrier by the second. “How the hell do you know my name!?… N-no I don’t care just get the fuck out before I beat the shit out of your fat ass and call the cops!” He bellowed furiously before taking a few threatening steps closer to the intruder.

Santa sighed. “I’m sorry to do this my boy but I can’t allow that.” The jolly old man suddenly began rubbing his gloved hands together as Brett got closer. The hunk was about to give him one warning before suddenly Santa opened his hands again and blew what seemed to be fairy dust straight in Brett’s face.

The stud coughed as he stumbled backwards slightly, dropping the bat he was holding in the process with a loud thud. His entire body began to feel light and weak as his eyes fluttered. “W…What… did y-you…” Before Brett could even finish his sentence, he fell completely unconscious. Luckily Santa was quick enough to catch him before landed on the floor.

“Ooof… I’ve got you. Just sleep.” The fat bearded man whispered as his magic dust took full effect. Though as he held Brett’s unconscious body, Santa couldn’t help allowing his eyes to wander across the hunky form Brett had build. All the muscular curves and ridges that had been crafted into it along with the thickness that went along with it making Brett look like an adonis. Big Mr Claus couldn’t help licking his lips a little in a moment of perviness that was rather uncharacteristic for him. He soon shook his head however and got back to buisness.

Using a surprising amount of strength, Santa carefully hoisted Brett up onto his feet once again before taking a breath and tossing the muscular man over his shoulder. If his cheeks weren’t already so rosey then he probably would’ve been blushing slightly at having this big handsome almost naked man on his shoulder.

“You’re certainly a strong healthy lad aren’t you my boy.” Santa chuckled slightly as he gave Brett’s muscle ass a cheeky pat before rubbing his hand down the back Brett’s thighs and getting a good feel for those thick hamstrings of his. “Very strong indeed…” he continued to mumble as his hand slid back over Brett’s ass again.

With that Santa made sure he had a good grip on Brett before taking his leave and heading back to his sleigh. Once there he carefully placed the hunk in the back of the sleigh alongside his magical sack of presents. “What am I gonna do with you?…” Santa pondered as he stared down at Brett for a moment, still taking in that young gorgeous body. “Welp. I’ll have to figure that out later. Time is running out and I have presents to deliver!” He declared before heading to the next house that was in need of a couple presents from Santa.

———

The next time Brett awoke he found himself sitting in a cold wooden chair that certainly wasn’t his home. Instead he found himself in what seemed to be some sort of laboratory. It was hard to tell at first but as his vision cleared he began to make out a room filled with all sorts of machines that he couldn’t even begin to understand. There were multiple worktops full of gadgets and devices that’d seemily been crafted here, none of which Brett could make sense of.

“Finally back with us eh? We’ve been waiting forever for that slumber magic to wear off.” Said an elf beside him. “Took your body awhile to wake up after having you under for so many months.” The tiny worker added causally. He worked human enough besides the fact that he looked to have been scaled down a bit in size. And of course the pointy ears. The elf wore a pair of rather sophisticated glasses that sat perfectly atop his nose and would probably be one of his most stand out features if it weren’t for his thick curly beard. He was wearing a typical scientist-y get up comp,ste with the white lab coat you’d usually see yet Brett couldn’t help noticing the tuft of chest hair that stuck out the top of the elf’s collar. He was definitely a furry one.

“W-what!? What’re you talking about?! Months?! What’s-Grrrahh!” As his body began to wake, Brett attempted to jump up from the chair he was seated in only to find both his arms and legs had been tightly strapped down with restraints. “Hey! Let me go you fucking creep!” He shouted while continuing to struggle but his attempts to free himself were all in vain.

The elf who looked to be wearing a messy lab coat of sorts shook his head. “Sorry mister, no can do. Might as well save your strength.” He tutted as he pulled out what looked to be some sort of phone. The scrawny little elf tapped a few buttons before talking into the device. “He’s awake now sir if you’re ready to proceed.”

Brett was even more confused. By this point he was surprised he hadn’t had a panic attack yet. The last thing he could clearly remember was being woken up in the middle of the night before Christmas by some Santa looking fucker breaking into his house and now he was here in the freaky looking gadget workshop. What freaked him out even more though was as he peered over his shoulder he saw one huge machine sat behind him with what looked to be two helmets attached to it.

“What the fuck is that?!” Brett’s voice boomed through the laboratory. When he didn’t get a response however, his face grew red with anger and frustration. “Hey! Answer me you stupid little fuck! What the fuck are you doing to me!?” The jock struggled against his restraints once more in the hopes of performing a miracle and breaking out. But that was only fantasy.

The elf sighed. “Look man. I’ve been instructed not to say anything until the big man gets here. He’ll explain everything to you.” He explained somewhat bluntly. “You know I kinda felt bad for you at first but now… I think I’m starting to see why Mr Claus was okay with going through with this.”

The cryptic wording only made Brett more worried. “C-come on man. Just let me go. Please, I'll give you anything.” Brett’s anger from moments ago turned to pleas as he quickly came to terms with the fact that there was likely no way for him to get out of whatever this was. But once again he was ignored. He begged over and over but the elf had already turned its back to him. There was nothing he could do.

Despite this Brett continued to plead in vain but he would soon be cut short when the large metal door at the opposite end of the room made a beeping sound before sliding open. A wave of nervous anticipation washed over Brett’s body as he saw the fat lumbering form of Santa Claus step foot in the lab.

This time Santa dorned a long sleeved red and white striped button down that just barely managed to stretch across his massive stomach and soft pecs. It was assisted in holding his huge gut in place by a pair of red suspenders that were attached to a large pair of slacks of the same colour. Slacks that also fit the older man's robust frame rather tightly in a way that showed off his fat ass and legs rather nicely.

“Ah! Mr Claus! The machine is prepped and ready for you. Just give the word and we’ll begin the procedure.” The nerdy looking elf who’d been keeping Brett company chirped, seeming elated to be in the large man’s presence.

“Thank you Venix. I wouldn’t be able to do this without you and your team. I’ll be sure to treat you all to something nice after this is over.” Santa smiled warmly at his Head Scientist & Technician who was practically beaming at the words of appreciation. With that however, Santa was quick to turn his attention to the hunk strapped down before him in nothing but a pair of tight underwear.

Mr Claus took a few thunderous steps towards Brett, his belly shaking slightly with each one, until he was stood directly over the jock. “Why hello again Brett. Glad to see you’re back with us. We had to keep you unconscious for quite a few months while we finished this project but it seems it’s finally time.”

There it was again. Months. “What do you mean months!? How long have I been here?? What the fuck is happening?!” Brett panicked aloud.

Santa chuckled. “Well when I brought you here last Christmas this project was only in the planning stage. We hadn’t even begun building the glorious machine you see behind you. So naturally we’ve had to keep you asleep for awhile whilst my trusty elves got to work. And they’ve done a fine job by the looks of it.” He looked up at the large glimmering machine that sat behind Brett which had been charged with a mix between earth’s finest resources and a bit of magic sprinkled in to give it the energy it needed for its purpose. “And to answer your question, it’s now the middle of June.”

The realisation hit Brett like a ton of bricks. Had he really been here for six whole months?! There was no way. It had to be a trick right? “You’re lying!” He claimed. “If I’d really been out for that long I’d practically be skin and bone by now. But I’ve still got all my fucking muscle so cut the bullshit old man!”

“You’re right. Under normal circumstances you would’ve lost most of your muscle mass by now.” Santa admitted. “Luckily for us, the magic we’ve used to keep you asleep also acts as a preservative. Meaning your body has been able to retain its size and mass despite being inactive for so long. Also like you’ve been frozen.” He explained as he leaned forwards and shamelessly groped one of Brett’s thick pecs before then using his other hand to feel the hunks meaty arms. “Mmmm yeah. Perfect condition…” he grunted much to Brett’s own disturbance.

After having his fun, Santa walked past Brett before placing a hand on the machine. Admiring its glory after all the hard sweat and tears his elves put into making it. He couldn’t have been more grateful towards them. Once this was over he was already planning on throwing a big celebration for them all. With that though, Santa turned his gaze towards the other slightly bigger chair beside Brett.

“Well there’s no time like the present I say. Let’s get this show on the road!” Mr Claus announced as walked past Brett again and towards the adjacent chair. As he passed though, Santa couldn’t help jiggling his fat belly, seemingly in a mocking manner. “Take a good look at this stomach Brett because in a few moments it’ll be all yours…” he taunted.

“Huh?! What the hell are you going on about!?!” Brett screamed but he received no answer. Only a mischievous smirk from Santa as he sat down in the other chair. He could only watch in confusion as Venix strapped the burly man into the chair with restraints similar to his own.

Once Santa was securely restrained in the chair, Venix looked up at him with a small smile. “May I send them in now sir?” He asked. Mr Claus simply nodded in response. Of course Brett was once again clueless to what was going on but it soon became clear as Venix stepped out for a moment only to re-enter the room with a huge lobby full of other elves behind him. Most of them were other scientists and engineers that’d worked on the machine while others were just elves who were lucky enough to have been chosen to witness the event. And if that didn’t freak Brett out enough, to make matters worse Venix also mentioned that the camera’s were now on and were broadcasting to the entirety of the Christmas Villa.

The small crowd that’d come to watch the event live began cheering when Santa gave the thumbs up to start the procedure. Venix grabbed one of the helmets that were attached to the machine and first made his way over to Santa as he gently placed the device on his head before securing it in place. Once it was on, Venix swiped up the matching helmet and brought it over to Brett.

“No! Stop! Keep that thing away from me! Get away!” He shouted while writhing in his chair. But with how much he was being restrained and how his body still hadn’t fully recovered its energy after having been knocked out for so long, there was little he could do to stop the elf from forcing the helmet onto his head and swiftly securing it. “Fuck! Get it off!” He continued thrash around but his frustration was immediately drowned out by the growing cheers and excitement of the crowd all whilst Santa grinned in an almost maniacal manner beneath his huge white beard

Venix flipped a few switches and booped a few buttons on the big machine, causing it to roar to life as it started powering up. A sound that excited everyone in the room except for the kidnapped jock. And as the machine continued to hum and glow, Venix made his way over to a small nearby station with a control pad that was hooked up to it. He immediately began to punch in the correct settings before looking over towards Santa again for one last sign of approval before going ahead. A small wink from the big man was all he needed. With all the other elves rallying him on, Venix finally took a deep breath and smacked his hand down on the big red button that would set everything into motion.

The machine began to rattle before glowing even brighter than before. It was generating an incredibly fierce amount of energy that only made Brett more terrified. He wouldn’t have much time to dwell on that however as moments later a powerful current of magic and electricity surged down from the machine and into both helmets. Immediately both Santa and Brett gripped their chairs tightly and the energy flooded through them. It was a feeling that was almost indescribable. In a way it felt both uncomfortable yet satisfying at the same time.

The crowd simply watched in awe as both Brett and Santa’s bodies began to convulse. Brett’s muscle jiggling almost as much as Santa’s fat. Both men couldn’t help letting out uncontrollable groans almost in unison as their eyes began to roll. It was impossible to tell if they were in pain or pleasure. But that wouldn’t matter as soon Brett felt his vision starting to blur.

It was the most surreal experience. One moment it seemed as though he were looking down at the muscular body he was accustomed to and the next he was suddenly looking down at a fat wobbly belly held in place by the very same shirt and suspenders Santa was wearing. Brett’s vision continued to fade in and out between seeing both perspectives. At first he only saw flashes of the fatter body below him before returning to his muscled one but each time it lingered for longer. It was mind boggling in a way that he could barely even comprehend as his view was constantly switching back and forth. Buff to fat to buff to fat again.

The cycle of flashing perspectives continued as the machine fed more and more energy to the helmets until at last there was one massive jolt of energy that caused both men to writhe in their seats. The audience began to look slightly worried but Venix assured them it was all part of the process. And just as he said that, the machine began powering itself down after seemingly having completed its task.

Both Brett and Santa were left unconscious for a minute or so after the machine shut down. During which Venix quickly ran over to them both and removed the helmets but left their restraints in place just in case something had gone wrong. Every elf in the villa that was watching was practically holding their breath waiting to know the results. To know if Santa’s plan had been a success. So when the body of Santa began to groan and come around, they were all eager to see his reaction.

Slowly but surely Brett blinked his eyes open again. “Ughhh… what? What happened?…” he mumbled but immediately he knew something was wrong. His voice. It sounded much older and huskier than before. But that was the least of his concerns. Pretty soon his eyes started to focus and when he looked down, he got the shock of a lifetime.

“WHAT THE FUCK!?!” Brett shrieked as instead of the hunky body he was used to, he looked down to see the body of Santa! His belly looked fucking massive as it stretched out the very same shirt Santa had been wearing. And his legs looked so huge and fat as they filled out those red slacks. Clothes that never would’ve fit his old body were now hugging him tightly as if to emphasise just how fat he was. But that wasn’t all as Brett then quickly came to notice the massive beard that was cascading down from his face. And it was completely white! In that moment he knew what’d happened but his brain couldn’t accept it. It was impossible after all. There was no way he’d actually swapped bodies with Santa!?

It was then that Brett heard a low familiar sounding grumble come from beside him. He whipped his head to the right only to see none other than himself! His own damn body! And it seemed to slowly be waking up as well.

“Sir? Sir, are you okay?” Venix asked as he rushed over towards Brett’s former body.

The hunk shook his head a little as he squinted his eyes open. “Y-yeah. I feel… good.” Santa mumbled. A smirk slowly etched itself across his face as he got a good look at his body below. No longer was his vision obscured by the presence of a massive gut nor did he feel so heavy and old. Instead he felt stronger than he had in years! He could already feel a youthful energy pulsing through his very being! “I feel… absolutely fantastic! Quick Venix! Take off these restraints!” He commanded with excitement.

The elf undid the arm restraints first before quickly undoing the ones binding Santa’s legs. Immediately the man jumped up out of the chair and started to inspect his new form. First of all running his hands along his chest and stomach. He couldn’t help but chuckle as he groped his new pecs. They were so thick yet so firm at the same time unlike the flabby chest his old body had. But his stomach was what threw him off the most. He’d gotten so used to his big belly that he almost forgot what it was like to have a flat stomach. And on top of that he even had abs! There were hardly even words to describe what he was feeling right now besides pure wonder and astonishment.

“God yes. I should’ve done this years ago!” Santa claimed as he started to flex. Loving how his thick new arms bulged with every movement. Feeling a rush of pure dopamine as his biceps peaked before his eyes. Despite being smaller than he was before, all the strength and muscle made him feel like a one man army. Like he could take on absolutely anything and anyone! All the while his elves continued to watch on in curiosity as their leader examined his new body.

“H-hey! That’s mine! That’s my fucking body!” Brett began to shout from the other chair, still strapped down but that didn’t stop him from struggling again anyway. “You can’t do this! Switch us back now or I’ll… I’ll…”

“You’ll what?” Santa asked smugly while turning his gaze towards his former fat body. “Sorry Brett but there’s nothing you can do. I’ve been in need of an upgrade for a long time and your body is the perfect fit.” He added before striking another cocky pose to which the elves began cheering their new Santa on.

“But you can’t… I can’t… I’m not old and fat…” Brett mumbled, looking down at himself again.

Santa sauntered over towards Brett with a confident swagger. “Sorry my boy but… you are.” He leaned in until their faces were only inches apart. It was jarring on a whole other level for Brett to be stared down by his own handsome face. “And I’m young and strong.” He taunted before leaning in even closer until Brett could feel his former body’s hot breath on his ear. “You’re fat and I’m buff. You’re old and I’m young. I’m gorgeous and you’re not. You have a tiny dick and I’m hung… as… fuck.” Santa whispered so the elves didn’t hear but every word shocked Brett to the core as it forced him to come to terms with reality.

“Oops.” Santa said as he glanced down at the already hefty bulge in his underwear starting to grow. “Guess I’m getting a little too excited.” He chuckled. With that he looked over his shoulder at Venix before asking the head scientist to clear the room and shut down the camera’s so they may have some privacy. Before long the elves had all piled out of the room and the two men were finally alone.

“Well I’ve got to say my boy, being inside your body feels even more exhilarating than I’d anticipated. You’ve certainly taken good care of yourself haven’t you? A body like this doesn’t happen overnight. A good diet, lots of exercise. I imagine it took a lot of hard work.” Santa continued to flex and explore his new form. Admiring the definition of each muscle he traced his fingers along. “Don’t worry. I’ll be sure to try and keep up whatever routines you have to take good care of this body for you.”

By this point Brett was too beaten and embarrassed to even muster a reply. What could he even say at this point anyway? It was already made clear to him that this wasn’t being undone. Santa Claus had stolen his body and there was nothing he could do about it besides accept whatever his new fate was inside this massive new body.

“So what? Am I gonna have to go out on Christmas now? Deliver all your damn presents?” Brett mumbled.

“Oh no not at all. You might look like the jolly old man everyone expects but I’m still Santa Claus. I’ll still be delivering all the presents every Christmas Eve. Lord knows it’ll be easier with this fit body.” He commented before flexing his arm again and kissing his bicep. “You will stay here. My elves will take care of all your needs. They’ll get you everything you need whether that be food, entertainment or anything else within reason. Can’t have you going back to civilisation after all. Not after all this.” The jock sighed.

As bad as this all was for Brett, he had to admit that wasn’t the worst deal. No more responsibilities to worry about. No more work, no more bills, no more working out. He could just laze around and do whatever he wanted.

Santa glanced down at his crotch again. “Well I’m gonna head back to my house in the villa while I’ve got this new cock under control. I’ll send a few elves in to help you out of those restraints when I leave. They’ll show you to your new place.” He explained nonchalantly as he strutted towards the exit, loving the naturally confident way his muscular body moved. “Oh and play nice. If you try anything funny, I’ve given them permission to gas you with more slumber magic.”

With that Brett could do nothing but watch as the new Santa Claus walked away with his body. He still couldn’t quite believe this was all real. He kept thinking that any minute he’d wake up at home in his own bed having just had a bad dream. But as a handful of elves entered the room a few minutes later, it became clearer and clearer to Brett just how real this all was. Santa had stolen his body.

———

The elves couldn’t keep their eyes off the jock that made his way down the corridor. Instead of their usual happy greetings, most elves just looked on curiously. Not knowing what to do or say. Of course him being almost naked with a rather intimidating bulge in his underwear probably had something to do with that. Yet their locked gazes would only serve to make Santa feel even more cocky about his new body. Of course he knew it’d probably take some adjusting for them all in the long term to get used to his new look but he knew that before long they'd be looking at him as if he’d always been a muscle bound hunk.

As soon as he stepped outside, Santa felt a chill run down his body. He was cold. It’d been so long that he’d almost forgotten the feeling. His old body had completely acclimated the temperatures of the North Pole but this new one was unfamiliar. Strangely though he welcomed the feeling. It was yet another sensation that came with this body that almost seemed brand new, once again reminding him of his success. However that didn’t stop him from speeding up his stride to get out of the cold just a bit quicker.

He was released once he finally stepped inside his little house at the top of the villa. The warm and cozy feeling of the permanently Christmas themed home running over him immediately just as it always did. With a sigh Santa stretched his arms above his head as he walked through the living area and towards the bedroom. He passed the kitchen on the way and couldn’t help glancing at the fridge for a moment as he remembered what was in there. Mountains of tasty yet very unhealthy food. “I’ll need to clean that out and put some proper food in as soon as I get the chance.” He thought to himself, not wanting to risk ruining this new body.

Once he entered the bedroom however, that same grin from before re-emerged. Finally he was alone. No elves around to stare, No Brett around to curse him out or beg for his body back. Santa was all alone and finally able to explore the body he’d been fantasising about for months leading up to the swap. The one he’d been jerking off too every other night at the mere thought of touching it. Now it was his. Every inch of that gorgeous muscle he’d been admittedly jealous of while watching Brett sleep was now all under his control!

Right away he began examining his new form properly and where better to start than admiring all of that very muscle! He started by doing the obvious and bringing his arms inwards into an arms and pecs flex. In an instant that soft muscle on his chest hardened into pecs of steel. Veins popping down his forearms in the process while his biceps bulged with strength that Santa had never before felt. Sure he had a little magic power but this power was different. It was raw and physical in a way that made him feel superior.

He continued to go through the motions of performing the typical muscle man poses you’d see meatheads doing all the time. Continuing to flex his arms as he brought them up into the more traditional double bicep pose, his head whipping back and forth between looking at both arms in wonder. Immediately after he bent down slightly while keeping his arms flexed before twisting his body in a way that showed off his huge back and lats. It felt incredible! If he had an audience right now he was sure they’d be eating it up.

Once Santa had finished his little gun show, he moved on to simply groping at his new muscle instead as his hands roamed every inch of his new form. Naturally his pecs were the first to get a squeeze and doing immediately prompted a small groan and twitch from his new cock. Squeezing that firm muscle now that it was his own felt even more erotic than he’d imagined. So much so that both hands lingered on his chest for a good few minutes just groping away. It wasn’t long before he figured out the mind muscle connection to start making his pecs bounce and that action alone was enough to make him start chuckling like an idiot while his new cock grew harder with every bounce.

“Uuuughh… fuuuck yeahhh…” Santa groaned as he used one hand to continue groping at his chest while the other slid down to his crotch. Gently he began to stroke his cock through his underwear and the sensitivity of it was off the charts. He hadn’t even pulled it out yet but just the feeling of his hand rubbing across that fat member was causing shivers to run up his body. He supposed he’d been stuck with that old man dick for so long that he’d forgotten what it was like to have such a young and virile cock. “Mmmm come on Claus… gotta hold it together.” He mumbled to himself as he mustered up the strength to stop rubbing his cock. For now.

After giving himself a moment to calm down and finally being able to pull away from his pecs, Santa began hitting a multitude of different poses. Not just typical bodybuilder poses however. Now he was posing more like a Greek god as he relished in the amount of grace his new form was able to move and pose with.

Poses that would’ve before been rather unflattering on him now looked awe inspiring. During which he couldn’t help admiring the sheer level of flexibility of his new form. Flexibility that allowed him to effortlessly move into positions that glamorised his muscular form in a way that would’ve inspired many to either look up to him or wish to worship him. Or perhaps both.

Soon enough though, his posing was once again brought to an end by the desire to touch himself. He gave his juicy muscle tits another quick squeeze before moving on to groping his biceps instead. Once again flexing them and loving just how firm and strong they felt. And once he was done with those he couldn’t but admire his thick boulder-like shoulders at least a little. Rubbing them in a way that made it look as though he were giving himself a hug. But after that his interests wandered further south yet again. This time going past his pecs and towards his stomach. Of course he’d already had a chance to admire his new abs a little earlier on but as he brushed his hands across them, he couldn’t help taking notice of the new tattoo on his left side just below his lats.

“Would you look at that. Ain’t ever had tattoos before.” Santa commented as he traced the ink. Of course he’d know about Brett’s tattoos. He’d seen the man pretty much nude enough times to know. But seeing those tattoos now on himself was still an intriguing experience. In fact it only prompted him to look further down at his body towards the much bigger and more noticeable tattoo on his left thigh. It was one of a snake that Santa had to admit looked pretty damn awesome. Though he’d never considered himself a tattoo’s kind of person before with his whole jolly old man persona, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the little bit of ink this new body had. Hell maybe he’d even look into getting a few more some day. Maybe a candy cane or something to reflect his Christmas spirit.

Whilst admiring the snake tattoo, Santa of course couldn’t help admiring the leg it was inked onto in the process. Both of his legs in fact. They were huge! But not in the fat way that they were before. No. Now they were thick and powerful with pure masculinity. He felt as though he could squat a damn mountain! Just every part of this body made him feel invincible to the point where he found himself wondering yet again why the hell he hadn’t done this sooner!?

Once he was finished admiring his thick new trunks, Santa knew he had to check out the ass. He did his best to look over his shoulder and he could just about catch a glimpse of the round muscle ass he now carried on his backside. He couldn’t help himself. Before Santa even knew it, both his hands slithered towards his backside before latching onto his bubbly cheeks. Once again having a big ass wasn’t anything new to him but just like everything else, now it was large in a different way that was so much more satisfying. Santa just couldn’t stop himself from placing each hand below one cheeks before jiggling his ass. Feeling the muscle wobble behind him had to have been one of the most erotic things he’d felt in a long time. So much so that it looked as though his cock was going to burst out of his underwear at any second with how stiff it was!

He couldn’t ignore it any longer. This new cock was begging for his attention. Demanding it even. And who was he to ignore it’s call. And so rather than pulling off his underwear, in a moment of horniness, Santa uses his newfound strength to rip a hole in the front of them instead and doing so only turned him on even more. A youthful cock bucking and leaking as it was finally set free from his prison. And with a face full of pure lust, Santa gripped his stolen cock with an iron grip and started stroking it intensely.

“Mmmmm… soooo haaarrrdddd! Soooo haarrrrddddd!!!” Santa moaned using Brett’s deep tone as he was consumed by desire. He hadn’t had an erection this stiff in centuries. It felt so incredible to the point where the lust itself was driving him mad!and it certainly didn’t help that this body hadn’t nutted in months over the time that Brett had been unconscious. These new bull nuts of his were practically begging to blow his seed everywhere.

He was so horny. So god damn horny. The more he stoked, the harder it was to think about anything but his dick. “Gotta cum! Gotta cum!” He would start to groan. It was like his cock had taken over his mind and all he wanted now was to unload his balls. So much so that he’d begun jerking his dick with an incredibly fiery passion. All the while literally everything from the feeling of his muscular body to the sound of his new voice only continued to ramp his horniness up further and further .

Naturally it wasn’t long before he could feel himself starting to get close. But as he did his body reacted on its own. Instead of continuing to jerk his cock normally, Santa leapt onto the bed and immediately began humping his bed sheets. Rubbing his cock aggressively against the sheets as if he were fucking something. His thick muscle ass rising up and down with every thrust while his moans only grew needier. And just as his body was on autopilot, his mind was as well as he started to imagine his head scientist Venix on the bed below him. The small yet hairy little elf took the pounding of a lifetime as Santa stuffed his fat new cock inside the elf’s hole. God it was so hot as he thought of Venix’s cry’s of pleasure mixing with his own. It was sending him into a tailspin! At this rate he was gonna-

“UGH! UGHHH! UUGHHHHHHHHhuuuuuuuu…” Santa found himself clenching his new muscle ass while shooting what was probably the fattest load of his life all over the bed sheets below, splattering them in his thick jock seed. And it just wouldn’t stop. His dick was like a broken faucet that couldn’t stop leaking. Every time he thought it was over, his body would clench again and another rope of cum would shoot from his cock. It wasn’t until the bed below him seemed nearly drenched in cum did it finally seem to stop.

With that the hunk let himself drop limp onto the bed despite dampness. “Holy… that was… incredible.” Santa was at last able to say as his mind cleared again. After which he simply just smiled to himself as he closed his eyes and allowed himself to rest in the puddle of his own cum for a while.

Buuuut his rest didn’t last long. After all that Santa knew he was gonna need a nice long shower to clean up and he couldn’t have been more excited to lather up this new form with soap. And so he hopped off the bed yet again with ease with his cock still bouncing eagerly between his legs. Somehow after all of that it was already hard again! It was unreal but Santa certainly wasn’t complaining as he reached down and grabbed his still dripping before smacking it against his other hand a few times. “God it feels good to be young and hung.”

Santa quickly swiped up another pair of grey boxer briefs he had ready to go for once he’d taken this body and began pulling them on. He didn’t need to really but he was just curious to see if they actually fit him now. After awkwardly tucking his erection into the front, they fit pretty well. He loved how the tight fit showed off not only his bulge but his ass so damn well also. Following this however he immediately got to work pulling off his sheets and stripping it all down so it was ready to be washed.

Once that was taken care of however, Santa stepped foot in the bathroom and finally caught sight of his reflection. Somehow he’d managed to miss almost every mirror on his way home but now as he stood before his own bathroom mirror, he could finally see what he was working with reflected back at him. Instead of the flabby figure this mirror had grown accustomed to showing every day, now it showed something far superior. A jock. A hunk. A hot fucking meathead. But it wasn’t just his body, it was his face.

Seeing that handsome face in the mirror was both jarring and at the same time the most incredible thing Santa could’ve imagined. Seeing every feature move under his own accord. Every blink, every twitch. All of it was him. Even after all that it was still hard to believe and his brain was still trying to catch up. Despite that he found himself reaching up and running his fingers gently across his new features. Inspecting them all so carefully. Running a hand softly through his thick brown hair before bringing it down to rub through his short new beard. Feeling how smooth his young new skin felt in comparison to the wrinkles he’d known for so long. Even simply finding wonder in the fact that things such as his nose were a different size and shape compared to before. It was all these little details rolled into one that made the whole experience so extraordinary.

He must've stood in front of the mirror for nearly an hour as he admired both his face and body. And half of that time was spent with his back to the mirror so he could stare at the reflection of his jock butt. It was addictive. And the whole time his cock was pressing angrily against his underwear once again. He’d really have to find a way to keep that thing under control otherwise it was gonna be hard to even leave the house without the elves all locking eyes with his crotch whenever he went anywhere.

“Well. Suppose I should actually get on with things.” He thought to himself with a sigh as he took one last look in the mirror before kicking off the new underwear once more. And with that he grinned as he flipped on the shower and stepped under the steaming water and allowed it to cascade down his body and cock. With how his monstrous member was already bucking at him again, Santa had a feeling he probably wouldn’t be stepping out of the shower again until he’d busted another nut…

———

Almost six months had passed since Santa had stolen Brett’s body. It was December 23rd and Christmas was right around the corner. Usually at this time of the year the elves had already finished making all their toys and they’d all be celebrating alongside Santa with a huge buffet meal. But this year things were a little different.

Brett, in Santa’s original body, was present at the buffet and digging in just as Santa usually would. The real Santa on the other had only stayed for a while to celebrate and eat his healthy prepped food but eventually he had to leave so he could get his last Pre-Christmas workout in.

Even since before the swap, Santa had been getting a gym built out of preparation. It was a little side project he had going on while the swapping machine was being constructed. That said ever since the swap he’s been making incredible use of it. He’d been going in there at least 6 times a week religiously which hadn’t been too difficult thanks to the routine his new body already had installed into it. The workouts themselves however were a little rough to begin with. He did better than expected thanks to muscle memory but he still needed to do a lot of research before he was performing at the same level Brett once was in the gym. But with how determined Santa was to keep this body as huge and jacked as possible, it wasn’t long before he was practically a pro in the gym. He was lifting weight like a beast and always pushing his muscles to their limits. And he loved every second! The feeling of it was invigorating to him now. So much so that he actually needed to force himself to take a day off most days but even then he’d usually end up doing some cardio in the form of jogging around the villa.

It was almost incredible how well he’d taken to fitness. It was the only thing he’d been worried about before the swap. Worried that he wouldn’t be able to keep up the intense routine that Brett did to forge this body. Worried that he’d end up getting lazy and lose all the muscle he was about to steal. But the result was the complete opposite. If anything he was pushing himself even further than Brett ever could with how much more free time he had in comparison. Just in the last couple of months he could swear he’s not only been able to maintain his jockish form but has even grown a tad bit bigger!

A small crowd of elves had even come to watch him workout which Santa didn’t mind in the slightest. If anything it just gave him a chance to show off just how fucking swole he was. He just adored seeing the shocked looks on their faces as he did multiple sets with weights that some of the elves wouldn’t even be able to move on their own. It only fuelled Santa’s cocky ego even further.

That was something a lot of eleven had begun to notice about their new leader. His ego. At the end of the day he was still incredibly kind and jolly but most had to admit that he wasn’t quite as humble as he was before. At least not when it came to his body. He never had any problems showing off his physique and flexing cockily for the elves just for them to shower him in praise. Even now as he wore his baggy Christmas get up that’d been resized to fit his new body, he still looked incredible!

Santa continued going through the motions of it all until finally his workout came to end. He racked up his weights and grabbed the fluffy red jacket he’d discarded part way through his session with a satisfied smile on his face as he made his way over to the pack of elves.

“Ahhhhhh… all ready for tomorrow night I think guys.” Santa commented while hitting a quick pose which was fast met with applause.

“Can’t wait for my first big night with this form. Can’t wait to see how much easier it’s going to be now.” He laughed. It was truly an exciting occasion. Sure he’d done his Christmas run hundreds of times but this year he could tell it was going to be truly special. More so than it’d been in a long time for him. But that wasn’t just because he’d be checking himself out on every reflective surface he saw while delivering presents. It was also because he had an amazing present of his own waiting for him when he got home…

After that first day in this new body when he’d fantasied about fucking Venix’s brains out, Santa hadn’t been able to help making subtle moves on the intelligent elf who’d lead the project that’d given him this body. Dropping hints every now and then that made the elf blush profusely until one day Santa couldn’t stop himself. Without thinking he grabbed Venix and pinned him against a wall with ease before pressing their bearded lips together. After that it wasn’t long before the two found a supply closet in the laboratory building and Santa used his new fat cock to resize Venix’s hole.

Ever since then Santa had been fucking Venix constantly to satiate his cock’s desire. So much so that Venix practically moved into Santa’s little house. The two never explicitly why they’d made this decision but most of the elves had a good idea given this new ‘young and hung’ version of Santa.

And so the plan was for Santa to arrive back home on Christmas morning and as soon as the festivities were over, he and Venix would be spending the rest of Christmas locked up in Santa’s bedroom as he filled the hairy elf to the brim with jock cum over and over until Santa was finally satisfied. He’d say it was going to be a Christmas to remember but chances were all he was gonna remember were the sounds of his fat bull balls smacking loudly against Venix’s ass in every which position…

Hope you all enjoyed this late Christmas Present from yours truly! Happy New Years to you all! 💜💜💜

[livingemkayde]

ch vi. bruises

joel miller x f!reader x unrequited!tommy miller (no outbreak AU)

chapter six of chaser

warnings: 18+ minors please dni. ooof okay where to start, smut unprotected p in v, mentions of bruising from sex? fighting like actual real life fist fighting, rough but sweet sex, grinding, lowkey some cockwarming?? kinda unwanted kissing, tommy being annoying and somewhat overbearing, and unwanted touching, but not sexual. caroline. just, caroline. because she deserves her own warning for this one. no use of y/n.

summary: everything comes to a head at tommy's birthday party.

a/n: this is genuinely the longest part/chapter thing i've ever written so enjoy. tommy is really annoying in this one, im still deciding if he's going to have a redemption arc. sorry this took so long. as always, i love you all so much. MY TUMBLR LITERALLY SHIT ITS PANTS WHEN I TRIED TO EDIT THE TAGLIST SO IM SORRY IF YOU GUYS GOT TAGGED LIKE 400 TIMES.

if you would like to read more of mine: masterlist!

“What’s goin’ on?” Joel says, almost a whisper. You’re still not sure if he’s talking to you or Tommy. You can't take your eyes off Tommy’s gaze. From the looks of it, Joel’s question makes Tommy more angry and way more confused.  “Joel,” you say, trying to look for any indication in Tommy’s face that he’s not going to go bat shit crazy. “‘S fine. We’re okay.”  But Joel doesn’t listen. Because he’s Joel Miller and maybe you can’t see it right now, but you can hear the concern dripping off his tone—an indication that he won’t ever leave. Not now. So he stalks towards you both and you try to shake your head no, and he doesn’t listen. 

You can almost remember it like it was yesterday. 

A few weeks back, the first time you invited Tommy in for a drink after dinner. Sarah was asleep back at the house, Joel was doing — god knows what. The sun was set, the mosquitoes were probably out, and there was a quiet, even maybe too quiet silence when Tommy pulled up to your house. 

He had asked what the rest of your plans were for the night. 

You had said nothing much, not knowing it was an invitation — he stayed till 2 a.m. that night. 

But it was okay. Because he made you laugh and you enjoyed his company. He was interesting. Tommy told you about how he never wanted to go into contracting in the first place. About his broken bones, his all time biggest regrets, how he was smitten with his old high school flame turned mean cheerleader until graduation. 

It was the first time you ever realized he was — well — his own person in the sense. Not just Joel’s younger brother. But Tommy. Tommy Miller. 

Maybe in another life Tommy might’ve even been good for you. A perfect pair — a match. He wasn’t mean and brooding and he certainly didn’t have 12 years on you. 

And he made you smile. And he was genuinely—genuinely interested in your life. Your post grad prospects, college, books, and even how you played soccer just like Sarah when you were younger.

But when he leaned in that night, closer to you than ever before. You froze. Like genuinely frozen, and you couldn’t even dare to look down to his slowly approaching lips, let alone how his arms caged you in. 

“First kiss?” you remember him asking.

You had just stuttered out nonsense, not wanting to breathe too hard and run the risk of pushing your lips flush with his. 

“I — um —” you nervously laughed. You couldn’t even think—not in the way you should—not when the first person that comes to mind when Tommy says, kiss is his brother. 

He had leaned in closer then—more tentative. Like you were a scared deer in headlights or a frightened kitten and he was inching forward, wanting to move closer. 

But you didn’t really do — anything. 

And he had pulled back a bit, gave you a teasing look and a ruffle on the head and continued with the conversation.  

In all honesty you were scared that he might've been inching forward to kiss you. The small fear settling through a slightly erratic heartbeat and nervous laughs. 

You were scared then, but can’t really remember the last time you’ve felt this kind of fear. 

Hurt, discomfort, shock, maybe. 

And although it was being quickly replaced with anger, you don’t remember this feeling — this kind of fear. Not even the kind you get from watching a scary movie — where you can feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins and then dissipating when the screen goes dark, and the lights turn back on and all you have to worry about is if the scary nun from the big screen will appear in your dreams. 

You can remember all the last times you’ve gotten mad, sure. Mainly at the Miller brothers. 

But never fear — well, not until right now. 

Because whoever that Tommy was is definitely not the same guy staring back at you right now, with a bruised fist, an angry look swirled with hurt marked permanently on his face and one emotion that you can definitely place behind his eyes — jealousy. 

_

Some hours earlier. 

You spread colorful tablecloth over the mismatched tables in Joel’s backyard. The string lights are being hung up, Joel stands on a ladder towards your right, the sound of a hammer echoing through the small backyard. 

You pick your phone out of your back pocket, checking the time. You also find it in you to check Tommy’s texts again, but no other messages have been sent since last night. You look down at your phone — at the messages — and sit against one of the tables. 

Yesterday: 

You: can we talk in person?

Tommy Miller: I’ll see you tomorrow at the party?

You hadn’t seen the text until this morning, when Joel and you found it in yourselves to get out of bed, have a shower, and start setting up for the party. So when you saw it, you would be lying if you said your heart didn’t skip a beat. 

You’re a bit nervous at the prospect. You did not want to talk to him at his party—honestly just trying to text him so that the air would be cleared for the party. 

But his words echo in your mind. 

“Just think ‘bout it before you say no.” 

You let out a cursed sigh. 

Tommy had to know. Right?

If he knew the dreaded ‘no’ was already braced on your lips he had to know. That this thing between you and Tommy would never work out. That you’re way better as friends. That it would ruin everything — the dynamics of it all — that you were smitten with his brother and you guys had just slept together for the second time without Tommy’s knowledge and that—

“Alright?”

Joel stands in front of you, dipping his head to see a scowl marked on your face. You quickly — maybe even too quickly — forget about the messages, hell, forget about Tommy. 

Because Joel looks handsome. He’s always handsome, you’ve thought since the moment you met him at the bar. There’s something intoxicating about him, his arms, the curve of his neck. His brooding nature does him justice — a uniqueness about him that makes you want to uncover more, learn more, see more. 

You remember last night—very vividly through small ebbs and flows of sleep. The moonlight seeped into your skin as you both rolled around in gray sheets. 

It makes your cheeks heat a bit at the thought. 

You remember everything. Every little detail. You don’t think you’ll ever forget. 

You tuck your phone back into your pocket. 

“Yeah, sorry. ‘S just…” you trail off, he nods his head in understanding, coming closer to you. 

He braces his hands on either side of your body, caging you in. Your faces study each other’s mere inches apart. 

“Tablecloth givin’ you trouble?” Joel teases in a soft whisper, looking down at your lips, then back to your eyes. 

“Funny,” you say with a grin and run your tongue over your lips. 

“You need help, baby, all you gotta do is ask.” Joel’s small smile plays on his lips for a fleeting second. You miss it as soon as it’s gone. 

“Duly noted. But I’m not the one who’s been hanging up string lights for the past hour.”

He pats your ass a bit, teasing you and pushing out a playful sigh. 

“Perfection takes time.” 

Joel’s beginning to dip his head to kiss you, but you find it in you to bite back.

“And yet the left side’s still lower than the right,” you whisper, pulling your head back slightly. He turns quickly to look at the fence, but gives you a harder slap on your ass when he realizes the lights are, in fact, straight. 

Joel chuckles, pushing off from the table, you turn back around to continue fixing the cloths, and look back at him over your shoulder. 

He’s looking back at you too. 

“You’re killin’ me,” he says, and you smile to yourself when you turn back around. 

_

You look around the backyard and check your phone for the millionth time since the party started. You can hear Sarah running around, screaming a bit while jumping into the pool. But your brows furrow when you find that Tommy still hasn’t texted you. 

You spot a tuft of red hair swinging through your vision and spin to find Janet Baker squeezing through the crowd. 

“Janet!” you say, approaching her quickly. You’re happy to see her—Tommy didn’t invite many people you’re familiar with. 

“Hey, Doll. Thanks for the invite!” she says, pulling you into a quick hug, but when she sees the look on your face, her mouth drops into a frown. “Sweetie, you okay?” 

“Yeah, sorry. I—Tommy didn’t…I don’t really know anyone here,” you reply while sheepishly looking around the small, bustling backyard. It’s the kind of feeling you try your best to avoid. Like everyone is in on some secret joke that you have no clue about. Or everyone knows each other and you can’t even put faces to names because you don’t know any names—like right now. 

“‘S fine—I’m happy to see you made it,” you let out a defeated chuckle. 

“‘F course, baby. Charlotte really wanted to see Sarah,” she nods towards the girls in the pool, Charlotte’s red hair looking strikingly similar to the woman standing in front of you. Janet seems to be on her second drink of the afternoon, you saw her tipping back a solo cup out of the corner of your eye earlier. 

“What are you drinking?” you ask her, nodding at her cup. 

“Someone brought a fancy lookin’ wine I popped open,” she says, giving you a sly smile. “Why don’t we get you a drink? You’ll like this,” she says, you don’t have much time to react, she’s already pulling you towards the drink station. 

You both settle into a comfortable silence, looking around the backyard while Janet pours your drink. 

“So,” she says, giving you a wink. 

“So…” you echo, sending a nervous laugh her way. 

“Who’s that girl,” she nods towards Caroline while passing you a cup, you take a big sip, Janet fills it back up to the top without a second glance. 

“Caroline,” you say looking at her and Joel. They’re talking to some other people, a small group of them congregating by the barbecue. 

“Caroline…” Janet tests out on her tongue, willing you to continue. 

“Caroline—Joel’s,” you can’t help but chuckle. “date. I guess.” 

“That bother you?” she says, finishing the bottle of wine while the two of you walk back towards the edge of the pool so she can watch Charlotte and Sarah. 

“Nope,” you say, and it’s not a lie. Sure, it might be a little weird to see another woman clinging to his arm after yesterday. But you know now. And that’s all that matters. 

“Joel can—” you laugh again, “—Joel can do what he likes.” 

Janet stops walking suddenly. You tear your gaze away from Joel and look at her with a confused furrowed brow. 

“Sweetie…” she says with eyes that look way too knowing for your comfort or peace of mind. 

“Janet…?” you say, though her gaze just intensifies. 

“You mean to tell me it happened since I last saw you?”

Your eyes widen, a shocked look crosses your face and you quickly try to replace it with a bad mask of confusion. 

“W-what? I—” 

“Don’t lie to me, doll,” she warns, and she looks like she really means it. 

“Janet…” you say in a not as effective and halfhearted warning tone back. 

“Don’t you dare,” she wags her finger—a final warning. 

What has gotten into you and why can’t you find it in yourself to lie to this woman?

“Don’t te—” she gasps, “Janet, I mean it. Do not tell anyone.” 

She shuts her half open mouth and makes the my lips are sealed motion across her face. You laugh while stealing a glance at Joel. 

“I told you,” she whispers to you in a hush, joining your eyeline towards Joel.

You stay silent for a moment, just taking everything and everyone in—but at the same time just looking at Joel. when you finally break the silence you’re a bit shocked at your question. You’ve never talked about Joel like this with someone who actually knows him. Everything has always been a secret—like you were supposed to be ashamed or something. You never were.  

“How did you know?” you ask, hushed. You’re not sure she’ll even hear you. 

“Would love to say it was intuition, sweetie—but—it was him. It was written all over his face.” 

_

You stayed with Janet for the better portion of the hour, all through silent peaks at your phone to see if Tommy had texted you. When it was getting to the point where people were getting curious, you’ve just about had your limit. 

You approach Joel quickly, you don’t miss Caroline’s stunned face but you really can’t be bothered with—that—right now. 

“Joel?” you ask, pulling at his arm a bit, he excuses himself from the group and follows you towards the backyard's edge. 

“Where the hell is your brother?” you whisper.

“He’s not here?” he asks, the same hushed tone also pushing through his voice at your question. 

“No! I called him, but he’s not responding,” you pipe back while pulling out your phone. Though the lack of notifications from Tommy—just as before—tells you enough. 

You both look at each other for a fleeting second. But the same worried look is probably etched on both your faces — fuck. 

“This fuckin’ guy,��� Joel mutters under his breath while pulling out his own phone and then putting it up to his ear. 

You pace around the small area you and Joel are in, observing the unfamiliar faces. 

“Nothin’,” Joel grovels, taking a peak over the fence towards the street to see if Tommy's truck has pulled up. “I’ll try ‘im again — just — you should mingle,” he says, still looking down at his phone. 

“‘S fine. I don’t really know anyone here anyways,” you say absentmindedly, looking through your phone for Tommy’s contact and putting your phone up to your ear. 

You hear yelling and shouting from the entrance to the backyard. You slowly lift your head, reluctant to tear your eyes away from frantic texts. 

You spot him, in all his glory. Tommy Miller. Two hours late to his own birthday party—though he looks like he couldn’t care less, hugging old friends and new ones. He spots your eyes in the crowd and you can’t even be bothered to smile, a frown is almost permanently placed on your face—Late to your own birthday party? 

He nods his head toward the house, a silent invitation to talk when he’s done greeting the guests. You nod back and turn to Joel, Tommy turns to everyone else. 

“He’s here,” you say, pulling Joel out of his own phone, he does a double take towards the entrance and huffs out a groan. 

“Goddamn idiot,” Joel says, running his palm over his eyebrow. 

“I’m gonna go—” you say, nodding towards the house, towards Tommy. 

“Yeah. Alright,” he replies, though he looks a bit concerned and unfocused, looking towards Tommy, then back to you, “You need me, ‘m there.”

“‘M not telling him about us on his birthday and It’s Tommy, Joel.” 

Tommy—harmless. 

Though Joel’s look sends a sweat to your palms for some reason. You don’t know why he’s worried. 

It’s Tommy. It’s fine. 

Right? 

You hope as much as you make your way through the crowd. You beeline for the house and slip past the sliding doors into the kitchen where cups and bags of chips lay open and equally sprawled. 

You can hear the door slide open and shut again behind you as you try and salvage the mess. 

“Baby,” Tommy says, rounding the corner and coming close to you, “‘M sorry. The concrete guy was supposed to drop off the shipment tomorrow but he came today and needed a signature—” 

“Tommy, it’s okay,” you almost have to will yourself to say. You also have to remember it’s his birthday. 

He looks down. 

“‘S okay. It’s your birthday. Happy birthday,” you reassure with a small smile. 

“Looks great out there,” he says, fiddling with his phone in his hand. 

“Thanks.” 

You’re suddenly a bit nervous. You hadn’t really thought about everything that had happened when Tommy being late to his own birthday party was blanketing all the drama. But he’s here now, and you have no idea what to say. Maybe it would be better to not say anything at all—not address the fact that he asked you out, or you and Joel. But that guilty gnawing feeling eats you alive the longer you stand in silence. 

“Joel helped you?” 

“Yeah. I went shopping yesterday and dropped off the stuff here then we set it up this morning,” you say, nodding towards the backyard and then your car parked out front. 

“You went shopping on your own?” he almost sounds offended. 

“I wanted to go on my own.” 

Tommy doesn't look convinced. 

“Really, T. ‘S fine,” you brush off, leaning back against the kitchen counter and crossing your arms. He stares at you from the other side of the kitchen. 

“Caroline here?” he asks, a hesitant look on his face as he switches from looking at the ground to your face—almost like he’s looking for a reaction. 

“She’s out there somewhere,” you nod, keeping a neutral face masked with a small smile. “You should mingle. Just wanted to make sure everything was alright.” 

But he doesn’t move, he just keeps fiddling with the case on his phone again, looking down to the floor—his feet. 

“I— you said you wanted to talk in person.” 

Shit. 

You both look at each other, waiting. A game of cat and mouse. 

“It can wait, T. Enjoy your party,” you say, gesturing to the crowd outside. 

“Is it about—is it about what happened Friday?” 

“Tommy,” you say, almost warningly. This situation is shitty enough as is. You really don’t want to spoil everything—even if there’s nothing left to spoil. 

He doesn’t say anything. His thumb fiddling with his phone is the only sound coming from inside the kitchen. He looks at you, waiting for you to continue. Almost unbearable. You crack way quicker than you’d hope to last. 

If he wants it like this, at his own birthday party, then so be it. 

“Fine. I just—I wanted to…” you scramble for words but they jumble in your mind. 

“I’m—” you fall short again. “About what you said. What you asked me. I don’t think that it’s…something I want. I’m—sorry.” 

“You don’t think it’s something you want? Or you know that—” 

“Tommy,” you say, giving him an awkward stifled laugh. Like he’s being childish with his response. Because he is. “I don’t—I’m sorry.”

He turns away from you suddenly, towards the window above the sink and just stares at it for a long time. You can see his chest puffing. When he finally turns back around, it’s different. It’s the Tommy you know. 

“‘S okay,” He says. 

Maybe he’ll get over it quickly—you hope. 

“Are you okay? I’m—I mean I hope that this doesn’t change anything since I’m still gonna be around—” you lift your arm up to run a ragged hand across your forehead and through your hair, you don’t even notice that your shirt riding up, “— I just don’t want it to like—” 

“What is that?” 

Your eyes snap to Tommy’s, confused. You think he might be looking out the window again but his eyes trail to you, but lower. Like he’s looking at your hips—because he is. You’re still confused for a second, before examining your shirt, looking for stains or anything out of the ordinary. But you don’t find anything, your top spotless. 

“What? I don’t—” 

“No—” he takes a couple quick steps forward, into your space, you try to find his eyes—yours blown out with confusion and shock but his are trained and laser focused to your waistline. 

“What’s—” he tries to pull up your shirt, you shove him back out of reflex. “You’re hurt, what happened t’you?” 

He almost pins down your hands to see your skin under your shirt, dipping his head to look at your waist and hips and you suddenly know. You know there are hand shaped bruises littered across the skin of your waist, turning it deep purple. Handprints that match Joel’s exactly—almost like they’re burned into you. You saw it this morning. It’s why you didn’t bother to put on a swimsuit and decided to keep a top on instead. 

What’s even worse is you know Tommy saw it too. 

“Tommy!” you’re yelling now, fighting his grip. 

You slip up, unable to get a good hold on his wrist like he now has on yours and he pushes the shirt up to reveal the bruises. 

“What the hell is that?” 

“Fucking—get off!” he backs away with your second shove, a different kind of look on his face. “Jesus,” you huff out, yanking your shirt back down. 

You both stand there. A pregnant silence between you. You can almost hear the gears turning, he stares blankly. Putting it all together. Like maybe you’re not hurt, but you wanted it—wanted it from another man. Somewhere in the back of his mind he might keep wishing someone hurt you so he didn’t have to feel so betrayed. So when he asks, it’s like he doesn’t want to admit that it’s true—the quiet possibility of someone else in the picture. 

“Who,” he says slowly, pointing down to your waist, “did that?”

“Tommy—” you say, but footsteps cut you off, you both turn your head to the entrance of the kitchen as Joel rounds the corner. He looks out of breath and his eyes flicker from Tommy and his finger pointing down at your waist then back to you. 

“We alright in here?” Joel stands, hesitant, his fingers play with the bottom hem of his shirt in an anxious way. Like he doesn't know what he’s just walked in on—you’re not entirely sure you know the answer to that either. You aren’t sure if he’s talking to you or Tommy so you stay silent, waiting for the man in front of you to respond. 

“Yup,” Tommy replies, too angry to be believable. 

Joel looks at you but he doesn’t say anything. Not out loud. 

No. You try to say with your eyes. We are definitely not alright in here. 

“What’s goin’ on?” Joel says, almost a whisper. You’re still not sure if he’s talking to you or Tommy. You can't take your eyes off Tommy’s gaze. From the looks of it, Joel’s question makes Tommy more angry and way more confused. 

“Joel,” you say, trying to look for any indication in Tommy’s face that he’s not going to go bat shit crazy. “‘S fine. We’re okay.” 

But Joel doesn’t listen. Because he’s Joel Miller and maybe you can’t see it right now, but you can hear the concern dripping off his tone—an indication that he won’t ever leave. Not now. So he stalks towards you both and you try to shake your head no, and he doesn’t listen. 

He stands beside you, putting a flat sprawled palm on Tommy’s chest and silently tries to push him backward. But Tommy breaks first, pushing Joel’s hand off him, staggering back while looking at you and Joel.

And maybe he gets it then, you think. Because Tommy lets out a deep chuckle—like you’ve got clown makeup on. Like he’s never seen anything more funny. He’s a lot of things but he is not fucking stupid. So he looks past Joel to your eyes. To your face, almost covered—ridden—in guilt and he can see everything. 

“Really?” Tommy says, not sparing Joel a glance. 

“You put your fuckin’ hands on her?” Tommy says, almost at a whisper which makes it all the more intimidating. You can see Joel’s back puff, his anger rising. But you also know Joel would never hurt his brother. Not on purpose.

But you’re scared. You’re really fucking scared in this moment because Tommy is entirely too worked up and you know whatever excuse Joel is going to say won’t help. 

“Easy,” Joel says, his voice cutting through the tense silence. 

You’re sweating. The hot summer of July in Austin getting to you. They stare at each other for a long time. Like at the kitchen table, like when you all first met. But this time, Tommy breaks, and his eyes flicker to yours, he takes a tiny step to the side so he can see you better. 

“Is this why? Is this why you’re fuckin’—jesus, fuck. ‘S this why he went to get you a tire?” you stand, you can’t really say anything, your stunned figure doesn’t move.  

“He hurt you,” Tommy breathes out, his voice almost breaking if he wasn’t so angry. You shake your head. 

You both know that the bruises aren’t from hurt. That they’re far from it. 

“He didn’t,” you reply. 

“No, no, baby. He’s—you’re—” Tommy almost looks like he can’t believe it, shaking his head, switching between you and Joel. The look you give him shuts him up, and makes him back away, until Joel unclenches his fists and relaxes his shoulder a fraction. 

“I didn’t really want to tell you like this, I was—” 

“Fucking my brother?” he bites back, interrupting you. 

That makes you a bit mad. You’re not in love with his attitude, nor his tone. It’s not like he has any right. It’s not like either of them do. 

Joel moves to speak but you do it first. 

“Don’t give me that,” you say, almost laughing, though the situation is not funny, not in the slightest. “We’re not dating, Tommy. We never were.” 

Caroline strides in at that, looking at the scene unfolding in the kitchen. She stops short of the three of you, her mouth slightly agape. You roll your eyes, fucking perfect. Let’s just bring the party in here instead. You’ll give it to the woman. She has impeccable timing.

“Needed some napkins…” she trails off, holding the empty napkin stand in her right hand up so everyone can see. “I—I can come back.”

“Did you know?” Tommy turns to her, gesturing to you and Joel. 

“Tommy,” Joel says from in front of you, a warning. Tommy ignores him. 

“Did you know?” he asks again, Caroline stares back shocked. But she does consider it, rolls the idea around in her head before speaking. 

“Them two?” Tommy nods. “Her?” 

Okay. You really don’t love that tone. You silently chastise yourself for thinking she was nice at the bar when your first instinct was that she was a bitch—because she is. You were waiting for her snarky undertones or spoiled takes to show. You knew it was coming, you just didn’t know when. 

“No, ‘f couse not.” She’s almost laughing, like it could never be possible. It hits you harder than you’ll ever admit. “She’s — you’re…young,” she says, looking at you. 

Tommy gestures to you and Joel like he’s saying, well believe it, because it’s true.

Joel moves faster than you can comprehend. He’s got a tight grip on Tommy’s arm. He probably doesn’t even have to say anything, Tommy knows what’s happening. But Joel warns him anyway—again. 

“Quit,” he growls. You’d guess this might be the point where Tommy usually backs down. But this situation is far from usual. 

“Or what?” Tommy bites back. When Joel doesn’t respond he continues. “You gonna mark me up? Leave me all black and blue?” 

Tommy doesn’t stop there, you try to move past Joel but he stops you, turns his head to you slightly, a hardened look in his eye.

“Oh, I forgot you’d probably like that, huh?” 

Joel remains frozen for a couple fleeting seconds before whipping around and pushing Tommy into the back counter. You’re rooted to your place, you don’t even care that Caroline is still in the corner, holding the fucking napkin holder in the air. 

“What’d you say?” Joel barks in Tommy’s face. 

“Look at her fuckin’ stomach, dude!” Tommy throws the words in his face, pushing him back slightly and making a vague gesture in your direction, it causes your feet to move towards the brothers before you can think. 

Joel backs off then, sneaking a tiny glance at you out of the corner of his eye, like he really is thinking about the marks he left on your waist. He had seen them this morning, ran his fingers over them too, and saw how the notches matched the curves of his fingers perfectly. But you kissed him, and told him it was okay. That it was more than okay. Maybe even whispered that you liked it between muffled groans. So when a glint of guilt flashes in his eyes it makes your heart break more than it already has. 

“She said no,” Joel says, looking back at Tommy. A tense silence follows—like you’re not sure if Joel is going to continue or Tommy is going to bite back.

“Get back to your party,” Joel growls after a while. You bite your lip.

Tommy looks at Joel with unwavering eyes. His glance turns towards the window where he can see the bustling crowd—can almost hear the laughter. Then he looks down to his hand, outstretches it, undoes his gnarly fist, and when it curls back up again, you finally bite. 

“Tommy!” you say, moving closer. But it’s too late. Joel’s figure knocks to the side and his hand instinctively grabs his face, his nose, his eye. Maybe the worst part about it all is that Joel doesn’t even look remotely surprised, or that he wants to fight back—he just stays there, a little hunched over when you yelp in shock and Tommy groans, shaking out a now bruised fist. 

“Fuck,” you almost yell, your body doesn’t know what to do between bending down to see Joel’s face and looking at Tommy—at his face—because you don’t recognize him. 

Joel almost huffs out a laugh, and to shut him up, to get him to bite his tongue, you speak again. 

“Okay. We’re done here,” you say, pushing Joel towards the entrance of the house, towards your car. 

And Caroline is there, pushing Tommy towards the couches and for the first time, you’re grateful for her. 

_

The ride back to your house is silent after a short and quick bicker about who can drive. You think Joel might want to sit in the driver's seat so you can’t see the quickly forming bruises on the left side of his face but you make a decent argument, enough to settle him in the passengers—looking out the window. 

You send Janet a quick text, asking if she can watch Sarah for a few hours. Brother emergency. Janet replies back and says the girls haven’t gotten out of the pool since you left. It makes you smile a bit, despite it all. 

When you park in your driveway, you hop out quickly, Joel following closely behind. He waits there, right behind you, when you pull out your house keys, and waits when you unlock the deadbolt and waits when you push through the door. 

“Make yourself at home,” you say, nodding towards the couches and dropping your keys in the bowl. 

You disappear into the kitchen and brace your arms on the counter, your head hanging between your shoulders. You let out a deep, ragged breath and try to control your heartbeat. 

“Fuck,” you mumble, shaking out your wrists, grabbing two advil from the bottle on your counter, a glass of water, and peas from freezer.  

Joel’s sitting on the loveseat, looking down at his hands. You don’t say anything. He doesn’t either. He just takes the water and pills from your hands and swallows it silently. You extend the peas to him, he thinks about it for a while and when you shake them again, huffing, saying—just fucking take them. He finally obliges. 

You get a good look at his cheek when he turns to set the water down on the table and you have to stop yourself from gasping. 

“Joel,” you murmur, reaching for him, bending down, he stops you, grabs your wrist, then grabs your hand. But he’s gentle. Not like Tommy. Joel’s gentle. 

“‘S fine,” he says, and winces when the peas touch his face. “‘M fine.”

You settle in between his legs, looking down at him. He’s got one hand on his face, holding the peas, and the other, wrapped around the back of your thigh. He doesn’t even want to look up at you. It breaks your heart. 

“‘M sorry,” you say quietly, his hand on your thigh trails upward. He plays with the hem of your shirt and lifts it enough to take a peek at the purple that lies there. 

He doesn’t say anything, just sits there, running a gentle, ghost-like touch across the bruises. 

“He — saw it. I don’t…” you look down to your stomach. You can see the shape of his fingertips so clearly. It’s no wonder Tommy reacted how he did. “It was an accident.”

He doesn’t nod. Doesn’t shake his head. He tosses the peas onto the table and pushes the cotton of your shirt up further, to where he can see all of it—all the black and blue there. 

“Are you mad?” you whisper, hesitantly, as he stares at his own hands, his own branding. 

“‘M sorry,” he mumbles. 

“Don’t be,” you say, begging, “Please.”

“He did that cause—,” you breathe out, taking his chin in your pointer finger and thumb and getting your first good look at his cheek, “—it’s-’s my fault, I should’ve—”

“C’mon. Don’t do that,” he says, cutting you off, nipping your apology in the bud, “I should be the one who’s sorry, this is — I hurt you.” 

You shake your head. 

“You know that’s not—you know that I—” you stifle a short chuckle. 

“That you what?”

You let out a couple hot breaths, looking down at him, the purple around his eye slowly taking shape. 

“That I liked it.” 

Joel bends forward then, and you gasp. The dull scratch of his beard is the only thing keeping your eyes open. He trails his hot breath across your stomach, and leaves gentle kisses on your sides, on your bruises.

“Joel,” you mumble, and you hate how your voice sounds so breathy, maybe even desperate. You tangle your hands in his hair, grasping at the nape of his neck he pulls you down, closer, so you’re slotted in his lap, straddling him. Joel pulls back and looks at your face, brushes the fallen hair from your eyes. 

“I meant what I said,” you start, he furrows his brow, “Still—mean it.”

From the look in his eyes he knows what you’re talking about. The words you slipped into his ear last night.

‘S you, Joel — it’s-’s always been you.

“But if this is—if Tommy—” you cut yourself off, correcting your words, “If I messed it up—” 

“Sweetheart,” he says. Your heart pulls, you almost put your hand on his cheek, but you see the rising skin and settle for his shoulder. “‘M not goin’ anywhere.” 

“Are you sure?” 

He pulls you down further, so you’re flush against him. He studies your eyes and rubs at your waist, your hips. It sends a little fire down between your thighs. 

“‘M here—‘M…I’m right here,” he mumbles, and shakes his head. Like he’s telling you no to any silent thoughts of doubt that might be floating around your head. 

And then he pulls your head down to kiss you. 

It’s needy, and hot and everything you want at this moment. He’s everywhere and you can feel his growing arousal between your legs. You both needed this—you think. After everything, after—fucking—Caroline and Janet Baker and Tommy Miller. You both needed each other so bad that when you grind down onto him he lets out a little desperate groan into your mouth that spurs you on. 

Joel slips his hand under your shirt and finds the hardened peak there. He pinches it and rolls it between his fingers, it sends your hips forward and suddenly he’s sitting up, and shucking your shirt off. 

He grabs your hips and moves you against him, your most vulnerable spots grinding against each other. Giving you both blown out eyes and puffy lips and panting breath. 

“Sh–it,” you gasp when your shorts catch on your clit perfectly. 

“Pretty,” he says, grasping at your tits, at anything he can find while you grind against his length. “fuckin’—pretty like this.”

You claw at his belt and before you know it, he’s lifting you up so you’re on your knees and he’s pulling his pants past his hips. You get the memo and take your shorts off, tossing them behind you. When you sink back down onto his lap, you can feel his cock slip between your wet lips down there. 

“Fuck, Joel,” you say, gliding along his cock, soaking it. You can feel all of him now—grinding along his hardness—the girth of him fitting perfectly between your swollen lips. 

“Angel,” Joel pants out, through sloppy kisses. You look at him. He’s got a desperate look on his face. Like he couldn’t wait just like you. Not even to get upstairs to your bedroom or to get all his clothes off. Like he’s been wanting this all day. Just like you. 

You move up and reach down, feeling the wet mess you’ve both made down between your legs. You find his cock, hard and wanting, and position it at your entrance. The head sinks past your walls, enveloping it somewhere deeper and you both groan at the feeling. 

You sink down on him slowly, you’re by no means physically ready to take him. But you can’t wait any longer. He kisses you, and down to your neck, making it easier to ease yourself down onto him, and when you finally reach the end, and you’re seated fully in his lap, you both gasp. 

Your walls clench around him, eliciting a quiet groan from Joel somewhere near your neck. Your eyes roll back in your head, your forehead drops onto his shoulder. You both just sit there, waiting for the other to make a move. 

It’s kind of like a game. 

See how long you can both relish in each other’s warmth — the first person who moves loses. 

Your walls tighten again and he lets out another groan, “Jesus,” he mumbles, nipping at your neck. You’re slowly adjusting to him, relaxing around him. It makes you shudder. 

You realize he’s not really touching you. He’s got his hands on your thighs, but they’re just resting there. Not squeezing or gripping your hips like you know he so desperately wants. Maybe he’s scared, you think. From everything that’s happened today. From the consequences his touch barred. 

But you didn’t care about the consequences. You liked his touch, needed his touch, just as much as he needed something to hold him back down to earth, anchor him to you—in you. And afterall, you just want him to feel good. Feel better. 

“Touch me,” you gasp out, reaching down to his hands. 

“Am touchin’ you,” he forces out, panting near your ear. His thumb absentmindedly pushes down on the skin of your thigh a fraction harder and then eases up, like he’s saying this is the best I can do. 

“No, Joel,” you moan, rock your hips a little, moving first, moving frantically and suddenly, “touch me,” you say into his neck, reaching down to usher his hands to your hips, your waist, you. 

Joel gets it then, the silent permission. The it’s okay, and grips you harder, but not as hard as you know he would like. It’s good enough for you because he moves your hips, rocking you up and down onto his length—having enough of the senseless grinding. 

“Fuckin’ good—” Joel groans, your hands fly to his shoulders, his hair. “You feel good.” 

Your legs grow tired, he can tell. You try your best, but you’re sweaty and tired and fucked out, and when he hits a spot deeper inside you that makes you moan out, louder than before, and you almost collapse onto him. He ruts into you a little. Meeting you halfway. Fucking you deeper—maybe even a bit faster. 

Your legs ache and you feel a sheen of sweat wash over both of you. And Joel’s eye is fucked up, his cheek too. Tommy is sitting back at the house—or god knows where—with a possible broken hand, Janet baker is watching Sarah instead of you or Joel, Caroline is still back at the house, and everything is a fucking mess, but it’s so right. He feels so right. He’s — he’s right. 

You’re close then, the coarse hair on him inching you toward your climax. He knows, he can feel it from the inside. You don’t even have to say it this time, your question for his permission. He can see it already braced on your lips but he shuts you up with a kiss, a sloppy one, where he sticks his tongue into your mouth and your walls tighten around him again. 

“Yes,” he says with a moan into your mouth, “yes, yes—ah.”

“Fuck,” you say tightening around him, becoming breathless and boneless, but Joel holds you up. He always does. 

He grips you tighter, like how you know he wanted to, and you relish in the feeling. His thrusts become desperate and you brace yourself on the back of the couch so he can rut up deeper, chasing after his own orgasm. You can’t really breathe. Not when he’s everywhere. 

“Shit,” he says, rocking into you. 

Joel cums hard, holding onto you, wrapping you up in his arms as he groans somewhere near your temple. You let it spread through you, the mess of it all. He keeps you locked in his arms, even when you think he might pull away. 

He finally pulls you off him, when he says it becomes too much and you sit on his lap, playing with his curls. When you both settle from your panting you can’t help but ask.

“What are we gonna do?” you say quietly to him. 

“I dunno,” he grabs your hand and gives it a quick kiss. The bruise on his face is turning an ugly shade of purple. And the peas have gone warm, creating a small puddle on the coffee table. And your phone keeps buzzing from the entryway. 

“We’ll figure it out,” he says, running a hand on your thigh. 

_

taglist! comment or message me if you want to be added. kisses!

@going-to-californiaxx @gintheginger @daddy-din @earthtogrogu @rooney-verse @ratoonstown @skysmiller @pedritosdarling @lovely-ateez @pluzo @spongebobspooploop @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @tsunamistorm123 @awhoreforalotofshows @disassociation-daydreams @violinchick @rhoorl

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[legend-as-old-as-time]

Inspired by @muaka-safari's analysis of Vakama's relation to anger.

My hypothesis: Nokama, while stressed too about fulfilling her duty, has a different core issue in relation to it. Rather than the aspect of fulfilling a command by her leader, she constantly thinks of her behavior. For her, her conduct is part of her duty.

She has to act a certain way. She has to be in a certain way, or she is failing.

Which makes sense. She is a teacher, after all. She has to be a role model for her students. But what if it went deeper than that?

Nokama puts a lot of stock in order, reflecting her Metru and the vahki assigned to this metru: The bordakh. These vahki carry staffs of loyalty that instill uncompromising desire for social order.

Official material depicting in-universe information describes Ga-Metru in a very flattering light. It's the city's spiritual center and said to be favored by Mata Nui himself.

None of the Ga-Metru hold any jobs in terms of repair, manifacturing, or engineering. Matoran from other Metru do these jobs for them. Ga-Metru is privileged.

But like with everything in Metru Nui, this is only one side. The side most would think about first, whether as good or bad. The other one of this reputation means that all ga-matoran must be peaceful, right? They are orderly, spiritual, wise, etc. Otherwise Mata Nui wouldn't love their Metru as much.

Ooof. Of course, some would feel arrogant about that. But mostly, that'd be a lot of pressure. If you're the favorite of the city's most important person - your God - then you have to show it that you're showing reasons why you're the favorite? And keep it up all the time?

I doubt all ga-matoran took it that deeply to heart, but some of them likely did. They have to act responsibly. Among them is Nokama.

Remember what I said farther up in the post that she thinks she has to act in and be a certain way? We see it regularly.

Nokama in the movie and in the movie's novelization [[gave the Po-Matoran a sharp look. “Your negativity pollutes this sanctuary, builder.”]]

She snaps at Matau and tells him they have to take their duties as toa seriously.

She scolds herself after she argues with Vakama in the Archives. Never mind that it's a genuinely stressful situation and the others barely ever consider that they themselves need to make an effort to argue less. In my reading it felt like she deemed it more a moral failing of hers rather than a practical concern?

She tries to mentor Vakama and steer him into the direction of being leader. We're never given a concrete in-universe reason. (Out-of-universe, the writers clearly pushed the fire toa into the leader role.) But maybe Nokama saw it as her duty and responsibility to keep teaching in the one way she could, if she wouldn't teach matoran anymore? (Not to mention that's the only connection to her old life that she still has.)

She asserts that she's a toa in the comics when Nidhiki mocks her, Matau, and Vakama to be overgrown matoran.

Feeling rejected by the Great Temple when she enters it as Toa Hordika deals a heavy blow to her. She feels impure, as if she's longer fit as she is to serve the Great Spirit in his regard.

She has a rage breakdown, yelling that "She's still a toa!"

On the other end, Nokama notably has moments as Toa Hordika, while she's trying to calm down and find stability with Gaaki's help, where she doesn't seem to care about her previous high standards anymore. She feels tempted to give into her hordika side and is much more reckless, less thinking about how she acts as a toa.

She also makes an effective and chaotic team with Matau. As @crystaltoa pointed it out, they both are now "hold my beer" types, while they act about each other as "I can't take you anywhere with me!"

As if the transformation into a hordika beast, which looks nothing like a toa's supposed to, has freed Nokama from a great weight.

(@crystaltoa She might still think back on the Great Temple, however, and wonder if the stain on her from being transformed into a Toa Hordika remains.)

[plumadot]

I have Scarian brain thoughts of at some point (post Scar resurrection)(🤌) Grian and Scar get into a bit of an argument, and Scar is really upset about something and Grian can’t figure out why he’s acting like this, and then finally it bursts out of Scar like “Because I’m nobody!!! My name isn’t even Scar!” And then all the rests spills out and he’s really upset and scared that Grian will hate him and he finishes with “I have no story..”

And theeeennnn Grian reacts not the way Scar expected and says he’s being silly. Even if everything before the Secret Keeper is gone, Scar still has wonderful stories, like all the adventures they’ve had together! “And that time you CAME BACK TO LIFE!” And Grian assures Scar that he doesn’t hate him, and they make up real sweet. After all Grian still has plenty of secrets of his own

Ooof I love them and I ADORE that Scar has an amnesiac backstory, it’s all so good.

-love anon 🍕

mannn i love scarian brain thoughts gkfjdkjg

it's going to be so difficult to come clean about it all sdgfhjkfghd scar knows how much grian values trust, how long it took for them to even reach a friendship where grian felt safe and comfortable with him. of course, grian isn't very willing to share his life story either (he's just that kind of guy) but from what they have talked about scar knows that grian has been alone for a very long time and that there's an anger within him that surely connects to that fact somehow. grian's one of the kindest people scar has met but he's also obviously been hurt. and he doesn't want to add to that by confessing to breaking his trust

so yeah an accidental confession might just fix it all like that! or it will ruin everything! and scar doesn't know if he's ready to find out which one it'll be

[redhairedwolfwitch]

Photograph of A World on Fire (4) - Andy Herrera x DeLuca!Sister!Reader - Station 19/Grey's Anatomy

Summary: The world might be on fire with a pandemic happening, and you and Andy face loss after loss, but the two of you stick together and become even closer through it all.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Request: hey 💓 could you write a deluca!sister x amelia fic where r is a cheeky italian which puts amelia in gay panic mode x

A/n: this diverts from canon like a curly wurly chocolate bar, also mentions a one night stand, there's no smut but it's alluded to, so, read at your own risk, and don't ask me where this happens in canon, because that will give me another headache:) (i gave myself that headache and followed canon slightly... ooof, warning, canon character death incoming)

A/n: to whoever reads this, you are important.

Andy found out her mother was alive, and then three weeks later, a pandemic set the world on fire.

Andy's mother left, and her father told her that her mother had died, rather than her mother had abandoned her due to mental illness.

Your brother and sister were determined to quarantine away from you, and with Andy in a bubble at the firehouse, you were isolated from everyone.

Andy had enlisted herself in distracting herself about her mother by going to an art store, masked up with a list of supplies for you so you could keep making your art from home. Andy didn't know you had gotten out of the car, sitting on the bonnet with your camera, photographing the empty streets.

You didn't know it was the start of one of two projects during the pandemic that would make your career flourish, as you sat in your black attire, watching the funeral of Pruitt Herrera, that due to the pandemic had to be done online. Watching as Andy spoke, you couldn't hide the love in your eyes for this woman. This woman of fire. Your fiamma.

///

Your brother sat on your porch as you sat in the hallway, talking to each other through an open door.

"I found inspiration, for two big projects."

"Two big projects? Wow, that's amazing, angioletta. I hope I get to see them before Carina." Andrew smiled, the pride in his eyes obvious.

"Oh she'd be so mad!" You laughed, remembering the last time Andrew had seen your artwork before Carina did, and how jealous she got despite trying to hide it.

"How's your girlfriend?" Andrew threw you off, almost dropping your snack on the carpet in surprise at his question, but you took a moment before replying.

"She is at a family picnic for the first time in twenty years, and I didn't want to impose y'know. Plus, everyone is so determined to quarantine, I'm isolated from everyone and everything, but my art." You admitted, spotting the sad look on your big brother's face at your confession. You were feeling lonely.

///

"It probably won't help if I tell them that I have a girlfriend too." Andy admitted to her cousin Michelle, whose eyes lit up at Andy's admittance.

"You do? Tell me everything!"

"She's an artist, with two older siblings, who are both doctors, but she is my saving grace in this, this cruel world." Andy confessed, getting her phone out to show her cousin a photo of you, and some photos of your art.

///

Your phone buzzed as Vic sent you a video, getting your brother's attention as you gasped.

"There, there was a tiger, in the firehouse... a tiger... that's not totally terrifying!" forwarding the video to your brother, who checked his phone.

///

Fiamma: you don't have any vagina art, do you?

Cariño: that's more my sister's interior design style...

Cariño: good luck to Maya

///

"You know, on the nights we don't have dinner together. I eat canned green beans for dinner, out of the can." Andy confessed as she watched you stand over the hob, stirring your wooden spoon into something that smelt amazing.

"Fiamma, that's disgusting."

///

Andrew's text sent horror through your body as you read it. He and Carina were following a human trafficker. And nobody was answering their phone. Not Andrew, not Carina, not Andy, and not even Maya. Miranda and Ben weren't answering either, so you ran out of your house, tracking your big sister's phone as you got in your car.

Your brother was good, he was stable, taking his meds, getting sleep. Your sister had moved in with Maya, she was happy as she could be without missing Italy and stressing over your father.

Warren and Maya began to call you as Ben read your message, realising you were going after your big siblings.

///

"Announcement! Uh, Carina and her brother Andrew are... well... they're following one of the kidnappers, and uh, Y/n is going after her siblings apparently so..." Maya nervously explained, about to tell Andy off for hurriedly getting her phone but Warren shook his head.

"Probably going to call Y/n. They're, they're friends."

///

"Carina, Andrew, there's something you should know. Y/n is on her way to you, I'm guessing nobody's kept your little sister in the loop."

"Angioletta? No, she could get hurt. How does she know where we are?" Carina began to panic, hearing what Maya said.

"She's probably tracking our phones." Andrew deadpanned, knowing it was too late to stop you.

///

You knew they were at the Seattle Transit Station, running as you spotted Carina heading through the doors of the station. Speed-walking after your siblings, you barely made it onto the train before the doors shut, quickly making your way up the carriage until you landed in the seat next to Andrew, sandwiching him in the middle of you and Carina.

"What are you doing-"

"You both scared me. Plus nobody knows who I am so..." you trailed off, whispering in Italian to obscure your words to any non-Italian speakers.

The three of you watched as another passenger stood up and moved away from the three of you.

"My first time being profiled as an Italian."

///

"Stay back, angioletta." Carina whispered, as your siblings stood up to follow the human trafficker off of the train.

"Go find Ben and the police, I'm not losing her again." Andrew instructed, leaving Carina to nod and get out her phone. That was Carina's mistake as she took her eyes off of you, who ran after her big brother like she did when she was a toddler.

But Carina lost sight of you both, stuck rallying the first responders. She didn't see what you saw. The man barge into your big brother, and stab him.

"NO! Help! Help! Call 911!" You screamed loud enough that Carina heard you, hurrying over to see you putting pressure on a stab wound. A stab wound in your big brother's chest.

"We're here, we're here!" you sobbed, as Warren got your brother on a gurney, Maya holding back Carina as you curled up on the floor, hands covered in your brother's blood.

Carina cleaned your hands as you sat numbly in the back of the aid car, Maya and Ben treating your brother, and Carina recalling songs from your childhoods to soothe your brother's pain.

///

Sitting in the Grey Sloan outdoor waiting room, you were numb as you saw the look in the approaching doctor's eyes.

Your brother was dead.

///

In grieving, Carina shut down, but you threw yourself into your art projects. Carina had Maya to keep an eye on her, but you...

Andy was there for you. Andy was there when you didn't sleep at night, staring at a blank canvas until you started to paint, she sat and watched you. You didn't want to talk, your big brother was your lifeline.

"Okay, I know your French toast is better, and so is Carina's, but it's the only thing I know how to make for breakfast." Andy explained, bringing a tray into your spare room aka your art room at this point.

"Looks delicious." You managed to smile, but Andy was taken off guard as you pulled her into a hug, burying your face in her neck and not letting go.

"I'm acting captain today... are you sure you'll be okay alone?" Andy asked, her fingernails running gently over your scalp as she cradled your head.

"I have food and water. I just want to paint my grief, because I don't know how else to express it. Talking doesn't work, talking makes me miss him, even if he's with our mama now." You replied, but Andy saw the look on your face when you spotted the red paint on the palette. She didn't see how it reminded you of your brother's blood on your hands as you sat in the aid car, numb and hoping it wasn't his time.

Your siblings may have called you angioletta, little angel, but your brother was the angel among you now.

Your mother called Andrew and Carina two halves of a whole, but you needed both of them. You were away from Carina for so long growing up, all you had was your brother.

Now he was gone, Carina was stuck with the paperwork, and you buried yourself in your art. Minus any red paint, which Andy had removed after seeing the far away look on your face at the sight of it.

///

Carina called you hours later, asking if you had spoken to your father at all. You hadn't, but somehow he had heard two days ago that your brother died, and he didn't call either of you.

Andy found you sitting on your porch on her return home, in the spot where your brother had once sat, with a portfolio she hadn't seen before in your hands.

"Andrew was supposed to be the first person to see my projects, but he's..." you trailed off, opening the first page to reveal the photographs you had taken of empty Seattle streets.

"I've never seen Seattle so empty."

"Exactly." You let out a wet chuckle, holding back your tears until Andy met your gaze with a faltering smile at your crying.

///

Maya Bishop: A Doctor Gabriella Aurora just turned up here

Y/n DeLuca: you'll be okay, it's been a long time since medical school, trust me.

Maya Bishop: Come over and help me?

Y/n DeLuca: i'm having dinner with my girlfriend tonight. i'm cooking too.

Maya Bishop: Girlfriend?

*left on read 4:21pm*

///

"You know your sister has a girlfriend?" Maya enquired as she walked through the Grey Sloan car park with Carina, hand in hand.

"I assumed she had someone living with her. She had two mugs out when I surprised her one morning, and someone gave her a neck bruise."

"A hickey?" Maya raised an eyebrow, wondering how long you and whoever it was had been dating.

"Yes, a hickey. My sister is not a fan of double dates though." Carina added before Maya could get any ideas.

///

"I still haven't met your girlfriend. I even met your ex-roommate before I met her." Andy's cousin Michelle pointed out, after pointing out how Andy had gone to every barbecue and not brought you with her.

"My girlfriend lost her brother and her sister is very protective and doesn't want her getting the virus... and we still haven't told her sister we're dating, or that I moved in so..." Andy trailed off as Michelle's eyes widened.

"Oh so it's serious?"

"She's my saving grace."

///

"My visa expires next month." Carina explained to you, making you flinch. You and Andrew had citizenship, but Carina was here on a visa for her study.

"You have to go back to Italy? They shut down the immigration offices... Carina..."

"Angioletta..." Carina whispered, letting out a squeak as you pulled her into a tight hug, fear setting in that you would lose the only family you had left in America.

///

Carina and Maya were unaware of how well you really knew Andy, until it came to your brother's memorial in the Grey Sloan car park.

Amelia wasn't there, even if she had mentored your brother for a time. You hadn't thought of the neurosurgeon in a long time, having removed all traces of her from your portfolio, your life and your memory.

Whilst Maya held Carina in the car park, you sat on the ground, holding your knees to your chest until arms wrapped around you, and Andy was almost cooing in Spanish, calming you as you clung to her, mask soaked with tears.

Neither of them had any time to judge, but both were unaware you and Andy really knew each other as more than friends. Any assumption they had was wrong. Andy and yourself were well acquainted.

You didn't hide your relationship with Andy. She was at the firehouse a lot, not wanting to bring covid home back to you, since Maya and Carina were further along in their relationship and when Andy had moved in with you, she tried her best to keep you safe.

Everyone wanted to protect you, but they were isolating themselves from you to try keep you safe.

One of your art projects had been inspired by frontline workers, gaining attention online as people wanted to buy the works, the money going to charities to support people during the pandemic... you were flourishing, and your big brother couldn't see it from anywhere but above, whilst your sister and your girlfriend could see it, and you, but chose not to as often.

Your second project reflected another side to the pandemic, photography of the empty streets, void of all life. Almost apocalyptic in a sense.

Andy spent more time with you than Carina did, but you and your sister handled grief differently.

The fire between you and Andy burned brighter than anything else. An eternal flame.

"What are you painting this time? Is that a heart on fire?" Andy peeked over your shoulder, her chin resting on it as her hands hovered over your waist, hesitant to touch in case she messed up your brushstrokes.

"It was supposed to be symbolic, fires of love? Eternal flame? I think I'm better at realism... the portraits reflect that." You shrugged, gesturing to the paintings on the other side of the room.

"You are the sweetest but your sister and Maya should be here in an hour, and you are wearing more paint than clothes." Andy pointed out, her eyes widening as you smirked, walking backwards to guide her to the shower.

"Maybe you should join me, to make sure I get all the paint off."

"I would like that very much, but we need to-" Andy began to point out the lack of time, but you shushed her as you leaned in, waiting until she met you halfway, the hour countdown until Maya and Carina's arrival forgotten about...

///

[lunastrophe]

To be half drow. Ooof Lolth isn’t too fond of them and her Drow don’t like them.

That is correct - most half-drow in Lolth-sworn drow societies lead precarious life and struggle to survive, and even if they manage to avoid the fate of slaves and build a career, they cannot really hope to be treated as equals.

But some half-drow manage to make a name for themselves, both in the Underdark and on the surface.

I played Icewind Dale 2 recently and I found there a story of an interesting and quite heroic half-drow character: Valas the Black Raven. Valas was born in drow city Rilauven and he was known there as Valas Belaem del Pharm - "Valas, slave of Pharm".

He was a slave of drow House Leun at first, but at some point, when he was still a young adult, House Leun lost him in a bet with rival house and Valas became a slave of House Pharm. He was already known of his strength and normally, any drow house would be hesitant to keep him - since dangerous slaves had a habit of turning against their masters. House Pharm, though, decided to keep him just to spite Leun.

For years Valas fought in the city arena where he developed his unique fighting skills. Ultimately he became the greatest arena champion in Rilauven - for all this time remaining a slave of Pharm.

At some point, Valas managed to free himself. He escaped Rilauven and his cruel masters, fighting his way through the Underdark with his bare hands and with chains that once bound them. When he reached the surface where the Black Raven River spilled from the River Caves in the Spine of the World, he encountered there a group of Black Raven barbarians - they attacked him, but he managed to defeat every one of them.

Barbarians, in awe of his battle prowess and his unusual appearance, took him for an otherworldly being who was sent by gods to teach them humility. Because of his black skin and fiery red eyes, they bestowed upon him the name of Black Raven.

Later Valas travelled, freeing slaves, fighting imprisonment and collecting many followers along the way. Sometime before 1182 DR, he returned to the place where he reached the surface world and founded the Black Raven Monastery there. After his death, his followers carried on his ideals of self-reliance, opposition to slavery and imprisonment, and martial perfection.

[ballet-symphonie]

what's the deal with joy womack ? I got into ballet after the whole scandal at the bolshoi and i've always heard bad things about her but I don't really know the story. Also she apparently lied about her position at POB?

Ooof I'll try to do the quick version based on what I remember, she is basically one drama after another, she tends to...misrepresent information. She left BT after saying she had to pay or even sleep with someone to get soloist parts. This was disputed by some, and confirmed by others.

After she went to work i the Kremlin Ballet Theatre of Moscow, she became a leading soloist with them, despite often calling herself a principal. There was some tension here as she was making vlogs filming class despite her coworkers asking her not to and occasionally sharing some no-so-nice information about her coworkers, things got messy when she divorced her ex and she left, even after she got promoted to principal.

After Kremlin, she won a prize at Varna in 2017, did some unsuccessful company auditions, and did short stints at Universal Ballet in Korea and guesting around Bulgaria and Poland. At one point she was going back Russian State Theatre Arts Ballet Pedagogy and Choreography (GITIS) for higher education in pedagogy. She has repeatedly expressed disdain for both the American and Russian systems, and there is a lot of speculation that this, along with her desire to be a principal *asap* hindered her career.

She was at Boston Ballet for a short period, but didn't like the setup, said she preferred being in Russian/European companies where they provided more individual coaching and often more benefits (housing) and with low layoffs...yet she has also repeatedly complained about the low pay/exchange rate when she was working in Russia. She left here when COVID happened.

After trying a couple of times, I believe she got a "contractuelle" position at POB, where you're generally hired for specific productions (eg, something with a huge corps, or for a specific choreographic nice that a dancer excels in). POB, with its extremely involved hiring and promotion systems/competitions, takes a while to move dancers into the corps sometimes. I'm not sure if she was offered a corps contract and didn't take it, or didn't get one, but regardless, she's no longer working with POB.

And now, if you go to her website she's starting a foundation and a school and company....? This is in addition to her freelancing around and the project prima bars that I think no longer exist and some film work. She's just a lotttttt and does not portray herself as the most self-aware or humble person.

As far as my personal interactions with her go, I know she came to audition at my company before I started my professional career and was not accepted. I took a couple classes with her in NYC by chance, the diva attitude was overtly present.

I didn't do much googling here, of course open to corrections of this mass of speculation

[zepskies]

Writer Tag

Thank you so much for tagging me @venus-haze! As always, your responses on this were really interesting and got me thinking about my answers. (Here's the original post.)

So these first questions are geared toward Ao3 stories.

How many works do you have on AO3? 48 and counting.

What's your total AO3 word count? Aw geez. According to the statistics page, 1,022,400.

(But I have more fics listed in Tumblr thanks to headcanons and things not yet posted in Ao3.)

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Every Loyalty - (Jon Snow x OC)

And So It Goes - (Butcher x OC)

Never Say Goodbye - (Dean Winchester x Reader)

Break Me Down - (OC Version | Soldier Boy x OC)

Checkerboard - (Soldier Boy x Reader)

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? Yes! Always. I love getting feedback and engaging with the people who take the time to read my work. 💜

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending? Ooh, it's gotta be this imagine in SPN fandom: "Sam crosses the line." In which he's in love with Dean's girlfriend.

(Sequel to "You are Dean's one exception.")

What the fic you've written with the happiest ending? Well, most of my stories have happy endings. But probably Never Say Goodbye (Dean W. x Reader). It's a soulmate AU, so very rom-com and fluffy, despite all the drama they went through.

Though I could also say the same of the last story in the Midnight Espresso-verse: In Bad Weather.

Do you write crossovers? No, I don't. I've enjoyed reading a few though.

Have you ever received hate on a fic? Yes, unfortunately lol. It's inevitable for as long as I've been writing though.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Oh yes lol. I'm a romantic though, so it's often a mix of fluff, straight up romance, occasionally dashed with angst and/or hurt/comfort.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not to my knowledge. (I hope not!)

Have you ever had a fic translated? Nope, but I've received solicitations lol.

Have you ever co-written a fic before? Yeah, when I was a teenager just starting out writing, I used to write with one of my best friends growing up. (We're still good friends to this day.)

What's your all-time favorite ship? That's pretty much impossible. 🤣 It depends on the fandom! Nowadays I tend to write for OCs or reader inserts though.

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will? Ooof, nothing recent. But I finally finished And So It Goes, which took me 3 years for some reason. 🙃

Though I do have both a Jason Teague x OC series and a Smallville Clark Kent x OC series outlined that realistically, I probably won't get to. 💔

What are your writing strengths? I've been told I'm good at dialogue and keeping canon characters in character, which is always amazing to hear! I try my best.

What are your writing weaknesses? Action scenes and smut scenes are my biggest writing challenges, though I've been told I do a decent job at them. I know I tend to use adverbs a lot lol (I'm trying to curb that).

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? So I try to minimize use of this, but, I've gotten critiqued (putting it mildly) on this before for two reasons. Admittedly, I've had to revise myself in certain use cases, but also, there are slang words and phrases in certain Spanish cultures that wouldn't make sense to another Hispanic/Latino culture that doesn't use the word/phrase. So sometimes, it's not that it's wrong grammatically, but that it's slang.

What was the first fandom you wrote for? Oh jeezus, probably Chronicles of Narnia fandom when I was like, 10 and brand new to writing. 😂

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to? Ooh a tough one. I feel like there are so many! I do have a story I had outline years ago now for Steve Rogers/Captain America back in the MCU fandom (which I've written in before). But that fandom is a bit intimidating. 😂

What's your favorite fic you've written? Also really tough for me. I think it's a tie between two series:

Break Me Down (Soldier Boy x Reader)

Midnight Espresso (Dean W. x Plus-Sized Latina!Reader)

One totally took me by surprise by how much I enjoyed writing the series and the characters (and figuring out how to write Soldier Boy/Ben 😂).

While the other allowed me to be a little more indulgent with myself, writing from my personal experience and my culture.

The responses on both stories have been amazing and incredibly heartwarming. 💗

No pressure tags:

@thatonewriter15 @waywardxwords @impala-dreamer @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior @deanwritings @deanwinchesterswitch @deanbrainrotwritings @kaleldobrev -- and whoever else wants to join! 💜

[my-soupy-brain]

showering with ted (don’t mind me, I’m just thinking about how he’d giggle as I scrub him down)

I don't think the collective Ted-heads have forgotten that man in a shower. I know I haven't. Showering with Ted would be such a treat. A) Sexy, sure but B) Doting on him and giggling and smiling and touching... *stares off into distance* OK, Let's gooooo!

---

Relationship: Ted Lasso x reader

Warnings: Light smut

---

You hadn't intended to get stuck in a rainstorm in London with Ted, but the warm summer showers felt good, and running in the rain was more fun than you wanted to admit.

Until you both slid through Richmond Green into a big mud puddle. You started sliding and by knee-jerk reaction, took Ted's hand and brought him down with you.

A big puddle of mud. That's where you found yourself. Laughing yourselves to tears.

You splashed first, coating Ted's sweater in mud. He splashed back, getting you goo, your face dripping with the brown muddy sludge. You looked like two pigs on a farm.

People gawked at the two of you having the time of your life before you decided to get up and head to Ted's apartment, leaving quickly washed-away footprints on the concrete.

In Ted's landing, he's got a towel nearby, letting the both of you wipe yourselves off before stripping your clothes and tiptoeing to the bathroom.

Without a question, you finish removing your bra and panties, hopping in the shower, and holding out your hand to Ted. He blushes and looks around.

"Together?"

You've been intimate already, seen each other's bodies. But you've not done this.

"Save water, sweetheart, c'mon," you encourage with a glint in your eye.

Ted removes his boxer briefs, blushing harder, as you step under the spray. You soap up your hands with shampoo and start running them through his hair. His big, hazel eyes close gently and he smiles.

"Good, honey?" you ask, snickering at his reaction.

"Heck yes, feels like I'm bein' pampered," he replies, popping one eye open. You can't help but lean in to kiss the dimple on his cheek.

Your hands work some soap in a loofah, scrubbing down his arms and his chest, and he giggles.

"Tickles," he says, a goofy chuckle coming from his lips. You kneel in front of him as you scrub down his legs and he looks at you with a wink.

"Whatcha doin' down there, sweetpea," he asks, his body naturally getting aroused at the sight.

"Wouldn't you like to know, Mr. Lasso," you joke, winking at him.

When you return to stand, he's already soaping up his hands to take care of you. He runs his fingers through your hair and you sigh at how good it feels. His hands run down your shoulders, your back, over the arch of your back and the curve of your ass.

"Mmmm..." you hear him rumble behind you, making you blush and smile.

His hands work down the dip of your waist and you can't help but moan at the feeling under the hot water.

"How's that, honey?" he asks low and husky in your ear. "That feel good?" All you can do is nod as you lean your head back on his chest, making him smile as his hands continue to travel your torso, to your breasts.

Ted lets out a growl as he does this, his arousal evident against your backside. His mustached mouth kisses your shoulder, then your neck, then your ear.

You moan, taking a deep breath. "We need to finish this shower, sweetie."

"Hmm? Why's that, sugar?" he asks, his lips still peppering kisses on your skin, his hands roaming up and down your curves.

"Because I'm weak in the knees and we need a bed," you answer, making him groan.

In minutes you're in your towels, which get quickly discarded in favor of your sheets.

---

OK so it did get a little smutty. Ted would LOVE a shower with you though. Ooof. Being pampered?! SOMEONE PAMPER THAT MAN DAMMIT.

[rubykgrant]

It has been 3 years since I had the weird rush of motivation that makes me want to scribble out something FAST, so- WOE, bad MS Paint Comic Be Upon Ye! (I don't have time to draw it good, it just needs to get out of my brain)

I've been rotating thoughts of my RVB story-line, trying to adjust and re-work how certain things happen... I think I've finally got a few things sorted out, and one thing that hit right was my OC Poppy's intro to the characters. She's always been meant to be the new Red Team member (and with white armor, they finally fulfill the prophecy of being the lesbian flag~), but I wanted to make sure she has different interactions with all the others as well. I didn't really have a plan for hos she meets most of the Blues... but as I change the order of other events, it actually worked out for her to meet Tucker first. She's still part of the group of people Sarge has been asked to train (which leads him to finally have a "The military... is actually... BAD" moment. it took him a while, but he got there), but now I've got a scenario in which Sarge tries to get some of the former Freelancers to come by, give people a training session. Wash and Carolina were busy, but hey! Here's Tucker! He knows how to fight like a Freelancer, this is fine. He arrives outside of the main area... and promptly falls down a hill, face-planting in the dirt. Poppy was nearby, so she rushes over to help him up. She doesn't know that THIS is the guy here for the special training, and just talks to him in a friendly, casual way. As much as Tucker likes to show off, he also kind of likes just being able to... have a chill conversation with somebody. When Poppy introduces herself with her first name, he has a brief mental hiccup, because he almost forgot how it works when you meet people and don't care about ranks, or military protocol, or whatever (and he also realizes that she doesn't recognize him for his reputation, he doesn't have the chance to get to know somebody like this very often). So he hesitates a moment before he answers with his first name, Lavernius~

Text reads-

Tucker; OOOF!

Poppy; Woah, dude! You OK?

Tucker; Yeah... fine... just bruised my ego...

Poppy; Here, I'll help you up

Tucker; Thanks

Poppy; Man, you fell, like- ALL the way down the hill. I kept thinking, he'll probably catch himself, but. Nope. You just kept going!

Tucker; It definitely... wasn't the impressive entrance I was hoping to make

Poppy; Don't worry, I don't think anybody else saw. They're all waiting around for that soldier Sarge called in for the "special training". I was only over here to pretend to do vehicle maintenance- I really just wanted to cruise around. My name's Poppy!

Tucker; I'm- Lvaernius

[yeastinfectionvale]

OKAY so kind of part right. Naomi doesn't drive anymore, but she does work as an engineer with Williams. Her father drove rally cars in the 90s, before he lost his hand in a horrific accident. Despite this Naomi was raised around cars (her mother was a mechanic), and fell in love with driving and karting, though her dad always warned her against that life since it, by his own admission, made him absolutely miserable before permanently disabling him. She showed great promise, though, and her parents wanted to support her through it all, so long as she always aimed for better than her best.

She and Suki drove in f2 together, usually ending up vying for first place against each other. Naomi kept his advances of friendship at arms length for a long time, worried it would distract her from her father-given mission. She was a reserve driver for Alpine for a time, driving her first and last f1 race in Monaco in 2022. Eventually, she and Suki got closer, since Suki is Not one to give up trying to be friends with people, and she really did feel quite lonely. Their friendship was pretty well publicised, and for a long time, people speculated they were dating. It was racing against her that Suki had his big accident, and she witnessed the whole thing, ending up striking his car and having her own accident which, although overshadowed by the more dramatic injury served to her friend, put her out of commission for the foreseeable future.

Suki did assume she wouldn't want to be friends with him after, but she turned mostly to him for comfort. She decided herself after watching what had happened to her friend, what had happened to her, and what happened to her dad, that she just wasnt willing to risk it, especially since she, at that time, believed her chances of ever getting into f1 were extremely low, deciding instead to go to university to study engineering and help out around races for some experience. Her parents were extremely disappointed, and her father particularly blamed Suki for a while, refusing to speak to him and being generally bitter. It took some talking to from Naomi to get him to come around.

In the wake of the accident, Naomi and Suki spent a LOT of time together, and as Suki recovered and went back to driving, he was offered a place driving for Aston Martin, and their supposed relationship ended up even more publicised. With Suki not particularly wanting to stunt his growth by coming out, he just went with the lie and the two of them fake dated for basically the entirety of his rookie season. Which is funny because tho the media ate it up, literally any queer person who had ever seen Suki in person would say That Boy Does Not Like Women.

Anyways here are some pictures I've invented of her

Also she's from London. Do with that info what you will

OOOOOOH RALLY DAD (GROUP B?) THATS SO COOL. OH CHOOSING TO LEAVE RACING AND STUDY MUST HAVE BEEN A TOUGHT DECISION TO MAKE WOW. GOD THE F2 ACCIDENT MUST HAVE SHAKEN HER BADLY. THE FAKE DATING BIT IM CRYING OOOF.

Oooh I think what September was to Suki, Naomi might be to Mina (minus the whole toxic yaoi hehehe). But the most important thing

ANOTHER LONDONER (Mina is buzzing). Where in London???

[temporary-dysphoria]

In fact, in the interest of me spending the afternoon enjoying my own writing, here's a collection of my favourite lines from How to Train Your Assassins, that still give me the giggles when I read them 2 years after finishing the damn thing. Write for your future selves fellas, just do it.

Chapters One to uhhhh, idk five or eight or something.

I almost forgot how much fun I had writing Goemon.

And how much fun I had writing Goemon and Jigen together.

annnnnnd Jigen and Lupin...tbf the interactions in general were so fun to write.

Badass Goemon was the best Goemon

I really was in my Fujiko/Goemon era here hey?

I remember re-reading this as I tried to get it right and It still gives me the chills. Old Money Lupin is still my favourite origin story.

Speaking of lines that when i re-read them I get chills...

Hi I'm J.R.R Tolkien jnr and I'd like to write about my two blorbo's who know they're in love but neither will admit it cause they're IDIOTS

Lupin is still the only fandom where I get to fully unleash my nerdery about firearms, ammunition and reloading to it's 'nearly' full extent

This had to be one of the first scenes I wanted to shove in, I dunno where I picked it up from but god it took some working on to get right. Ooof still gets me in the feels though.

Anyway, I'm still reading. If there's anyone out there who's still reading or has re-read my behemoth of a magnum opus, add what your fave bits were.

Cause rn it's like I'm reading it for the first time all over again, and I'm having a grand old time.

[thesevenwondersofawitch]

Watching Star Trek: Strange New Worlds season 2, episode 10, Hegemony

I believe this is the s2 finale, so let's go!

I love how they mentioned the singing from the last episode 😂

Why am I kinda shipping Batel and Chapel

I feel like Captain Batel is gonna die

HOLY SHIT

IT'S THE GLOW CLOUD

Or the Gorn

Oh shit, Batel's ship blew up 👀

Chris doesn't have much luck when it comes to romance, it seems

Nitrogen bombs + Gorn = Gorn Popsicles

Erica is a genius😂

Quite the memorable first landing party for her to take part in😂

The fact Spock plans to add zombie movies to his research is so funny to me😂

Also, the fact that he's seen movies, makes me think (or hope) he and his mama watched Alice In Wonderland because he loved the book

I love how everyone (especially Pike) felt sick after Erica's driving/diving

If anything happens to her, I'm gonna be very grumpy

Aw man, Spock is so upset that he doesn't know what happened to Chapel

"Sickbay is gone" CHILLS LITERAL CHILLS

Spock ^

Wow, the planet really turned into a Wasteland 👀

Awwww the baby Gorn is kinda cute!

This is why I would never survive a zombie/Gorn apocalypse/invasion

Ooof, cannibalism

PELIA MY BELOVED

^ I love her in case it wasn't obvious

The way Pelia turned to Uhura like what did you figure out then turned away like ugh don't waste my time(when Uhura mentioned she needs an engineers help) then turn around when Uhura said she had a crazy theory 😂

I feel like Pelia and Raffi would get along famously

SCOTTY

HELL YEAH

Scotty: "That's a lot of lieutenants."

Erica: "There'll be a quiz."

BATEL IS STILL ALIVE

WOO

I love Scotty 😂

I love how Scotty is so crafty and resourceful

Pelia to Una: "And if you had answered like that in my class I would've given you an A+"

Una: -_-

I love how Batel knew exactly what Pike was up to when he thought she was sleeping

Pike and Batel: * having a slightly emotional conversation about not going alone to look for stuff/Pike trying to save everyone, ending with them looking flirtatiously at each other in silence*

Scotty, lurking behind Batel: "You're never gonna be able to retrieve the device without my help"

Batel and Pike: °_°

Scotty: "I didn't mean to eavesdrop. Not my fault you decided to have a secret conversation right in front of my sleeping spot."😂

CHRISTINE!!!!!!

The fact that it's Majel Barrett(I think) doing the voice for the computer while this Chapel is plugging things into the computer makes me so happy

Chapel: *banging on glass trying to get Spock's attention*

Spock: *casually floats by not noticing*

Damn, Batel's got a strong stomach I would've gotten sick being that close to that Gorn

IS BETAL GORN OR SOMETHING AND THAT'S WHY IT LEFT HER ALONE

OH SHIT

SPOCK SAW THE REFLECTION OF THE GORN

Uh oh, it took his gun

Whoa, the Gorn was also wearing a space suit, cool

Oh no, did Marie get Gorn eggs planted in her and that's why it left👀

OH SHIT SHE DID

Batel this episode ^

That's why she was so upset Chris came for her😭😭

I love that Scotty interrupted them 😂

Ooooooo Pelia is required in sickbay

PELIA KNOWS SCOTTY?!She cringed when Pike said his name😂Pelia: "One of my best students who sadly received some of my worst grades."

Pike: "Well, I'll leave you to it" *speed walks away*😂

Pelia, shaking her head looking at the jumble in Scotty's arms: "What the hell is this supposed to be?!"

Scotty in a voice similar to a child whining to their parent: "Something that could help us hide from the Gorn."

Pelia: "Oh"

Scotty: "If we can fix it."

Batel to Chapel: "I'll need you to take me out." Okay, it's a date then😁🤗

Wait the Gorn still have their people? I thought they rescued the surviving Starfleet officers?🤔

Idk it brings me such joy to see Pelia helping carry Scotty's project in the halls as things blow up, but it does

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? IT'S A CLIFFHANGER?!!!!

Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy

This is fine.