#tank/tank dynamics GOODBYE

[myreia]

— ii. lion-hearted

Fires burn, the sky crackles, a storm incoming. The front is devastation untold, enemies and allies lying dead alike in the field of battle. She could weep when she finds him; they lost sight of each other when the fighting started. There is still so much to be done—the rage and the fury and the madness blazing around them—but she needs this as desperately as she needs breath. One moment. One single, precious moment. A reminder that they both survived.

[athforskz]

Third Times the Charm - Lee Minho

Masterlist

type: strangers to lovers, college au, slow burn

pairing: tutor!Minho x afab!reader

wc: ~4.7k + 4 text ss

warnings: unbalanced power dynamic, themes of coercion, strong language, mention of failing academia, use of pet names, crying, dacryphilia, light touching, suggestive, reader is kinda tsundere, Minho is lowkey down bad for reader. MDNI.

a/n: there might be a part 2 for this one.

Enjoy lovelies!

“Alright, attempt number three. Here goes nothing,” you sighed heavily while taking your seat in the overcrowded lecture hall. This was your fourth semester in University and out of those four semesters, three of them were spent in your personal hell hole: organic chemistry. The first time you took this class, you had failed it, plain and simple. The second time you took it, your grade was passing, but barely. Definitely not enough to be accredited for the degree you wanted. Thus, you were back in the damned class once again to at least get a grade that wouldn’t tank your GPA. If you didn’t, then you could kiss that shiny degree goodbye.

The class was mainly filled by first or second semester students. They still looked young and ambitious. There were only a few students that were from your semester, and those that looked older were more than likely teaching assistants. While observing your peers, the professor waltzed in; the loud slam of her bag echoed throughout the lecture hall, effectively quieting the students.

“Okay everyone, time to settle down!” The professor’s voice was loud, authoritative even as she surveyed her new brood of students with sharp eyes. Yes, you’ve taken this class twice before, but never have you seen her teach it. Maybe she was new to the university? Most of the class was filled with going over housekeeping topics, such as the syllabus, laboratory requirements, and expectations for the upcoming semester. You tuned most of it out with having been through this same song and dance numerous times before for all classes. You huffed with your chin resting in the palm of your hand as you doodled mindlessly in your notebook, maybe decorating it would motivate you to study more.

You looked at the time on your phone and saw that it was about 10 minutes before the end of the lecture. You started packing your notebook and pen away just as your professor exclaimed something that caught your attention, “And please don’t forget to use your teaching assistants to your advantage. They are here to help you! Seek them out when you have questions or need someone to study with. I’m sure the TA’s will have no issue in aiding you on your journey through this course. Matter of fact, they will come up to introduce themselves to everyone!”

The few teaching assistants or ‘TA’s’ as your professor dubbed them seemed to look a little frazzled, well all except for one. He didn’t look like he was paying attention at all. One by one each assistant introduced themselves to the class. A couple of them were nervous, rightfully so, it takes a lot of guts to speak in front of a mini auditorium full of students. “Good morning, all! My name is Yeji; I am a graduate student here at the University. Chemistry is my passion, and I will be more than happy to help anyone that needs it. Please, let’s all have a good semester and finish strong!” The woman seemed so happy. You made a mental note to approach the bubbly one that deemed herself, Yeji, so you could make a study group with her. She spoke about the subject with ease and had such a warm confident aura about her. Yeah, she’d definitely be the key you needed to ace the course this time.

The last guy to go was the one that looked less than thrilled to be here, he stalked up to the podium before letting out a loud sigh. “I’m Minho, please hesitat- er.. don’t hesitate to reach out with any problems you may have.” He smirked at the end of his very brief introduction, if you could even call it that.

Was that supposed to be funny?

Even with that horrible introduction you couldn’t deny the man was attractive. Eventually, the end of the class came, and you quickly picked up your bag before the rush of other dismissing students carelessly kicked your things aside. You made your way down to the front of the lecture hall to hopefully introduce yourself to Yeji. It’d be better to formulate a study schedule with her now rather than later. You tried to push through the crowd that didn’t seem to be moving only to find out that the remaining crowd was packed around the TA you needed to speak with. It seemed as if you weren’t the only one that was drawn to her vibrant personality. You had a bit before you needed to get to your next class, so you decided to wait for the crowd to filter out.

Another 15 minutes pass and you can finally get the attention of your desired TA. “Hey! Yeji, right?” She nodded with a bright smile, “my name is Y/n, it’s nice to meet you! When do you think we could meet up for regular steady sessions? I’m free most days after 5pm.” You were being sweet and straight to the point, not wanting to waste time. Her face fell, “Oh, I’m so sorry. All of my sessions have filled up so quickly and I’m not able to offer one-on-ones with my schedule. Maybe one of the other assistants can help you.” She was still so polite, even when letting you down gently. You shook your head with a forced smile that didn’t quite meet your eyes. “It’s okay! I’m sure I can find help with another. Thank you though.” Yeji offered a half bow before making her way out of the classroom. The other two teaching assistants were long gone by now and they probably didn’t have room nor time to individually help you either. “Fuck… now what am I gonna do?” You whined while smacking your forehead.

“I can help you.”

You whipped your head around to the mysterious voice coming from behind you. It was the last TA that introduced himself. You’d already forgotten his name, and that he was even an option for that matter. “No that’s okay. I don’t want to inconvenience you or anything,” you tried to convince him. He took a few steps closer, even the way he walked was nonchalant, then he looked at you up and down slowly with his eyes as if analyzing you. His gaze was making you feel hot, but you couldn’t let him know that his stare was causing something to stir within you. “Seriously, it’s not an inconvenience. To be honest, I probably have the most free time out of all the others.”

Gee, wonder why that is? Maybe because you don’t take things seriously.

“So..?” He further inquired, waiting for your final answer. You raised a brow as if actually debating. “How about we just exchange numbers, and you can reach out if you change your mind,” he pulled his phone out from his hoodie pocket then handed it to you. “Isn’t it more formal to exchange university emails?” You asked while taking the phone from his hand to enter your number. He shrugged with the ghost of a smile on his face, “possibly, but looks like you don’t mind.”

A snort left your nose after you sent a quick text to your phone so his number could be saved in the contact list. After returning his phone you waved him off without another word. Even if he was your type physically, you didn’t really see yourself ever messaging him for help. You only allowed the exchange to happen to avoid coming off as rude. Plus, you didn’t have any other excuse to blow off his gesture.

Another couple of days pass with nothing too eventful happening. The normal hullabaloo at the start of a new schedule not really affecting you anymore since it was the fourth go-round. However, today was the day the chem course had its laboratory portion. The labs weren’t as big as the lecture hall, the entire class was divided into three smaller groups. Along with doing experiments instead of taking notes, the professor was not in charge of the labs, the assistants were.

You had hoped Yeji would be the assistant for your particular lab. Upon strolling into the laboratory, your eyes were blessed with the sight of the vibrant woman. She waved at you with a smile before going to help another student. You watched her with bright eyes while lost in thought:

This will make things so much more bearable! Maybe I’ll even have the chance to ask her a few questions abou- Oh no… you can’t be serious.

Your lips turned down when you caught sight of his handsome features. The other TA that seemed to not take things seriously. He hadn’t seen you yet as he was busy drawing a rather odd face on the chalkboard. Once he finished his little doodle he labeled it ‘jerumi’ prior to nodding his head in satisfaction as if he were proud of his work.

You sighed with an eye roll before heading to your assigned workstation. You familiarize yourself with the equipment and introduce yourself to your lab partner. As you’re exchanging contact info for future project collaborations, you felt a presence looming over your shoulder. A yelp left your mouth, startled, as the man standing behind you looked down at the device in your hands. It was him, of course it was. You placed your phone down on the workbench to avoid your shaky hands from dropping it.

“Do you mind?” You took a step forward to put some distance between your bodies (even though you liked the brief closeness). “Just making sure you aren’t getting off topic. By the way, you haven’t asked me for help yet. We should probably talk about schedules, ya know?”

What in the world is he talking about?

The expression on your face let him know that you had no idea what he was referring to, “remember I’m supposed to be helping you study? I’ve been waiting on you to text me.” That’s right! You made it seem like you accepted his offer in him giving you study sessions. “Right, right! Totally forgot, so sorry about that. The start of a new semester just has me a little frazzled,” you recovered quickly and even punctuated the situation with a fake laugh. You were hoping by not reaching out he would get the hint and leave you be. Obviously, that wasn’t the case and now there’s no hope in just avoiding him since he’s one of the lab assistants. “How about we talk about this later? I’ll definitely remember to shoot ya a message,” you lied. You wouldn’t remember, or rather you flat out wouldn’t do it even if you did remember.

All he did was raise a brow. You chewed the inside of your cheeks, hoping he’d buy the suggestion. The man retrieved his own phone from a pants pocket and did something on the device. Soon your own cell vibrated where it was set. The ever inquisitive (and nosey) man peered at the lit screen, “you don’t even have my number saved.” You quickly snatched your phone and shoved it in your back pocket. “Uh I- I was just trying to think of a good way to save your contact!” you fibbed sheepishly. “Just save it as my name, simple.” He shrugged like his name was the best thing to ever grace a person’s ears which means you should remember, right?

“Riiiight…” you swallowed thickly, praying to whatever higher power that he didn’t ask if yo-

“You don’t remember my name, do you?”

Fuck!

“Of course I remember!” You said a little louder than you intended, now classmates were looking your way, even Yeji peaked over to make sure everything was fine. Your hands covered your cheeks trying to cool yourself down from embarrassment. “Then what’s my name? Go on, say it.” He had a smirk on his lips and a devilish glint in his eye. 

Was he teasing? And why does he look so damn good like that?

You kept your mouth shut and avoided his gaze. Moments of silence passed before you heard him scoff, “Figures you don’t remember. It’s Minho. But my friends call me Lee Know if that’s easier for you.” He spoke so fast that you didn’t quite catch what he said. “Lionel?” You repeated.

“No, Lee Know,” he said slower this time. If you weren’t still reeling from the prior embarrassment, you’d think this ‘Lee Know’ is making fun of you. You simply nodded your head to acknowledge you got his name memorized… you think.

Thoroughly satisfied with having checked on you, he went to the next pair of students to annoy help them. You breathed a sigh of relief that he finally left, and you carried on with your lab partner for the remainder of the period.

About a month has passed and the semester is in full swing. Everything had been going great in all classes, even chemistry. You hadn’t needed much help as it was just the basics and because you flat out refused to ask Lee Know for help anyway. You’ve even successfully avoided all of his attempts so far to talk to you after class or in lab. Part of it was because he was actually helping other students (when he wasn’t acting standoffish, nonchalant, or sarcastic). The other part had just been pure luck, or bad luck since you couldn’t stare at his cute face.

However, you didn’t catch how he was aware of your avoidance. Minho could tell in your body language that you rather not associate with him, but he couldn’t figure out why. Why were you so stubborn in accepting his help? Had he done or said something wrong? Couldn’t be that; he’s barely had a real conversation with you. Or maybe you picked up on how he looks at you or how his eyes go soft once he hears your voice. Minho’s heart rate would even increase whenever he got near you, albeit he hasn’t come close to you often, but that’s not the point. He was utterly infatuated at first sight and had to get close to you in some way and those study sessions were his best bet.

You had just made it back to your dorm when a ding echoed from your pocket. The already slumping bag fell off your shoulder and you kicked your shoes off without a care. Thankfully, you didn’t need to worry about being super organized because you got a dorm all to yourself this year. Your hand reached in to pull out your phone to see who had messaged you. Probably just a friend asking if you wanted to grab food later, but no, it wasn’t a friend. It was Minho.

A sigh fell from your lips as you read yet another message from the man. Damn was he persistent. He would occasionally send a message to see if you needed help, but you would always ignore it. You had never messaged him except for the one simple ‘hi’ when exchanging numbers.

Seriously, what’s it going to take for him to catch a hint?

Maybe, just maybe if you respond to him this time and say you don’t need a tutor then he’ll leave you be. The more direct approach oughtta do it.

Well, that’s definitely not what you were expecting. Now you had a so called ‘study date’ with him Friday evening. 

Was he being flirty or just overly friendly?

You could think of a million other things to do rather than spend your Friday night studying the subject that’s the bane of your existence with your way too persistent TA. Then again, maybe being locked in a room with him wasn’t a bad idea.

The end of the week came faster than expected, which was both a blessing and a curse. Yes, you were ready to be free from school for the weekend, but before that you had to make it through this study session with Minho.

It shouldn’t take long. I’ll just go in there and show him I know what I’m doing, then boom! Home free. What could possibly go wrong?

You made your way to the underground study rooms that were agreed upon as the meetup point. There was only one room marked as reserved, the rest of them open on account of it being Friday and other students having more fun things to do with the weekend at hand. You took a deep breath before pushing open the door. There sat Minho, his soft hair pushed back out of his face as he organized a few things on the wide tabletop. His focus making him effortlessly attractive. You looked up at the whiteboard on the wall to see a slew of organic chemistry reactions that seemed unfinished. Is this what he wanted you to do today?

Minho looked up from his spot and greeted you with a toothy grin, “Y/n, you actually came!”

Why was he so happy? Did he take his position as teaching assistant seriously for once? He’s so much cuter when he smiles.

“Yeah, wouldn’t miss it for the world..” you trailed off with sarcasm in your tone. You sat opposite him at the table, slinging your backpack onto the ground and taking out your notes. Minho got up from his seat and made his way around to you. You didn’t pay attention to him at first as you were focused on finding a certain section in your notes. Right as you found the page you needed, Minho slammed his hand on the notebook and closed it. “Hey! Why’d you do that?!”

“You said you already knew everything that would be on the exam. So, you shouldn’t need this right?” He waved the journal just above your reach then tossed it to the other side of the table. “Show me what you can do. Finish and balance the reactions on the board,” he nodded towards the dry erase board at the front of the room with a smug look. Great, now his teasing is carrying over from those messages the other night. On top of that, his devious looks aren’t helping to quell the erratic thump in your chest. You stood to your feet while shooting him a glare and stomped over to the board then picked up a purple marker. The marker thumped against your palm as you were looking at the problem on the board trying to figure out the answer.

After a few minutes of thinking you hastily scribbled out your answer. Once finished you turned around with a confident ‘hmph’ as if to challenge him to tell you that you were- “Wrong,” he blurted out while standing from his spot at the edge of the table. Your jaw dropped. “No its not! That’s one of the easiest reactions to do in chemistry. There’s no way I got it wrong.” You protested as he walked over and plucked the marker right from your fingers. You continued to berate him as he ‘corrected’ your answer.

“You’re right ab-“ he started.

“Yeah, I know I’m right and you just messed it up!” You interrupted but he let you finish before he pushed his face dangerously close to yours. You’d have backed up if the table wasn’t already pressed into your lower back.

Minho’s voice was low when he spoke, “As I was saying, you’re right about it being an easy reaction to solve, but you still balanced it wrong. We’ve got some work to do if you can’t even figure this one out y/nnie.” He gently patted your cheek then made his way back to flip through your notebook. To say your head was spinning was an understatement. You weren’t even sure what emotions you were feeling right now. Anger? Embarrassment? Confusion? And maybe turned on?

No, there’s no way he just spoke to me like that! He’s acting all condescending. And what was that tone for anyway? Plus the nickname?? He’s just trying to rile me up..

You shook your head of any other thoughts and emotions before he caught a glimpse of your flustered state. You were now hellbent on proving this man wrong, that you did in fact know how to do easy reaction equations.

“Do you always space out with a scowl on your face?” You hadn’t even noticed he was staring at you when he asked the question. “Only when the mood calls for it,” you answered plainly.

“The mood?” Now his brow was raised. “Yeah, like when someone tells me I’m wrong when I’m not.”

He sighed with a shake of his head, “You aren’t going to learn anything if you’re just going to back talk me the entire time.”

“Well I wouldn’t back talk if you’d explain your reasoning on why my answer was incorrect. Oh, that’s right, you can’t because my answer wasn’t wrong in the first place!” Now you were the one being condescending.

Minho’s eyes narrowed at you. “Maybe if you would shut up and listen, I can tell you what’s wrong so you can actually pass the class for once.”

Ouch, that struck a nerve.

Your demeanor instantly weakened as he stood there and read you to filth. Minho could tell he went too far, and his eyes softened as your gaze averted to a blank corner of the room. “Look I’m really just trying to help you,” he pleaded.

“Then help me, Lee Know.” You sniffled with the faintest of watery eyes. Were you crying? Goodness, Minho sure hopes so. He has a thing when someone cries for him. Minho thinks you look so pretty on the verge of tears, it made him wonder what else you’d look pretty edging, but he shouldn’t focus on that right now. You wiped your eyes with the edge of your sleeve before a tear could fall. Trying to muster up the strength to continue on with this hell of a study session.

After emotions had calmed down, he came closer and showed you how to do the basics correctly. Minho explained that you had been taking notes improperly which made simple things more complicated. Your eyes widened at the realization of how much easier everything became after that.

Maybe he’s not so bad after all.

As much as you didn’t want to admit it, Minho’s study session actually helped you. You passed the exam the next week with flying colors. Now that you and he know you’re benefiting from the one on one time, Minho had suggested another session after the next lecture as the topics covered would be more difficult. You wanted to make sure you got things right the first time, so you agreed to meet with him again. Plus spending more time with an attractive guy that is secretly your type was a bonus.

Minho managed to book a different study room this time off-campus. You had heard of the place in passing from a friend but never thought to check it out. When you got there it was more of a lounge type of vibe but you appreciated the change of scenery. Staying on university grounds all the time could make you a bit stir crazy. You made your way towards the back of the building to see your personal tutor already hard at work in one of the study rooms. Your fist made light contact with the doorframe to let him know you arrived. 

“Ah, y/nnie come in. Close the door.” He got up to greet you with a hug. 

Touching? That's new.

You were caught off guard by his warm gesture but gave him a hug back, your body heating in the process. It was the least you could do since he’s helped so much. You decided to not put much thought into it as you got down to brass tacks. You sat on the couch in front of a coffee table since the desk in the room would be too small for collaboration.

Minho would walk you through each new topic to make sure you had a good understanding of it. All the while he sat dangerously close to you on the couch, his leg brushing against yours. Each time you made a mistake on a structure he’d take your hand and guide you on how to draw it the correct way. At first you really hadn’t noticed, but what tipped you off is when you caught him staring at you instead of the work. Then you started taking note of his lingering touches on your hand or his breath ticking your shoulder. All of this touching was making your body buzz.

Now, Minho was touching your back feening it as just an encouraging gesture but his hand position was low and his fingers danced along your spine. You never told him to stop because you weren’t exactly uncomfortable, but it was making you breathe heavier and lose focus.

Damn, he smells so good.. and that sultry voice he’s using is gonna make me melt.

 A hiss from the man brought you out of your fuzzy thoughts and snap your head towards him instead of the paper in front of you. “Watch where you put that hydrogen molecule, kitty. Can’t have you making dumb mistakes.” 

Did he just say kitty?

“Hey, I’m not dumb!” You retorted but there was no bite in your tone. You ignored the nickname, thinking it was just a slip of the tongue. He chuckled at your furrowed expression, “that’s not what I meant.” 

Minho’s hand came to squeeze your knee then proceeded to rub along your thigh. 

Seriously, when did this man get so touchy? 

The remainder of the study session went on without any major mess ups from you. The only time you did make a mistake was when Minho got bold with his touching. You never told him you didn’t like it though, his hands were warm and who were you to tell him no if it didn’t hurt anything. 

Eventually studying with Minho became a twice weekly regular thing and so did his touching. He remained respectful with the placement of his hands… until today. 

You were sat in your dorm room with Minho as all the study rooms were taken on campus and the place off campus was booked too. Guess everyone needed to lock in with midterm exams around the corner. 

“I don’t know if I’ll ever get this oxidation method down. It’s so complicated for no reason,” you groaned while throwing your head back. “You just need to remember the steps, y/n. It isn’t too bad.” He laughed at your dramatics. 

“And how in the world am I going to remember it so easily?” 

“Easy. Muscle memory.” He said with almost no inflection. You turned to look at him as if he had three heads. “Lee Know, what the hell are you talking about? In case you forgot this isn’t your dance class we’re studying here. I can’t just pop and lock an oxidation reaction into my body.” 

“Sure you can, but it won’t exactly involve dancing.” Now he looked as smug as the Cheshire cat. You were still beyond confused and motioned for him to elaborate, “Ya know I can get you to remember anything by just making you feel good.” Minho’s voice lowered as he leveled himself to your face. “All you have to do is let me touch you. Whaddya say, kitten?” 

When did he get so close? 

He was so close that you could feel his breath fanning across your neck. Your brain was fuzzy and still swimming with questions, but your body was already having such a reaction to him. You shouldn’t say yes, but saying no isn’t an option either. You needed to do well in this class, you simply didn’t have any other choice. 

Without further thought you nodded your head in agreement, “Yes..” Your voice came out shakier, more breathy than intended. 

“Yes what? Say it.” He demanded with a stern tone, his hand coming up to hover over your cheek, not yet touching it until he gets an answer.

“You can touch me.” You whispered while leaning into his palm. Your response caused Minho to lean his head back with his eyes shut, a satisfied groan leaving his throat. “Good, now let’s get to work. You’ve got a lot of memorizing to do and I intend on burning it into every inch of your skin.” He placed his hands on your thighs giving them a hard squeeze while spreading them apart. Your skin already felt like it was on fire, but little did you know this was just the beginning.

You had no idea what kind of power you’ve just given to this man but he was definitely intent on showing you. 

Surely it couldn’t be that bad, right?

Special thanks to my honey @doitforbangchan for being my beta reader <3

Taglist: @doitforbangchan @jehhskz @laylasbunbunny

[katz-chow]

im a ghost girlie but my love for soap is literally incomprehensible and i have this headcanon where its ghost x reader but soap third wheels all the time and its not like in a mean way at all, they’re just a trio that is basically inseparable. i also hc that they make so many jokes about being a throuple to the point where its not rlly a joke anymore lmao. anyway, this is all to ask if you’ll write some headcanons about that dynamic. fluff ofc! if u feel comfortable writing a little bit of poly soap x reader x ghost, i’d be very gracious 🙏🏽 but no pressure!

soap, simon, and the not-so-single parent

warnings: gn!reader, ghost x reader, soap x platonic!reader, my interpretation of ghost & soap, domesticity, fluff, johnny being johnny, simon being simon, reader being the concerned parent, third-wheel soap

a/n: this shit be on my mind constantly that johnny just loves to annoy and thirdwheel reader & simon. some of this is inspired by irl stuff. i'm not really into a poly triangle personally and i just can't imagine them, especially simon, to be okay with it, sorry!

humble beginnings

johnny didn't find out that simon had a romantic partner until you two reached past your 1 year anniversary. it happened by pretty much chance too, here's how that went: simon forgot a file, you were off of work, you drove to base, you dropped off said file using your dependent clearance, he kissed your cheek goodbye right in the doorway of his office (masked), johnny turned the corner, and as simon pulled away, you looked at johnny who was desperately trying to seem busy on his phone as he walked away hurriedly. he was on the calculator app. simon and you gave each other a look and he nodded, knowing that you've been wanting to meet the colorful coworkers (and his closest friends) for a while now. you called him over, soap, as you've remembered, not everyday you see a mohawk. johnny freezes and turned around to see you beckoning him back to the frame of the office, and simon with his arms crossed, staring a bit annoyed actually. he was chill when you two introduced each other, not wanting to embarrass himself. his eyes lit up though, when he heard you invite him over for dinner. "lovie..." simon started out, a gentle hand on your back. you hit his chest with the back of your head playfully, "no, no, this will be good for us. first diner party in our new house" "HOUSE? HOW LONG HAVE YOU HAD SOMEONE" he wanted to scream at simon's face, what came out however was a "i dinnae want to be a bother to you both" you insisted and he felt bad (but also curious), so dinner it was. simon took off his mask to please you and well, it was the comfort of his home. he rolled his eyes as johnny quipped that he certainly was "quite the opposite". from that day forward, it was the three of you against...manchester i guess?

children, the both of them

johnny tags along whenever you two are running errands on leave or on off days when they're both stationed at home. sometimes it's just you and him, or him and simon, or all three of yall. it started with a "we're having brunch, wanna join?" and now it's more like "we're going to the zoo, 9 am, get there" they make up the weirdest challenges and it feels like you're babysitting them both. simon, doesn't see it, he's a grown adult man, he's not silly. johnny says it's just in his nature like how it's natural that wombats poop in cubes (he walked ahead to read that tidbit and walked back to regurgitate it back at the two of you). challenges include: simon and johnny getting into a long debate about which is better, the smoked salmon crepes or the chocolate crepes, and when they mix them together, who can eat it all without puking? who can get to the butterfly sanctuary the fastest without running? who can find your favorite fish in the 30,000 gallon (113562.35 liter) fish tank WHILE holding their breath as if they were swimming in the water johnny telling you that his jokes are the best, simon butting in and using the "i'm your boyfriend, surely my jokes are better" card. you wanted to throw them both out of the car as they kept going back and forth with the most stupidest, tasteless, dad jokes ever. johnny saying he can drive better than simon. simon saying he can fly a broken helicopter and land safely. you're in the driver's seat. simon quipped that he would be a good artist compared to this shit's canvas (picasso) and johnny saying that his cat can paint better. simon said dogs can do it better. johnny said- you get the idea simon threw up after the 8th time on a rollercoaster. johnny threw up on the 9th. you, however, went through a nice scenic boat ride :)

quiet mornings

you three are closer than yall think. whenever they're both away, you always miss the noise they bring in the kitchen, trying to figure out how to make muffins or...popcorn. the three of you doing the daily wordle, crossword, and sudoku. "what's c for?" "c4 is an explosive, bonnie" "no johnny, what does C STAND FOR? fucking idiot..." mornings when you both are expecting johnny are never quiet, especially when he announces that he's there by knocking on the front door and saying "it's johnny!" when someone opens it. even when he's not there, you can at least hear simon's almost silent breaths if it wasn't for how close you two were. you miss them when they have to leave, you know it can't be forever, but damnit you missed the buzzing of them both. you don't miss, however, johnny and simon playing drunk monopoly.

[charmandabear]

Office Hours - Chapter Thirteen

Summary:

Astarion's reaction to your confession isn't at all what you expect.

Pairing: Astarion/f!Reader Rating: Explicit Word Count: 7.3k Tags/Warnings: slightly rough sex, piv, kink dynamics (honestly nothing new)

T_T When I tell y'all how emotional this has made me. Yes, this is the last chapter (for now.) I will almost immediately be starting on the sequel, a more slice-of-life exploration of their new relationship. I have far too many things planned to not keep going. Also, I know some people have mentioned that they appreciate the fact that Tav hasn't had any specific descriptions, and I do apologize, that will change. But on the bright side, it means I'm going to be able to continue to release my screenshots of the Professor and Rosalind.

Your support during all of this has meant so much to me, you have no idea. Any time I think that I feel like garbage, either about my writing or anything else, your comments really brighten my entire demeanor. So thank you, and thank you for your patience during this time. Now, onto the next one!

Read on AO3 ~ Masterlist

You keep your eyes glued to the screen for the last 14 minutes of Heathers without absorbing a second of it. You can feel Astarion stealing glances at you, but you steadfastly keep your head forward. When the show ends, you give Karlach and Shadowheart halfhearted goodbyes, purposefully avoiding Shadowheart’s suspicious stare. You busy yourself with picking up wine glasses and bringing them into the kitchen.

“You know, it was admittedly better than I thought it would be,” you say, trying to fill the awkward silence as you gather dishes. “It definitely made more of a pointed statement than I would have expected, and it’s thematically stronger than I initially realized.” You’re fully aware of the fact that you’re babbling but you can’t stop yourself. 

“Say it again,” you hear Astarion say behind you quietly. You freeze and slowly turn back to where he’s sitting on the couch. His expression is completely inscrutable.

“What?” Your mouth goes dry and a prickling heat crawls up the back of your neck. 

He stands and approaches you slowly, and you’ve never felt more like a trapped animal under his penetrating gaze.

“Say it again.” His voice is smooth as velvet and cold as ice. 

“Say what?” You know that your feigned innocence is unconvincing. He backs you up until you can feel the counter pressing into your spine. He stands close to you and tilts up your chin with his finger.

“You know what,” he whispers, and you feel like his eyes have never looked so red. You swallow thickly, working your jaw to try to regain use of your voice.

“I- I love you,” you choke out the words which ring hollow and almost meaningless in your ears. Astarion grabs your face, kissing you suddenly and roughly. You cling to him, your confusion doing nothing to abate the desperation and hunger with which you return his kiss. He twists his hands into your hair, almost bringing you up onto your toes with how forcefully he assaults your lips.

“Again,” he growls between breathless kisses, and your fists ball up into his shirt.

“I love you,” you gasp, and his hands tighten in your hair, pulling you impossibly closer. He scoops you up into his arms and your legs wrap tightly around his waist. He moves his lips to your jaw as he carries you to your bedroom.

“Again.” His voice is husky in your ear and suddenly the dam breaks, the words pouring out of you in a rush.

“I love you, Astarion,” you whimper into his neck as the two of you fall backwards onto your bed. “I love you so fucking much. I love you so much it hurts.” He peppers your neck and jaw with sloppy kisses as you cling to the back of his head.

“Again,” he groans, the word falling somewhere between a demand and a plea. He tears your tank top off you, making it the second piece of clothing today alone he’s destroyed. But you can hardly bring yourself to care – all that matters is your connection with him, his skin against yours, his breath in your ear. 

“I l-love you.” The words are breathy and uneven as you fumble at the button of your jeans, the wretched things only serving as a barrier between you. You paw hungrily at his waistband, unable to articulate your want. He pulls up onto his knees, eyes bright and wild as he unbuttons his pants.

“Say that you’re mine,” he snarls, and the possessive tone of his voice alone is enough to make you mewl like an animal in heat. 

“I’m yours, Astarion.” Your body writhes out of your control, a shiver running up your spine from the cool air caressing the slick lips of your pussy. “I’m your plaything, I belong to you.”

He dives back down onto you, his hungry kisses only increasing in fervor as the growing length of his cock presses against your cunt. You claw at his shoulders, desperate to feel every part of him, and his arms slide under your back, pulling you in even closer. 

“Good, yes, again.” He pushes your legs apart with his knee, grinding his cock against your cunt and your hips involuntarily buck up into him.

“I’m yours, I belong to you, I love you,” you babble, tears forming in the corners of your eyes as your heart beats loudly in your ears. He kisses your neck and you hold his head close, your fingers sliding through his silver curls.

“Don’t stop,” he grunts as he slides his cock into you and you cry out, the sting of the stretch elevated slightly from the lack of foreplay. 

“I love you.” You barely recognize the sound of your own voice anymore, you feel like a woman possessed. “Please, Astarion, please, I need you. I love you. I’m yours.”

“Fuck, yes, more, please,” he pleads, barely bothering to hide his desperation. He begins to fuck into you, slow and steady, and you pull his chest into yours. You wrap your arms around his back, across his scars, pressing the flat planes of his chest into your soft stomach and tits. 

“I love you.” Your voice cracks as sensations overwhelm your body. Astarion presses his forehead to yours and you grip the back of his neck, your two bodies moving in tandem. His cock drags along your walls as he presses your thighs up against your belly.

“Yes, Tav, say it again,” he huffs, picking up the pace and you let out a particularly high pitched whine at the sound of your name falling from his lips.

“I love you, Star. I love you, please don’t stop.” Your eyes well up with very real tears as your chest grows tight and you can feel your orgasm building in the depths of your core. You grind your hips up into him as he thrusts in and out of you, the wet sound of slapping skin almost drowning out your breathy repeated confessions. You pull him into you, your nails digging into his shoulders as you kiss him deeply, teetering on the edge.

“Tav, I–” He breaks the kiss just in time for a few final broken juts of his hips and he’s coming, setting off your own climax not long after. The pleasure ripples through your body as he clutches you close to him, your walls throbbing around the pulsing of his cock as he spills inside of you. 

The two of you stay connected, barely moving save for your heavy breathing as the waves of your orgasm finally settle. After what feels like both an eternity and far too soon, he pulls out of you and sits up, giving you the first chance to properly look at him. His hair is disheveled, and he had taken off his glasses at some point so you’re looking into those bright red eyes directly. He’s uncharacteristically flushed, something that usually only happens right after feeding, but you’re surprised to realize that he didn’t even try to bite you.

“Are you good?” you ask breathlessly, a little concerned by the slightly unhinged look in his eye. He pulls the mask back on quickly, but not before you’ve seen him without it.

“Yes darling, of course,” he flashes you a practiced smile and pulls you into a soft kiss. There’s still something gnawing at the back of your mind, but it quickly dissolves at the familiar feeling of his lips against yours. You melt into him, putty in his hands, his fingers in your hair giving you comfort and protection. “I’ll clean up. You sleep,” he murmurs into your skin. Your eyelids grow heavy almost against your will, and he kisses the top of your head. Your arm trails feebly after him as he stands and walks out of your bedroom. 

You crawl under the covers, too emotionally exhausted to even bother with brushing your teeth. You feel comforted by the casual domestic sounds of Astarion cleaning up outside your bedroom door. You’re almost fully asleep when you feel him slide into bed next to you. You snuggle back into him as he slips an arm around your waist and plants a soft kiss on your bare shoulder.

***

The sound of your alarm the next morning rattles through your skull, setting off your mild wine hangover. You swipe the alarm off and turn over to reach for Astarion only to find empty space. You sit up and blink yourself awake, listening closely to the ambient sounds in your apartment to see if he’s in the shower or making you breakfast, but all you can hear is the soft hum of your air filter. 

You try to quell your disappointment by reminding yourself that he spent the last 36 hours in your apartment and probably just needed to slip out before sunrise. Besides, he has class today, and he came to your apartment two days ago with absolutely nothing on him. It’s totally reasonable that he needed to leave early, and he probably just didn’t want to wake you.

The disappointment creeps up on you regardless.

You’re still not entirely sure how to process what happened last night. Did you really tell him that you love him? Did you mean it? His response was borderline feral. You weren’t particularly ready to say it, and he didn’t really seem ready to hear it. 

You shake your head and try to let the insecurity pass. Maybe it’s just a game he was playing again, like the night of Taming. Maybe when you see him today, you can just pretend it never happened.

It’s times like this that you really wish you had a pet. Your apartment isn’t very big, but it feels positively cavernous right now. At least if you had a dog, you’d be able to distract yourself with taking care of it. You throw on a robe and shoot Karlach a quick text as you head into the kitchen.

-Hey, where did you adopt Clive?

You see Astarion’s glasses on the kitchen counter and frown. Doesn’t he need those to see? You walk over and pick them up, noticing just how smudged they are. You clean them on the sleeve of your robe and hold them up to the light, and you’re surprised to realize that you can see right through them perfectly fine. You put them on and your vision doesn’t change at all.

He doesn’t need them to see, they’re completely cosmetic.

You burst out laughing, almost shocked that it took you this long to find out. You suspected it before you started dating, but you had chalked that up to your unreasonable bitterness towards him.

You take a selfie while wearing the glasses and sticking out your tongue. You look at the picture, delete it, take your hair out of its messy bun and tousle it around your face, then take the picture again. Good, much cuter. You send it to him along with the text:

-Caught you, you fucking liar.

Nice and casual, right? This will show him that nothing needs to change after last night, that it was just a scene that neither of you need to take too seriously. You take off Astarion’s glasses and fill the kettle with water for your coffee. You instinctively reach for the instant Folgers before remembering the fancy new stuff that he got for you. You had watched him make it, but frankly, you didn’t pay attention at all. How much are you supposed to grind? For how long? How much water?

You decide to just guess, grinding a tablespoon of beans until it looks like the instant coffee that you’re used to drinking. You pour the grinds into the French press and fill it about halfway with water. You sit on a barstool while it brews, staring at it impatiently.

Suddenly your phone buzzes, and your heart leaps thinking it’s a response to your glasses selfie. Instead, it’s from Karlach.

-omgggggggggggg soldier r u getting a dog? can i come????

Her enthusiasm makes you laugh. You lean forward on the kitchen island and reply.

-I’m thinking about it. You have tech at the end of this tenday, right?

-ah fuck. yea. what about the next fiveday break? we have a dark day before opening

-That’s perfect. I’ll text Shadowheart to see if she’s available.

Karlach’s response is instantaneous.

-she is

-🐶🦴🐾❤️‍🔥🎉🙌

Right, they’re practically living together at this point. You wonder vaguely if they’ve said it yet and your heart sinks. You might not be able to play it off as nonchalantly as you thought. 

You distract yourself by pouring your coffee. It’s a little more transparent than you’re used to seeing, but you figure that’s because they’re, like, golden beans or something. You could probably stand to learn more about coffee, especially if you’re going to start drinking the fancy stuff for Astarion, but that sounds like so much work. You pour a dollop of milk into your mug, trying to mimic the color of the coffee he made for you yesterday. You scoop in two teaspoons of sugar, stir it until it dissolves, and then take a sip.

It’s… not as good.

There are so many factors that you’re not sure which step you messed up. You compensate for the weak flavor with more milk, which makes it only slightly more tolerable. Regardless, it’s still better than the instant stuff, so you continue drinking it as you assemble a quick breakfast, making a mental note to get more specific instructions from Astarion. 

When you get to work, you pass his office in the hallway on the way to yours, and you’re surprised to find the door closed. You press your ear to the wood paneling, trying to hear if he’s talking to a student, but you’re met with silence on the other side. You knock, and there’s no answer. 

You frown to yourself. He’s probably just at a department meeting elsewhere in the building, right? Totally normal thing for ten o’clock in the morning. You check your texts with him, and it says that your message was sent, but not delivered. Maybe his phone died from spending so much time in your apartment, it’s not like he charged it or anything.

Yeah, that’s probably it.

You drop off your things at your desk and head to the main office to check your mail. You wonder if you’ll maybe see him in there, but it’s just Grace, clicking away at her computer. 

“Morning, Grace,” you say to her as you head to your mailbox. She waves at you cheerily.

“Morning Tav! Have you all decided on a season yet?” She leans forward in her chair, clearly fishing for gossip. You feel the heat rising in your neck as you remember Astarion’s suggestion of Romeo and Juliet.

“Uh, not quite, no. But fingers crossed that we’re close!” You smile at her awkwardly. Your eyes dart to the office door, hoping that he’ll just stroll in, but the doorway remains painfully empty. “Hey, uh, Grace, have you seen Ast– Dr. Ancunín yet today?”

She looks up as she tries to recall. “I don’t think so… But if he comes by, I can let you know you’re looking for him.”

“No, it’s fine,” you blurt quickly. Then, trying to play it cool, you add, “It’s not important, I’ll just tell him the next time we cross paths.” You don’t think you’d get in any sort of trouble with HR if people found out that the two of you are dating since you’re in different departments, but you’d still rather not deal with the rumor mill that is academia. You grab the fliers out of your mailbox, glancing at them briefly before tossing them in the trash and returning to your office. 

You lose yourself for a few hours in answering emails, organizing your notes on student scenes, and reading over your updated syllabus for the fall section of Classical Acting I. You almost jump in surprise when you hear a quiet knock on your open door. You look up to see an older tiefling gentleman hovering in the doorframe.

“Dr. Maier, hello!” you greet the chair of the English department politely. You’ve definitely seen him around, but you haven’t had much interaction with him other than a friendly wave in the hallway.

“Please, Zevlor is fine,” he says pleasantly. You breathe an internal sigh of relief – everyone in the theatre department just goes by their first name, and you find it impossible to keep up with the politics of honorifics in other departments. 

“Zevlor, yes, how can I help?” You close your laptop and gesture to the teal armchair across from your desk. He silently waves his hand as if to say, no, this will be quick.

“I’m terribly sorry to bother you, but is there any chance you’re free to cover English 340? Dr. Ancunín is nowhere to be found and his students are preparing for their final exam.” He wrings his hands nervously and you blink as you process what he’s telling you.

“Wait, what do you mean Dr. Ancunín is nowhere to be found?”

“No one has seen him since before the fiveday break, and none of his students received an email from him canceling class. He’s not answering any messages and his mobile is going straight to voicemail.” Zevlor rattles off the list on his fingers, unable to keep some of the snippiness out of his voice. You don’t blame him, honestly – Astarion isn’t exactly a team player, so it’s easy to imagine that he’s not the most pleasant colleague to work with.

“Um, sure, yeah. It’s in 110 downstairs, correct?” You pick up your laptop and your copy of the Bevington before briefly reconsidering and then pulling the Norton off your bookshelf. 

“Yes, it is. Thank you, you’re a lifesaver.” Zevlor clasps his hands and gives you a small bow before exiting your office. You jog downstairs and head towards 110. As you approach the door, you hear Mol’s brassy voice in the hallway.

“No, I swear, it’s in the department handbook and everything. If the teach’ don’t show up for fifteen minutes, you can leave!”

You laugh as you walk into the classroom. “Are students really still peddling that myth?”

“Oh hey, miss, you teachin’ us today? Where’s Ank-yunín?” She’s sitting backwards  atop her desk with her feet on the chair. 

“Dr. Ancunín had something come up.” You emphasize his name to correct her pronunciation. “And sit,” you add, pointing to the seat of her chair. 

“Will he be back before the final?” The girl you remember to be named Yenna asks anxiously. You hesitate, unsure how to answer.

“That… is the plan, yes,” you finally say, and she looks visibly relieved. Where the fuck did he go? And… this has nothing to do with last night, right?

Right?

***

The longer you don’t hear from him, the more worried you get. You keep checking the message with the selfie, but it still just reads ‘sent.’ Which means either his phone is off, or he’s gone somewhere that has no service.

Or he’s blocked you.

You shake off the thought, trying desperately to reassure yourself about his feelings for you, but the little insecurity gremlin grows louder with each passing day. And it keeps shouting one question louder than the rest.

“He didn’t say it back?” Karlach looks at you, mouth agape. You fiddle with the sleeves of your cardigan self consciously while Shadowheart just seethes. The three of you are walking down the street towards the Sword Coast Cafe, a pet cafe just outside the city. It’s been almost a tenday since you’ve seen or heard from Astarion, and seemingly no one in the English department has seen him, either.

“I didn’t realize it at first,” you admit sheepishly, “everything just happened so fast. Afterwards, I kept replaying what happened over and over and suddenly I realized that he didn’t say it.”

You open the door to the cafe and are greeted by a cheery-looking gnome with a mop of fiery red hair.

“Hello! Welcome to the Sword Coast Cafe! My name is Dringo, and I’ll be your docent,” he chuckles at his own joke. “Have you been here before, or is this your first time?”

“I have,” Karlach pipes up, then jabs her thumb over towards you. “My mate over here is the one looking for a new furry friend.” You give an awkward little wave.

“Fantastic! Why don’t you go ahead and fill out this questionnaire so we can try to match you with the perfect pet. Here are your potions of animal speaking,” he hands you a tray with three little shot glasses with a semi-viscous green liquid. “Those should last about an hour. Feel free to have a seat, the other animals might come up to you, they might not.” He gets very serious suddenly. “Please don’t approach any of the animals without their express consent. Sword Coast Cafe is not liable for any injuries that you may incur.”

You listen to his instructions, nodding along but only absorbing some of it. You look down at the questionnaire, and it’s filled with questions that you might find on a dating site. 

What are you looking for in a pet? Are you a morning or night person? Do you have any children? Are you outdoorsy or a homebody? Describe your perfect day off.

You down the shot of potion, and it tastes exactly the way a farm smells. You contort your face in disgust and Dringo looks at you sympathetically. But before long, the cacophony of meows, barks, and chirps slowly morphs into the sound of chatter, not unlike what it sounds like in a regular busy cafe. You make your way over to a cushy beanbag chair while Karlach plops herself on the floor and Shadowheart perches delicately on a pink wooden stool. They continue to pepper you with questions about Astarion while you fill out the form. 

“So he repeatedly demanded that you say it, but he never said it back,” Shadowheart deadpans, her eyes narrowing into a glare. “And then he disappears for a tenday without so much as a note?”

“He left his glasses,” you defend him in a very small voice.

“That he doesn’t really need to see!” she hisses, and a nearby calico gives her an indignant stare.

“Soldier, you sure that him disappearing even has anything to do with you? Maybe a family thing came up,” Karlach offers helpfully. You finish the questionnaire and hand it to Dringo to avoid answering her question.

“What family?” Shadowheart sneers. “There’s no way he has anyone left.”

Without the pen and paper to keep your hands busy, you start to fidget with your sweater again. “I only just started learning about his past, but I don’t get the sense that he’s in touch with any of his blood relatives, or even if they’re still alive,” you say quietly. You’re suddenly far more worried about his well-being than his feelings for you. “What if he’s hurt? What if his old master had some unknown ally and he’s been captured and–”

“Breathe, soldier. I’m sure nothing so drastic has happened,” Karlach reassures you with a hand on your knee, and you can feel her warmth through your tights. 

“A good dog will always find his way back home,” a voice from behind Karlach pipes up. You look over her shoulder and see a white dog with big brown eyes looking back at you. Karlach turns her head and gasps with delight.

“Well aren’t you just the most handsome fella?” she coos, and his tail starts wagging enthusiastically. 

“Hey buddy, what’s your name?” you ask, grateful for a distraction from the conversation about Astarion.

“They call me Scratch, here. You can call me that, too, friend,” he responds, and it’s only slightly jarring to hear his voice without his lips moving. But frankly, you’re pretty sure it would be more off putting if they did.

“Hiya, Scratch, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Tav, and these are my friends Shadowheart and Karlach,” you say, gesturing to each one in turn. He dips his head in a polite greeting.

“Did you have another good boy who ran away?” he asks, and Shadowheart snorts.

“I wouldn’t exactly call him a good boy,” she scoffs just as Karlach clarifies, “He didn’t exactly run away,” in the same cadence.

“Sort of,” you explain, “it’s a bit complicated.” He sniffs the air around you curiously.

“Well you smell very nice to me, so I’m sure he’ll come back soon,” he says with confidence. It’s only when your eyes start to well up that you realize just how much of a rollercoaster the past tenday has been.

“Scratch, may I pet you?” you ask, unable to keep your voice from cracking. His tail starts wagging again, and he bobs his head in an approximation of a nod. You reach out and give him scritches behind his ears as his head presses into your palm. You’re suddenly hit with a rush of emotions and your carefully built dam breaks, allowing the tears to flow freely. Scratch licks your face, making you laugh.

“Would you like me to keep you company while you’re waiting for your good boy to return?” he asks, and you press your forehead against his. 

“I’d like that a lot, buddy, thanks,” you say with only a mild tremor in your voice. You dabyour eyes on your sleeve to keep from smudging your makeup just as Dringo approaches you with a beautiful longhaired ginger cat.

“I think Malta here would be a great fit for you!” Dringo says excitedly, and the cat narrows his eyes suspiciously.

“The slightly less tall one had misunderstood the winds of fate. The cat and the taller one were not destined to become companions this day,” Malta narrates mysteriously, and you have to admit that you’re completely taken with this little weirdo.

“Wait, what?” Dringo looks at Malta, then back at you, before his eyes finally fall onto Scratch. “Oh! I didn’t realize that you were already in conversation with someone. I don’t think she’s the right choice for you, Scratch, she lives in a little apartment. You need a big house with a backyard, don’t you?”

Scratch looks at you expectantly. “Will you take me to the park?”

“Of course! As often as I can,” you assure him, and his tail wags again.

“Then I would like to go with Mistress,” he tells Dringo excitedly.

“The large, excitable white cat has already bonded with the tall one,” Malta notes. “Perhaps the tall one and the cat will meet in the future, but until that day comes, they were merely two ships passing in the night. When is that fateful day? Only Destiny could say.”

“Oh. My. Gods. I love him.” Karlach claps her hands over her mouth in excitement, and Malta looks at her appraisingly.

“The very, very warm one smelled of cinders and the musk of a stranger. The cat was far too cautious to make such a foolhardy mistake,” he says, turning his nose up at her. She nods along very seriously.

“The very warm one learned her lesson and decided to merely admire the cat from afar,” she narrates back to him, and his tail flicks in approval before he saunters off. Dringo blinks as though he’s trying to figure out how he got outsmarted by a cat.

“Well then,” he says, shaking his head, “I suppose I’ll draw up the paperwork for Scratch.” The dog dances on his front paws, his nails making happy little clacking noises on the wood floor.

You leave the cafe with an armful of supplies and Scratch padding happily behind you. You can feel the potion of animal speaking wearing off as his excited stream of consciousness fades into a series of quiet boofs and snuffs. 

You walk into the lobby of your building and Withers looks at you, then at Scratch, with narrowed eyes. He and the dog make eye contact for an uncomfortably long time, and you’re not sure if Withers is able to communicate telepathically. He finally looks back at you and nods solemnly. 

“The dog may stay,” he says in his gravelly voice. You’re fairly certain that your lease allows for up to two pets, but you appreciate getting his blessing regardless.

Once in your apartment, Scratch bounds happily around your living room as you put his food in the cabinet under the sink. You toss the bed Dringo gave you onto the floor under the window. You furrow your brow, trying to figure out the rules – you’ve never had a dog before.

“Am I supposed to… not let you on the couch or something?” you ask him hesitantly. He looks at you, his warm brown eyes sparkling. You look at your black faux-leather sofa, something you got for free off Craigslist, and shrug. It’s not like you’re super attached to it anyway. Besides, you don’t really mind cleaning, so if some of his white fur gets on it, you can just wipe it off.

Scratch continues to look at you, seemingly waiting for an answer. You look back at him, already missing the effects of the speak with animals potion. You’ll have to ask Astarion where he gets his.

Astarion.

It all comes crashing down on you at once. Accidentally saying ‘I love you,’ the deeply intense and overwhelming sex, and then him just… disappearing without a trace. Did he really run away? Just uproot himself and leave because… because what? Moved too fast? Revealed your past with Aradin? Probed too deep into his trauma? 

Or maybe it’s something else entirely. Maybe he’s dead in a ditch with a stake through his heart, or burnt to a crisp somewhere off the highway. Maybe he’s trapped in a dungeon somewhere being tortured at this very moment.

You try to take deep breaths, acknowledge your feelings without judgment, compartmentalize to deal with them later, reassure your various parts… but none of Jaheira’s techniques are working right now, and you collapse onto the couch, crying. Scratch hops up beside you and licks the tears from your face. You laugh in spite of yourself, an uncomfortable feeling as it mixes with the choking sobs. You pet him behind the ears and he drops his chin on your shoulder, almost like a dog version of a hug. You wrap your arms around his neck and continue to cry into his fur.

***

You’re curled up on your couch with your feet tucked underneath you, reading Dance Nation on your tablet while Scratch snoozes peacefully. The soft patter of rain on the window creates a pleasant ambient noise.

You’re startled out of your reverie when the intercom by your front door buzzes. You stare at it, confused because that almost never happens. Withers has some mysterious system for allowing visitors in that rarely requires any input from you. He just sort of knows who to let in and who not to.

You walk over to the intercom, not even a hundred percent sure how it works, but you press a button that you hope will allow him to hear you and say, “...yes?”

“Thou hast a visitor,” Withers’ voice crackles through the speaker, and your heart stops. “He is very wet,” he adds, and you slap a hand over your mouth to keep from laughing.

“I– Who is he? And why won’t you let him in?” You pause for a second before adding, “Is it… because he’s wet?”

“No, that is not my concern,” Withers clarifies. Then he pauses for a long moment. “His intentions… they are unclear,” he finally says.

“Will you please just let me in to see her, you batty old man!”

The voice is faint over the speaker, but it’s undeniably him. You scramble to press down the button to speak.

“Yes, Withers, please let him in, thank you,” you say in a rush. Your heart pounds as you quickly adjust your appearance, fixing your limp hair in the mirror next to your door. Then you wait. Is he taking the elevator or the stairs? How long would either option take? You grow antsy and you finally open the door to check the hallway only to find him standing on your welcome mat, fist raised mid-knock.

Without thinking, you grab his lapel and kiss him hard. Withers wasn’t lying when he said he’s wet. His lips are even colder than usual and the rain falls off his thin jacket in rivulets. You forcefully break the kiss and push him away, fuming.

“Astarion Ancunín, you did not just show up to my doorstep in the fucking rain like we live in some gods damned romcom!” you scold him, and he just stares at you with the most pathetic gleam in his wet, round eyes. 

“I don’t… sorry, what?” It seems like he was prepared for you to yell at him, but not about that specifically. You huff and roll your eyes, pulling him into your apartment dramatically.

“You’re getting water everywhere. Give me your jacket, take off your shoes, and tell me what the fuck happened,” you grumble, and his fingers fumble along his jacket buttons as he awkwardly kicks off his sopping shoes. You’re only taking a tiny bit of satisfaction at seeing him this flustered and uncomfortable. 

Scratch had hopped off the couch as soon as you opened the door, and now he trots up to Astarion, wagging his tail and lolling his tongue.

“You… got a dog?” he asks blankly, and you yank his jacket off his shoulders with maybe a little more force than necessary. 

“Yeah, I got lonely,” you spit, trying to sound angry, but just comes off as sad. He looks away from you, ashamed, and you sigh as you hang up his coat. “Please just… What happened? Did I cross a line, or something?” Your voice is very small, and he whirls on you suddenly.

“No!” he almost shouts, but he catches himself quickly. “No, please, I don’t want you to think that, not for a second. Can we sit?” He gestures to your couch and you follow his lead. Scratch jumps onto the couch between you, excited for double pets. You gently push him off and point to his bed.

“Not now, bud. Go lie down, me and… my good boy need to talk.” You smile to yourself and Astarion’s ears twitch self-consciously. You had planned to let him speak first but the words tumble out of you without any forethought. “Can I just say that I’m so sorry if I freaked you out, I never want to put you in an uncomfortable position like that, and I never even actually meant to say it in the first place.” 

Astarion looks ready to interrupt you but stops suddenly. “Oh, you– you didn’t? Well of course, I- obviously–” he splutters uncharacteristically before you clap your hands over your mouth, realizing your mistake.

“I mean, no, I did, like I wanted to say it, I just didn’t want to say it like that,” you clarify quickly, and Astarion visibly relaxes. He takes a deep breath and runs his hands through his wet hair, giving it an unusual slicked back look.

“For two centuries, my body did not belong to me. Not just as a thrall to Cazador,” he spits the name again, in almost the exact same tone as the last time. “But to his victims that I would need to… seduce in order to lure them back to his castle.” His eyes go unfocused and you’re not sure the best way to comfort him. After a moment’s hesitation, you settle your hand on his knee and rub small soothing circles with your thumb. He blinks as he returns to reality, his gaze shifting to you before the corners of his mouth turn up in the smallest hint of a smile.

“Astarion, I… I didn’t know. I’m so sorry,” you finally say, your voice breaking. He takes your hand and shakes his head.

“It’s hardly the worst thing that happened, and also not what I’m trying to say,” he says with a humorless laugh. “No, I mean after I gained my freedom, I grew very selfish. All that mattered was my comfort, my desires, my safety.”

“But that makes sense! You had everything ripped away from you, you deserved a little selfishness.” You get suddenly heated, almost like you’re defending Astarion against someone who isn’t there.

“Perhaps, but it was an easy way to grow lonely and bitter. After all, no one had ever looked out for me, so why should I waste my time caring about anyone else? I could harness my well-honed skills of seduction to get what I wanted with no regard to the consequences it might have on others. It was easy, and I was very good at it.” Astarion looks at you thoughtfully, his eyes roaming over every detail of your face, and you shrink back slightly under the intensity of his gaze.

“But you immediately saw right through me. That was a rare occurrence, and I was infatuated with the novelty. None of my old standbys worked on you. I needed to get creative in my methods to seduce you. Which led to perhaps my most ill-advised scheme yet.” He looks at you meaningfully, and you don’t need more than that to know that he’s talking about the night he took you to see Taming.

“When I realized my mistake, it should have been all too easy to move on, find a new mark. But I… simply didn’t want to. The thought of no longer spending time together felt awful. I felt awful.” He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose like he’s fighting off a headache. You chew on your lip, trying to figure out where he’s going with all of this. You open your mouth several times to ask a question, but close it as the words die on your tongue. Finally, after what seems like an eternity, he continues.

“So when you said… what you said,” he murmurs, still unable to repeat the words, “something in me… broke, I suppose. Maybe it was something that needed to break. But whatever it was, I lost control of it, and I was embarrassed. And, frankly, terrified. So I left.”

You look at him, his brow furrowed, wringing his hands in discomfort, his eyes darting around the room, and suddenly the whole situation strikes you as hysterical. The laughter bubbles out of you before you can stop it, and Astarion looks at you with concern while you cover your mouth with your hand and your shoulders begin to silently shake. When you finally manage to get your giggles under control, you stare at him with wild eyes.

“Astarion, I spent five years of my life with the worst fucking person imaginable. Never once did it feel like he cared about what I wanted. But I told him I loved him anyway, ‘cause I guess, I thought I was supposed to?” You grip his knee as your eyes begin to well with giddy tears. “And here you are, calling yourself selfish, when you care more about what I want than anyone else ever did.” You begin to laugh again, the absurdity overtaking you, and Astarion’s frown deepens. “You understood me so well that you crafted every single aspect of an entire evening and got the exact reaction that you expected. Was it fucked up? Yeah, completely! But it still showed me the lengths you were willing to go to give me something that I wanted. Something that I didn’t even know I wanted.”

You sit back and the tears begin to earnestly fall. Astarion stares at you helplessly as you laugh-cry uncontrollably, everything overtaking you at once. He finally decides to pull you into his lap and you bury your face into his chest, your tears falling onto his already damp shirt. 

You have no idea how long he holds you for, but eventually you regain control of your breath and mutter, “You idiot,” before pulling him into a kiss. You tangle your fingers into his wet hair, and his hands, unsteady at first, finally rest on your lower back. You break the kiss and hum against his lips, “You don’t need to say it back. And I’ll say it as much or as little as you want. Oh!” You suddenly leap off the couch and over to the kitchen to grab Astarion’s glasses which are still sitting on the counter, staring at you every morning as you gradually learn how to grind and press your own coffee.

You bring them over to him and straddle his lap as you awkwardly put them on his face, almost poking his eye out in the process. “Now why in the hells would a vampire with perfect vision need glasses?” Your tone is playfully accusatory.

“Would you believe me if I said that they make English academics take me more seriously?” he asks with a bashful grin. You brush your fingers through his hair, styling the front into his more standard swoop.

“I absolutely believe you, they’re weirdos.” You run a finger over the arm of his glasses and to his ear, and he shudders. “You used to wear your wire frame ones a lot more, what happened to those?”

“You told me that you liked these,” he replies like it’s the most obvious answer in the world, and your cheeks flush. “Why, do you like the other ones more?”

You wrap your arms around his neck and press your lips to his, letting your tongue swipe gently across his still chilled skin. “I like you,” you breathe, keeping your faces in close proximity. He rests his hands on your hips and pulls away, studying you carefully. Then, in a low voice, he says, “There’s a box in the lining of my jacket. Can you grab it for me, darling?”

Panic begins to set in. Box? Wait, no, hold on. You’ve barely gotten up the nerve to say I love you, you’re not ready for marriage, is he joking? Does he really think he’s in a romcom?

He watches your face cycle through emotions like a rolodex and he laughs. “It’s not a ring, don’t worry.”

“Gods above, Astarion, you can’t do that to me, I’m very fragile,” you say on a shaky exhale before standing up and retrieving his coat. You reach into the inner pocket and pull out a flat square box, around five or six inches in diameter. He stands and comes up behind you, resting his hands on your waist and peering over your shoulder.

You open the box and nestled in red satin is a thin leather choker with a dangling o-ring. You look back at him over your shoulder and his grin widens.

“Star, is this–” the words catch on your tongue as you turn back around to face him. He gently lifts the collar out of the box and slips it around your neck, his hands sliding into your hair once it’s fastened. He kisses you, softly at first, but soon you pull him into you, kissing him back hard. You deepen the kiss, slipping your tongue past his lips and puncturing it with his fang. A drop of blood mixes into your mouths and he tries to suppress a whimper, his hands tightening in your hair.

Then, almost as quickly as it escalated, he brings the kiss back to tender, cupping the back of your head gently. He turns you back around, facing the mirror for you to see your flushed and well-kissed face, your heavy-lidded eyes, and the thin strip of leather around your neck. You see your hair get brushed from your shoulder by a seemingly invisible force and feel his lips pressed against your ear.

“I love you, too.”

*~*~*

@viowolf @blueguildhunter @blissliz @genderearthquake @arianna-irwynarn @moochiepoo @duskrosecreatesstuff @imjiminiebean @queenofcarrotflowers-s @communistfries @0atcakes @alcidence @pursuitseternal @marlowethebard @preciouslittlebhaalbae @rigorssamsa @marvellover-12 @gylving @beepersteeper @wisteriaofthegraves

[cozzzynook]

Who do you think would be carrying in blitzbee relationship, and what are your headcannons for them?

I personally love Bee carrying their bitty.

My headcanons for the two

- Blitzwing lets Bumblebee know he won’t abandon him but he disappears for a long time before coming back. When he does Bee is already starting to show just a tad but its only because he knows what to look for. Their species carry for years, literally, so they have time to plan.

- Bee is actually more willing to leave his faction. He’s not dumb and he actually can think when he needs to. A sparkling changes a bot and Bee is no exception. He’s still fun, loving, likes pranks and messing with bots but he grows and lets his other traits shine far more. The traits he was embarrassed to reveal or let it be known he had.

- Blitzwing watches as the young reckless mech becomes less brash, less reactive to situations and more thoughtful. He’s quite clever and he’s pretty crafty about the well thought out lie he tells his prime on the night he plans to leave for good when Bee feels the medic Ratchet is suspecting something. Bee knew he couldn’t fool Ratchet for long he’s just happy he lasted a year without the other knowing.

- Bee says his goodbyes without the others knowing its a goodbye and takes a small pod and leaves Earths atmosphere before trashing the communicator and tracker after leaving a final message. He’ll return when the war is over and reveals he’s resigned. He doesn’t say why but Ratchet puts the pieces together. bee feels guilty and misses his friends a lot but his sparkling is more important.

- Bee and Blitzwing take time getting used to this new dynamic. Blitzwing isn’t used to Bee being quiet or reserved. Bee doesn’t know what to do and his emotions are all over the place. He goes from giving Blitzwing a lot of space because he doesn’t know what to do and doesn’t want to push to screaming crying in the berth when Blitzwing is out getting fuel and things they need for their new home on a neutral planet they found.

- neither are very good at dealing with not talking or touching the other and it all comes to a head when Blitzwing looks up to see Bee crying over the fuel he’s secretly craved that Blitzwing made to try making him happy. He doesn’t even remember getting up, all he realizes is that he’s holding his hummel who’s crying and struggling to vent while holding him. He’s not very good at soothing but curling around his hummel and petting his doorwings seemed to be the right thing to do.

- they have a very long talk after that. Insecurities and apologies on Bumblebee’s end for getting sparked, for his baffles failing, for Blitzwing being away from his faction and deemed a traitor. Blitzwing revealing he’s afraid to frag up his own sparkling with his fractured processor and the many terrible things he’s done in his past.

- They have so much reassurance they have to give the other while waiting for their sparkling to emerge. Blitzwing simply tells Bee how he believes he’ll make a good creator by how much he’s changed and matured almost effortlessly and yet he’s still the mech Blitzwing fell in love with.

- Bee tells Blitzwing that he’s never felt more loved and content, at home, than he has now with Blitzwing fixing their home, building things for their sparkling with such care and feeling his tanks when he thinks Bee is asleep. How careful he is not to disturb him and how he makes his favorite meals and cravings without fuss.

- bumblebee shows his affection by plopping his frame on Blitzwing’s lap and curling up falling asleep. He’s tired now and falling asleep on Blitzwing means they both get a good rest or Blitzwing uses his frame as a grounding tool and just rubs him or carries him around.

- Bee waits until Blitzwing is asleep to groom his wings or work on detailing them. He’s gotten extremely good at this and it helps Blitzwing have a full nights worth of sleep. It also helps remove almost seventy nine percent of his stress, anxiety and tension.

- they do things together in silence. They don’t seem like the couple that can spend a day together in comfortable silence but they can and do it often. Bee has come to appreciate silence but he does still wear headphones and listen to music. He doesn’t have much energy to burn since carrying makes him tired but when he does have the energy Blitzwing takes him out. They’ll go roller wheeling or flying while Bee burns rubber and max’s out his speed meter.

- they’re that we hold each other in the wash racks under the steaming coolant couple. They spend a lot of time in the wash racks reconnecting to each other physically and mentally.

- bee can actually cook pretty well and so can Blitzwing, they take turns cooking but Blitzwing likes to have Bee sitting beside him while he cooks.

- blitzwing loves listening to Bee sing to their sparkling when he has a heavy carrying bump. Its still early but the bitty is taking more after Blitzwing than Bee. The med bot they’ve been seeing has shown proof Bee isn’t in danger but he will be on bed rest earlier than most carriers.

- they talk to their sparkling with Blitzwing first thing in the morning and bumblebee throughout the day and both of them at night.

- their new life still feels odd but its a welcome odd they don’t want to give up. Bee still misses his friends but he would never risk his sparkling or future conjunx.

[merrybloomwrites]

Cheese is a Good Thing (Larry x Reader)

Summary: Attending your first Louis Tomlinson concert doesn't exactly go as planned. A trash can full of cheese and a chance encounter on a tour bus lead to a night you'll never forget.

Content Warning: smut, threesome (m, m, f) p-in-v-sex, protected sex, light dom/sub dynamic, one night stand

Word Count: 5.2K

Authors Note: This was supposed to be a very silly oneshot inspired by me actually almost falling in a trashcan full of cheese in order to move out of Oli's way at a concert. And then the devil took over and now it's possibly the smuttiest thing I've written?

I also know that I said I was taking a hiatus from posting, but I already had this started and people expressed interest in Louis x Harry x Reader so I wanted to get one story out there. Hope you enjoy!

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“Y/N, you know I don’t like when you go to things like this by yourself.” 

You roll your eyes at your mothers voice, glad that this is just a phone call so she can’t see the gesture. 

“Mom, I’m almost 30 years old. I’m smart. I know how to take care of myself.”

“I know. Still makes me nervous. Call me when you get home okay?”

“You know you’ll be asleep before Louis even gets on stage,” you reply. If there’s one thing about your mother that’s never changed, it’s her habit of going to bed early. 

“I wish we’d set up that app on my phone so I can see where you are,” she says. 

“We did set it up,” you state. “You just don’t know how to use it.”

“Oh, that’s right. How do I find you again?”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes again at the question, since you’ve taught her how to use Find My Friends about one hundred times.

“I’ve really got to get going, parking is going to be tough so I don’t want to be late.”

“Of course, okay. Have fun and be safe!”

“Thanks mom, I will. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

“You’d better, I want to hear all about it!”

You almost laugh at that, since your mother literally has zero idea who Louis Tomlinson is, but you appreciate the effort. After a final goodbye you hang up the call. 

Before leaving, you glance in the mirror one last time to make sure everything is in order. Your hair is pulled up in a ponytail, your make up looks perfect, and your simple shorts and tank top sit just right. It’s a hot day, the middle of summer, and the last thing you want is to overheat.

The drive to the venue doesn’t take long, as it’s only a couple of towns over. It’s a smaller place, basically a big parking lot that got turned into a space for concerts. After waiting in line, you finally make your way inside to find a spot. It’s all general admission so you can choose to be anywhere.

The front right by the stage is already completely filled. You could get into the middle of the crowd, but you’d rather hang towards the back. While you do love Louis, it’s still broiling hot out and being surrounded by people doesn’t sound like a fun time.

Towards the back of the space is a large tent which seems to be the control center. Sound and lighting techs are working from there, as well as security personnel. There are metal gates around the tent, with an opening on the side for the staff to come and go.

This is where you station yourself. You’re outside the fence, just behind the opening. There’s a trash can behind you which essentially means no one will be able to press closely to you. Plus, if you lean over towards the fence you get a less obstructed view of the stage.

All in all, you think you’ve secured yourself a pretty good spot. You have a great time listening to the openers, and then Giant Rooks leaves the stage. It’s almost time for you to watch Louis perform live for the first time in your life.

There’s activity in the tent, and you see a man who looks kind of familiar walking out of it rolling some equipment. You try to move back a bit more to be out of his way, but the cart he’s moving still bumps into you.

It doesn’t hurt you, but it does cause you to lose your balance. And honestly, you have the worst coordination, and even worse luck. So it’s no surprise to you when you fall backwards and land not on the ground, but in the garbage can. 

There’s something warm and sticky, and you vaguely remember seeing lots of people eating nachos. Cheese. You’ve landed in basically a vat of cooling liquid cheese. Well, that’s unfortunate. 

“Holy shit, Are you okay? I'm so sorry.” A strongly accented and very worried sounding voice asks you from above. You look up and see the same man, now realizing that you recognize him from Louis’ documentary. It’s Oli, his best friend and manager. And he’s just sent you flying into a trash can. 

“I’m okay,” you reply, more shocked than anything. 

“Here,” he says as he thrusts his hand towards you. “Let me get you out of there.”

You place your hand in his and he helps pull you out until you’re standing in front of him. 

“Seriously, Are you okay?” He asks. You take a moment to assess if you have any injuries before reassuring him that you are not hurt. 

“I am literally covered in cheese sauce though,” you add with a laugh. 

“Shit, again I am so sorry. Here, come with me and we’ll get you cleaned up and in some new clothes.”

You decide to trust this man, though you really don’t have a reason to. Maybe your mom was right to be worried about you going to a concert alone, seeing as you’ve landed yourself in quite a predicament. 

“You can rinse off in the shower on the bus and there should probably be some clothes you can have. I can grab you a merch shirt to wear if you’d like.”

“Uhm, yea anything not coated in cheese would be perfect,” you reply. 

He leads you behind the stage and over to the buses. “I share this one with Louis and a couple guys from the band. They’re due to be getting ready with the sound techs so the bus should be empty,” Oli explains, pointing to the bus at the end. When you reach it he opens the door gesturing for you to enter first. 

As it turns out, Oli was wrong. Because the bus certainly is not empty. 

“Oh shit!” You exclaim as you process the sight in front of you before you quickly turn to face the other way. Oli walks into the bus and first notices the wide eyes on your face before looking behind you. And what he sees behind you is an image you’ll never erase from your brain. 

Because what you’d just walked in on is Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles shirtlessly making out on the couch. 

“Oli you better not have brought this girl in here to-”

“To do exactly what you and Harry were doing? Obviously not,” Oli replies. 

“Then explain why she’s here.”

“I accidentally pushed her into a garbage bin full of cheese sauce.”

You’re still facing away from them meaning they can easily see the mess on your clothes and skin. There’s a rustling sound and then Louis says, “You can turn around love, I promise we’re decent now.”

You do as instructed and see that the pair are now wearing shirts and are seated next to each other, rather than with Harry straddling Louis' lap like he was when you’d entered. 

“Did he really knock you into a trash bin?” Harry asks. 

“Yea, he was moving a cart with equipment and it bumped into me,” you explain. 

“Mate, you are an idiot,” Louis says with a laugh. 

“In his defense, it is pretty difficult to move through the crowd out there,” you clarify. 

“Well, it doesn't change the fact that you obviously came here to clean up and find new clothes, right?” Louis asks. 

“Exactly,” you answer. 

“What’s your name,” Harry asks. 

“I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you guys,” you reply. 

“I’m going to grab her one of the merch t-shirts, do you think there’s any shorts in here that’ll fit her?” Oli says. 

“I think I have something that will work,” Louis replies. 

“And bring back an NDA with you,” Harry adds. Oli just nods in understanding and walks out, closing the door behind him. 

Harry turns to you and says, “I hope you understand about the NDA. It’s not that we don’t trust you but we’ve been keeping this secret for a while. We’d really like to know that you won’t go around telling people about what you saw.”

“Oh, I totally get that,” you reply. A blush paints your cheeks as you think about what you witnessed. 

The two boys watch your reaction and share a look with each other. They seem to communicate silently for a moment before Harry takes a step towards you. 

“Did you like what you saw?” He asks. His tone isn’t judgemental, nor is it angry. In fact, it seems to be teasing, or almost hopeful. 

“I mean, I promise I looked away the second I realized. I really didn’t see anything,” you answer. 

“Would you like to?” Louis asks. 

This has your mind basically going offline. Did Louis Tomlinson really just ask if you want to see him and Harry Styles make out? Or maybe even do more than that? 

“Aw, babe, she’s blushing. I think he wants to join us,” Harry says to Louis, in a voice certainly meant to make you squirm. 

“Oh you’re right, love, she definitely wants to,” Louis replies. 

He walks forward, until he’s standing right in front of you. His hands move to cup your face and he asks, “Would it be alright if I kissed you? Wouldn’t want to leave you out of the fun.”

You nod, but he gives you a look, silently telling you to use your words. “Yes, it’s alright,” you confirm. And then his lips are on you. They’re plush, yet demanding, and in no time his tongue is breaching your lips, caressing the inside of your mouth. 

As quickly as it began, the kiss ends. It leaves you breathless and dizzy. Louis steps back and you feel like you’ll fall to the floor, except now Harry is there, his hands on your hips. After once again asking your consent, he leans in for a kiss of his own. He’s softer, gentler and yet you’re still melting in his arms after just a moment of his lips pressing against yours. 

He pulls away and moves back, giving you space. And not a moment too soon because a second later Oli is reentering the bus holding a bag. 

“Lou, everything’s ready, time to go,” he says as he hands you the bag. 

“Got it, I’ll meet you out there in a second,” Louis replies.

“You’d better,” Oli lightheartedly threatens before leaving once again. 

“Listen,” Louis begins. “You know about the two of us now. And you enjoyed what you saw earlier. And those kisses, well that’s just the start of what we can do. We're staying at a hotel here in town tonight. If you’d like to join us, the invitation is open. Think about it and tell us after the show, okay?”

You look at both of them and see their serious expressions before saying a quiet, “Okay.”

“I have to run before Oli kills me,” Louis says, tuning to kiss Harry goodbye. 

“Break a leg babe, I’ll make sure Y/N has what she needs and get her out to watch you,” Harry says. Louis exits the bus and Harry turns to you, adding, “I have a spot we can watch from, the view is perfect. But you need to not be covered in cheese. The bathrooms over here if you want to rinse off and change.”

Harry leads you to the small bathroom, shows you how to use the shower, and hands you a towel before giving you some privacy. You undress and hop in the shower, quickly rinsing off all grime from the trash can. You wrap yourself in the towel and look in the bag of clothes, realizing it’s only shirts. No bottoms. Crap. You’d gotten distracted and forgot to get a pair from Louis before he left. 

One glance at your shorts proves there’s no way to salvage them for the evening. After making sure the towel covers you enough, you open the door and poke your head out. 

“Hey Harry?” You call, hoping he’s still nearby. 

“Yea?” He answers and walks around the corner to see you. When he sees your undressed state there’s an irrefutable look of lust on his face. He quickly schools his expression and says, “Need something?”

“Uhm, Louis was supposed to grab me some shorts?” You say uncertainly. 

“Oh right! Let me get something, hold on.”

He’s back a second later handing you a pair of shorts, and you change speedily. Once you finish you start hearing Louis’ intro. You shove your dirty clothes into the bag and Harry leads you out of the bus. 

There’s a building just next to the pit that he walks into. The two of you go upstairs to a room with windows. They’re obviously tinted so no one can see in, but you guys can see literally everything from here. There’s speakers as well so the sound is perfect. 

Other people are in the room, people who must be close to Louis in some way because none of them are shocked by Harry being there. The show is amazing, Louis does a fantastic job, and you’re so enthralled you almost forget about their offer from earlier. 

Almost. 

When the show ends, the room clears out, but Harry stays there and asks you to wait with him. A few minutes later Louis enters, literally glistening in sweat. He rushes to Harry, and they meet in a dirty kiss. You audibly gulp at the sight, your body temperature rising. 

They turn to you then, and Louis asks, “Did you make a decision?”

“We don’t want to pressure you,” Harry says, and Louis nods seriously beside him. “But we’d love for you to join us if you want.”

You hesitate for a moment. This would be new territory for you. Never before had you slept with two men, let alone two famous men. 

And then you stop debating. Because really, you’d be crazy to turn down this offer. “I want to,” you reply, happy to hear how sure and confident you sound. 

“Well then, our ride is just downstairs,” Louis says and he leads you both out to a waiting car. 

The driver asks no questions as the three of you slide into the backseat. You’re squished in the middle, and highly aware of each point of contact you have with the boys on either side of you. It’s scary, but mostly, it’s exhilarating. You find yourself anxious for the ride to end, eager to get somewhere private. 

You enter the hotel through the back door and take a service elevator to the top floor. Louis’ suite is immaculate, and you’d normally be exploring every inch. But you’re not the only one antsy to get things going. 

As soon as the door latches shut, Louis is pressed against your back, his arms wrapping around your waist and his half hard cock obvious where it pushes on your bum. Harry stands in front of you,  his hand going to your face, but he doesn’t lean in. Not until Louis tells him to, and then his mouth immediately finds yours. 

You can tell there’s definitely a slight power dynamic here, and Louis seems to be in charge. Which is more than fine by you. Truthfully you’re a bit out of your depth and would love for someone to lead you here. 

It’s easy to see that Harry was holding back during the kiss earlier. There’s no more hesitance, and while he may be submissive when it comes to Louis, he definitely has a dominant side if the way he takes control of the kiss is anything to go by. 

Harry curls his tongue around yours at the same moment as Louis, now fully hard, grinds against you. The two sensations together pull a needy moan from your mouth as your body goes lax. Louis tightens his grip and Harry moves closer in order to keep you upright. 

“My turn,” Louis says and Harry immediately removes his lips and moves his hands away from your face. One of Louis’ finds your chin and he grips it lightly in order to turn your head to the side. He crashes his lips against yours and Harry’s hands start to explore your body. 

“Please,” you whimper out, unsure what you need but knowing that it’s just more. 

“Sound so pretty when you beg,” Louis says. 

“And while you do look fantastic in my husband's merch,” Harry says, “how about we get you out of it for now?”

You nod, loving the sound of getting rid of the clothes that now feel unpleasant on your sensitive and overheated skin. Harry slips your shirt over your head as Louis shimmies your shorts off, leaving you in your simple bra and panties. Both boys then remove their own shirts, and you pause a moment to take in their bare torsos. Their skin feels so smooth as you run your fingertips over their newly exposed tattoos. 

Your hands continue moving south, until they glide over both of the boys' hard cocks, causing the sweetest sounds to ring out. Emboldened by their noises of desire, you slowly sink to your knees. 

“Please,” you say again, this time clearly knowing what you want. Harry and Louis know as well, and waste no time removing the rest of their clothing. Your mouth waters at the two beautiful cocks as they’re revealed to you. While Louis is a tad longer, Harry is definitely wider. But truthfully, you have no doubt that they both would satisfy you immensely. 

You start by wrapping a hand around each of them, gripping just firm enough to give a hint of pleasure. You lean to Louis first, licking his tip before moving to do the same for Harry.  You feel them shiver in pleasure and decide to take it further. Turning back to Louis, you wrap your lips around him, moving down a couple inches until he brushes the back of your throat. You pull back slightly and begin to move up and down, using your hand for the base that doesn’t fit. 

When his moans grow louder you pull off, turning to Harry and repeating the process. Your lips stretch around him, and you feel more arousal drip into your already wet underwear. After a minute, you’re being pulled to your feet and both boys kiss you messily before maneuvering so you’re lying on your back in bed. 

“Harry, why don’t you show her how much we appreciate what she just did for us,” Louis says. Once again, Harry doesn’t think, just acts. You jolt at the feeling of his lips pressing a kiss to your clit over your panties.

“Jesus, love, you’re fucking drenched. Lou, you have to see this.”

Next you feel Louis’ fingers moving along the gusset of your underwear before he says, “You’re just gushing baby. Why don’t we get this off, they’re ruined anyway, won’t do you much good.” 

You nod vigorously, wanting him to remove them and hoping he’ll do the same with your bra so you can be completely free, completely bare in front of them. You’re in luck, because as he slowly slips the material down your legs, Harry takes care of your bra for you, leaning down to wrap his lips around each breast in turn. 

“She’s ready for you,” Louis says. “Switch with me.” 

Harry does so, and he immediately begins eating you out. It starts gentle, but just for a moment. A couple kisses to your thighs quickly turns into him running his tongue along your folds and then drawing circles on your clit. 

He teases your hole more than once, but never enters which drives you wild. He continues working you up while Louis takes over playing with your breasts, kissing and placing light bites to your nipples. That’d never brought you pleasure before but mixing with what Harry’s doing, it has you seeing stars in no time at all. 

Together the two of them bring you to your first orgasm of the night. It crashes over you in waves, and leaves you moaning and thrashing on the bed. 

You try to catch your breath, but they barely give you a break before switching spots and starting the process over again. But this time Louis does more than tease your hole. His tongue breaches your entrance first before he replaces it with two fingers. 

They curl just right and he instantly finds that perfect spot inside of you. His mouth moves to your clit, sucking it in while his fingers continue their ministrations inside you. 

Meanwhile, Harry’s hands are roaming your body, leaving tingly hot sensations over every bit of skin they find. He’s also murmuring in your ear, his warm breath blowing on your neck as he says things like, “Love those pretty noises you’re making for us,” and,  “Just listen to how wet you are,” and, “Gonna be a good girl for us? Come again, all over Lou’s hand?”

The combination of those words being said in Harry’s low, gruff voice, and Louis fingers and tongue working you up just right has you hurtling into your next orgasm. You cry out again and it rolls through you, even more intense than the last one. 

“Fuck,” Harry says. “You just squirted, why didn’t you tell us you could do that? I might’ve worked harder, which you’d gushed on my face like that.”

“I didn’t- I what? I’ve never done that before. I didn’t know.” Your mind is fuzzy but you try to reply. You can’t believe that just happened. And they liked it? They weren’t grossed out?

You must’ve said that last question out loud because Louis is up by your face a moment later saying, “Not at all. That was one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen. Think you have one more in you? Can you take Harry in that perfect cunt?”

“I think so,” you reply, laying bonelessly on the bed. 

“You think? Do you want to stop here? We don’t want to push you too far,” Louis says, his voice gentler now. 

“No! I don’t want to stop. I can take it, I promise,” you reply. You don’t know what’s gotten into you, but the idea of stopping before they’ve both come has you feeling almost guilty. You want them to feel the same kind of pleasure they already gave you. 

“Okay, just let us know if it’s too much and we’ll stop,” he says before stepping away for a moment. 

He comes back with two foil packets and a small bottle. He and Harry both open a packet and you watch as they each slide a condom down their lengths. 

“Lou’s gonna fuck me while I fuck this pretty pussy, does that sound good to you?” Harry says. 

“Sounds perfect,” you answer. 

You’re still laying on your back, definitely earning a pillow princess title but everyone seems to be fine with that. Harry’s hands gently grip your thighs and he pushes your legs open wide, kneeling in between to get into position. But instead of lining up with your entrance, he gets on his hands and knees. 

You realize that they’d opened you up already, but Harry needs prep too before he can take Louis. You expect Louis to finger him open, but gasp along with Harry when Louis pulls a plug out of Harry instead. You realize that’s been there all night, was probably put in shortly before you walked in on them earlier. 

The thought sends another wave of desire through you, and while a second ago you weren’t sure how much more you could take, now you're desperate to be filled. 

“You ready baby girl?” Louis asks, coming over to press another kiss to your lips. The gentle peas of his lips to yours settles you, and when he pulls away there’s a calm smile on your face and you reply, “I’m ready.”

“Okay. Harry, show our girl what you can do.”

A moment later you feel Harry’s tip at your entrance. You thought they’d opened you up before, but you must’ve underestimated Harry’s size, because you feel each second of him gently pushing inside. It’s a pleasant pain that quickly shifts to only pleasure. 

“One more thing,” Louis says before lifting your hips to slide a pillow under you. Harry moves as well, and you moan as he hits even deeper inside you. This also puts him in a better position to take Louis from behind. 

You feel, more than see, when Louis slides into Harry. He thrusts gently inside you, and leans down to bite your neck while letting out the neediest whine you’ve ever heard come from a man. It’s also possibly the hottest sound you’ve ever heard from a man. 

They fall into a rhythm, controlled by Louis, and the three of you fall speechless. The room is filled with a cacophony of moans and whimpers, as well as the noises being made by your bodies connecting over and over. 

You come first, your walls squeezing around Harry’s cock, pulling him in impossibly deeper. Your body feels almost numb, somewhat tingly, and your brain grows even fuzzier. It’s like there’s a disconnect between the two. It’s a weird feeling, but not unpleasant. 

Harry’s thrusts start to grow sloppy and he tucks his head into your neck as he comes. You feel the pulsing of his cock inside you, and his moans vibrate against your neck. Even after he’s finished, he remains inside and you can feel the way Louis is moving in him as it jostles you as well. 

Louis whines grow higher until he stills, holding himself flush to Harry before finally pulling out. Harry slides out of you as well, slowly and gently, knowing you’re probably sore after three rounds with them. 

They lay on either side of you, each wrapping and arm over your waist. After you all catch your breath Louis asks, “You okay love?”

A smile spreads on your face as you reply, “I’m so, so okay. That was amazing.”

“Glad you liked it,” Harry says. 

You continue to bask in the afterglow until Harry finally states, “We should probably get cleaned up.”

You suddenly become aware of how sticky your legs are and reply, “That’s probably a good idea. Any chance you have spare sheets?” Your mind and body are fully reconnected now and you can feel how soaked the bed is under you. 

“Better yet, there’s a second bedroom. Completely unused bed in there,” Louis informs you. 

He gets up, reaching a hand out, helping you stand as well. The three of you end up taking a shower and they gently clean you up, pressing only the gentlest kisses to any marks they left on your skin. 

After drying off you end the night in a soft, comfortable bed, Harry on one side and Louis on the other. They whisper praises, telling you how good you were, how much they enjoyed their time with you. You fall asleep feeling more satisfied than you can remember ever being before. 

Soft light filters through curtains the next morning when you wake up. Harry is still in bed, awake and scrolling on his phone. 

“Good morning,” you say. 

“Good morning. How did you sleep?” He asks.

“Wonderfully. How about you?”

“Best rest I;v;e had in weeks,” he answers with a soft smile. “Lou’s just getting everything ready. We need to leave in an hour to get to the next venue,” he informs you. 

“Oh, yea, I should probably be going.” No sense dragging it out anymore, now that the night is over. 

“Of course not. You can’t go until you’ve had breakfast with us. I mean, we didn’t buy you dinner before getting you into bed, the least we can do is get you some breakfast after,” he says with a laugh, his dimples showing and making you blush. “It should be here soon. We didn’t know what you’d like so we got a few options.” 

“Thanks, that’s really kind of you.” 

Harry pulls you in and you relax in his embrace until Louis pops into the room saying “Food’s here.”

You move to get out of bed and then realize that you’re not wearing anything. Louis notices your predicament and disappears again before returning with the other t-shirt Oli had gotten you the previous evening, as well as a clean pair of boxers and shorts and your own bra. He leaves again giving you privacy to get dressed, which you do quickly. 

You join them for breakfast, happy to see they've gotten pancakes, your favorite. Louis also pours you a cup of tea, making it a perfect start to the day. 

“Oh, by the way, where is your car parked?” Louis asks. 

Truthfully you’d forgotten you had a car. Had forgotten life outside this hotel exists. So you pull up your phone and look at the dropped pin you’d placed last night to remember when you’d parked. 

“It’s just a few blocks from here,” you say, showing him the screen. 

“Ok perfect, a member of my team will be here in a minute to grab your key and pick it up to bring it to the hotel.”

“Oh that’s alright, I don’t mind walking.” Though as you say it, you realize it’d be a walk of shame, which you’re not thrilled about.

“I insist. Don’t want you walking that far, especially not after last night,” he adds with a cheeky smile. You blush for the thousandth time, knowing exactly what he’s thinking about. 

Someone does come to grab your key, effectively ending the walk down memory lane. The three of you chat for a bit, the boys asking you questions about yourself before Louis shifts awkwardly and says, “I noticed the NDA in the bag when I was grabbing your shirt. I truly hate to ask but-”

“You don’t have to ask. Of course I’ll sign.”

“Thank you love, it just gives us peace of mind.”

“I’m more than happy to.” You promptly get up to grab the papers and a pen, handing it to Louis once completed. “I really enjoyed spending the night with you guys. And not just the sex, but everything else too. You really take aftercare seriously,” you say with an awkward laugh. 

“Well, we do pride ourselves on being gentlemen,” Harry replies, flashing you another dazzling smile. 

Louis receives a text a minute later and says, “They’ve got your car downstairs, and we really should be getting going.”

You all stand up and they each pull you in for a hug. 

“I think I speak for both of us when I say we really enjoyed last night,” Harry says. 

Louis adds, “Absolutely. We’re so glad you agreed to be with us.”

“Well I’m just happy falling into a trash can full of cheese actually had a good outcome.” 

They both laugh at that before each giving you one more kiss and saying goodbye. 

You drive home in a daze and spend the day just thinking about the events of the previous night. You call your mother as promised, telling her a mostly fabricated story of your night which to her knowledge, ended with you arriving home before midnight.  

And when you watch a livestream of Louis’ show that evening and hear him mention how much he loves nacho cheese, you know it’s his way of saying he’s thinking of you. 

You know you’ll remember that night for a long time, and hope they will as well.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

AN: Thanks for reading, I'd love to hear what you thought about this first Larry x reader story! Requests are open if there's anything you'd want to see in the future

[radiowallet]

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Pairing: Dieter Bravo x Marcus Moreno Summary: Dieter takes Marcus to a party in the valley. WC: 4.5K Warnings: 18+ MDNI Sexual content. Exclusive M/M dynamics. Written in third-person POV, male protagonists. Anal sex, dirty talk, kissing, cum play, semi-public sex. Small angsty moments. Yearning. So much yearning. AU Marcus Moreno (no wife, no Missy). A lot of purple prose and waxing poetic.

A/N: Hi, hello, it's been a very very long time since I've shared any writing here. I don't have any good excuses other than real-life stressors, mental health and anxiety, and the overall stress of being on Tumblr really really got to me. I'm trying to ease my way back in. Slowly. I've really enjoyed catching up on all the amazing fics you guys have been writing. Thank you to everyone, still here or otherwise. Even when I was off dealing with irl stuff, I could feel the support.

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For any new writing follow @radiowallet-writes and turn on notifications.

Marcus chewed at his nail bed, surveying the house from the backseat of his Uber. It was hardly the first time he’d pulled up to the Sherman Oaks home. He was comfortable with the routine at this point. Tapping in the code for the front gate with practiced ease. The same one Dieter had scribbled onto the back page of a forgotten script after that first night together in New York City, his cell ringing incessantly from his back pocket, a car waiting down the curb to whisk him away. Marcus swore he could still taste the mint and menthol on the actor’s breath when he stepped in close and pressed the paper into his hands, kissing him until his toes curled. 

“Please say you’ll come visit.”

After that, it had been one strategically planned visit after the other. Marcus was almost mathematical in his process, arranging flights out west around his patrol schedule, switching shifts, and taking on extra duties just to rationalize the time away. Burning the candle at both ends but not caring even in the slightest, happy to run his tank on empty. He’d drive all fucking night if it meant more time with Dieter. 

So he took to the task with a vigilant level of focus, texting details and arrival times, the actor responding with a barrage of emojis, always ending with a heart. 

Marcus liked the way the little pixelated picture made his stomach flip.

Once together, it became less of a routine and more of a dance, the two of them falling into an easy rhythm that Marcus had no desire to predict. They would lose themselves in each other, wrapping tightly around the other, the heat impossible to turn away from. There were late nights and early mornings, the color of the sun replacing the hours on the clock. Sometimes, he would give up on sleep all together, content to match the actor’s eccentricities, watching Dieter move from room to room, minute to minute, until the other man would return to his arms. 

But as each visit came to a close, Marcus would find himself falling back on easy habits, his mind already making plans and rearranging schedules, focusing on that instead of the overbearing weight of goodbye. 

In the middle of one farewell, Dieter had grinned and nipped at his bottom lip, a tease curling around the curve of his cheek. 

“Don’t worry so much about the vigilante shit, sweet boy. You’re welcome anytime.”

Marcus had frowned at that, but Dieter was unfazed, humming an off-key pop song under his breath before giving one more piece of advice. 

Be spontaneous. 

Marcus had gnawed on those two words the entire plane ride home, the concept both enticing and diabolical at once. He imagined all the ways he would have spoiled Dieter if they lived in the same zip code. Spur of the moment cups of coffee, flowers just because, nights in and out and everything in between. But even those daydreams felt out of reach, Marcus unable to let go of the need to control everything. Everything. Everything that he possibly could. 

Except Deiter Bravo. 

The actor was bound for overseas, a six-month shoot looming ahead, lonely and large. They had spent the weekend before much the same way they had any other. Twisted together, sweat and cum and lips and hands pressed into bare skin, ignoring the ticking of traitorous time. Cruel miles were taking the other man away from him, and Marcus couldn’t stop the swell of jealous fear flaring inside his heart. 

Would he even be missed when the whole luminous, wonderful, exciting world was waiting for Dieter on the other side of the tarmac? 

A deep cough from the front seat dragged him back to the present, and before he could second guess himself again, Marcus climbed out of the car, tapping out five stars with one hand and grabbing his overnight bag with the other. He hesitated, just the smallest moment of debate, before he knocked, three sharp raps on the large black door. There was a shout from inside, Dee’s voice alerting someone he would get it, a breath and a curse as the lock was fiddled with, and then they were standing face to face after only 39 hours apart. 

Dieter seemed shocked to see him and he didn't bother hiding it, his jaw dropping in time with his arms, the shirt he had been buttoning hanging open to reveal his bare chest. Marcus couldn’t help but steal a glance of tan skin and a soft belly, licking his lips in anticipation. When Dee called his attention back up, the other man was smiling wide. 

“This is…”

“A surprise?”

“A great fucking surprise.” 

It was almost a blur after that. Fumbling hands and broken laughter as they came together in a messy kiss. They managed to make it up the stairs and down the hall, Dieter’s bed barely breaking their fall. 

Marcus wanted to take his time, should have been taking his time, but Dieter’s voice was in his ear, thanking him — thanking him? — for showing up tonight. Thanking him and begging him and pressing salt-slicked lips into the curve of his neck. And before he could breathe the other man in, savor the moment that was coming out of nowhere, they stripped away each and every layer, Dieter panting beneath the hurried press of Marcus’s fingers deep inside. 

Sooner rather than later, Marcus was sliding into the other man one final time, their hips flush and their fingers laced. He came with a groan, face buried into the dip of Dieter’s neck, while the actor sunk his teeth into his shoulder, the pleasure burning away into the edges of pain. Only after they both found their breath, bodies pliant and limbs loose, did Marcus find his voice. 

“Do you want to order in?”

Dieter didn’t say anything and Marcus craned his neck up to peek past the other man’s chin and catch a glimpse of him worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. 

“Did you already eat? Because that’s okay.”

“No…,” he started, fingers tracing a line of muscle from the top of his shoulder and back around, lingering along the teeth marks he left there only minutes earlier. “I haven’t eaten. I…there’s this thing I have to….well, not have to. I was getting ready for it when you knocked—“

“Dee?”

“There’s a party,” he finally blurted out, eyes finding the swing of the ceiling fan above, a grimace pulling his lips into a jagged line, a deep shade of pink settling on his cheeks. 

Marcus leaned up on his elbow, watching the small battle of wills dragging across Dieter’s face. He thought maybe he should try to comfort the other man but he was suddenly anxious, those creeping realities working their way up his spine. 

“A party?”

“Yeah, it’s sort of this farewell thing my friends are throwing,” he explained, not needing to. “Really, just an excuse to get blitzed.” 

The lack of eye contact suddenly made much more sense. 

“You wanted to go.”

It wasn’t a question. 

Dieter was up and over him in a flash, one large hand bending around Marcus’s jaw, thumb pressing the seam of his lips shut. “I didn’t want to be alone.” 

Marcus pursed his lips, the pad of Dieter’s thumb still pressing firm. He felt the callous from where Dee cheated his paintbrush, a perfect spot to push a kiss before pulling away. 

“You want to go.”  

Dieter searched his face, eyes wide and cheeks flushed, trying to pull apart the determined set of Marcus’s jaw. When he came up empty-handed, he fell back to his elbows with an exaggerated sigh, one large hand still cupping the cut of the hero’s cheekbone, keeping his thumb close enough to touch. 

“I want to go with you.” 

———————

Marcus smiled from where he was leaning against the doorway, watching Dieter rummage through his ridiculously sized closet, a string of muttered musings leaving him as he pulled item after item off of hangers. The Heroic had slipped back into his jeans and t-shirt once the decision had been made that they would attend the party together, not really packing (or owning) anything that fit the L.A. scene. 

He was two steps towards the bathroom, intent on fixing his messy hair when Dee stopped him with a strong grip on his elbow. 

“Leave it,” he teased, a quick kiss pressed to his lips, fingers tugging at one of the sweat-slicked curls. 

Now he was standing behind him, sliding a stone-washed jean jacket up one arm and then the other, one more kiss, this time gifted to the back of his neck. The jacket hangs a bit loose around him, Marcus guessing a mix between the cut and style, and Dieter’s broader frame both at play. He couldn’t help himself, tugging the collar to his nose and inhaling deeply, the smell of weed and cologne and something subtle sweet filling his lungs. 

He felt Dieter’s eyes, watching him carefully in the reflection of the mirror, his hands finding the dip of his waist beneath the bulky fabric, gripping hard then soft, one, two, three times. Marcus took in the pair of them — sex-mussed hair and bright blush on him, wild eyes, and a teasing smile on Dieter — and he suddenly had no desire to go to this party. Any party. 

No. 

All he wanted was for Dieter to pull this jacket off the same way he had so easily slipped it on, and drag him back down to the safety of the mattress. 

“Come on, sweet boy,” he hummed, the hook of his nose tracing the shell of Marcus’s ear. “Sooner we get there, sooner I get to take you home.”

The word followed Marcus down the stairs and out to the car, his stomach flipping each time he let the meaning of it roll around inside his head.

Home?

———————

Driving in L.A. was an experience in and of itself. Marcus had made his own attempts, managing to find a rhythm in the few times he had been sent out to the west coast on assignment. It wasn’t much different than driving in any other city, as long as you were prepared to sit in what felt like endless hours of traffic. Of course, Marcus had the pleasure of abusing side streets and off-ramps when it came down to emergency situations. 

Driving with Dieter behind the wheel was a different experience altogether. He seemed unfettered by speed limits or traffic lights, one hand on the wheel, the other wrapped around Marcus’s knee, singing along to the song on the radio but only getting about half the words right. If not for his powers and years of honing his reflexes, Marcus would have maybe suggested he do the driving when he was in town. 

As it was, it was nice to settle into the plush leather seat and listen to Dieter’s slightly off-key voice, his hand squeezing Marcus’s knee in time with the beat of the music. He leaned back and closed his eyes, weighing the risk of asking Dieter to just keep driving. Maybe if they kept going, all night and all day, they could avoid the inevitable goodbyes looming in the distance.

———————

The last time Marcus and Dieter had been at a party together, they had only ever heard of each other, recognizing names and faces from newspapers and movie screens. They didn’t know any different than what was said in headlines or plastered on billboards, rumors and hearsay coloring in their opinions of one another. How many assumptions had Marcus made about the actor upon that first meeting? That he was pompous. Self-centered. Selfish. An addict. An asshole. A monster. 

Or maybe Marcus was afraid that was how Dieter saw him. 

The monster in the night. The shadow that lurked in the corner. Fighting away the evils of the world, the palms of his hands so very dirty with blood and secrets and violence. Living in the between of good and bad and never knowing where he really stood.

But when their eyes met across that darkened alley, only the glow of Dieter’s cigarette casting shadows between them, those half-truths and packaged lies that Marcus took for granted started to fall away. Somewhere between their small secrets and one smokey kiss goodnight, he started to learn who Dieter Bravo really was. 

This party was different in so many ways than that first elegant affair. Gone was the light classical music, replaced with something loud, a heavy bass and fast lyrics. Bowls of chips instead of passed trays. Stiff black and white was traded in for soft denim, Dieter’s scent surrounding Marcus from room to room. They entered the party together, no longer separate, no longer strangers, and instead more.

So much more.

Dieter’s arm was wrapped around Marcus’s waist, holding him close by his side as they navigated the packed mansion. The crowd parted around them, little waves of people ebbing and flowing to make room for the two men, boisterous cheers of joy raining down upon them. Dieter preened beneath the attention, his smile wide and his cheeks warm, the hand wrapped around Marcus’s waist squeezing hard to grab the Heroic’s attention. 

“They like to make a fuss,” he hummed into Marcus’s ear. 

He couldn’t help but cock his own grin back, turning his head just enough to brush his lips along the shell of Dieter’s ear, delighting in the shiver that followed. “I think you like the fuss.” 

———————

They get separated about an hour in, an inevitability between the number of people vying for Dieter’s attention and the sheer size of the house. Marcus excused himself to the bathroom, trying and failing not to be annoyed when the first empty one he found was on the opposite end of the party. By the time he made it back to where he left Dieter, the other man had moved, now sitting on a couch, friends and fans alike draped around him. 

There was something strange about watching Dieter Bravo in what some would consider his natural habitat. He was bright and shiny and impossible to look away from. He almost looked relaxed, his arms thrown over the back of the sofa and his legs stretched out long, only the tap tap tap of his heel giving him away.

Marcus wanted to insert himself. To crowd himself beside the other man and press his palm to the bend of his knee in hopes of soothing away the small tremor of anxiety, but he hesitated, his own worries holding him in place. So he stayed where he was, back glued to the wall, arms crossed and frown firm, as he tried to decipher the scene playing out in front of him. 

Was Dieter’s laugh real just then? Or was the one Marcus had teased out of him hours prior? The sounds seemed so similar, a copy of a copy that looked and felt and sounded real. Were his cheeks pink because he preferred their attention over Marcus’s? Or was it because this room was too damn hot? What did it mean when Dieter touched her knee? Or kissed his cheek? Or leaned a little bit more into their touch? 

And why did Marcus care? 

He didn’t consider himself a jealous man. 

But it almost felt inevitable, the dark tendrils of jealousy seemingly always present, ever since that fateful moment in the alleyway, smoke and secrets traded away for unspoken promises for more. Marcus clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes, watching the other man glow beneath the attention of others. Was it merely a reflection back of the attention poured upon him? The mirrors of a disco ball catching in the light and shining for the delight of others? Or was Dieter just enjoying another moment in the limelight? 

Marcus couldn’t seem to see the line between real and fake, or what side he stood on. 

Someone handed him a drink in the midst of his brooding, and the sting of the alcohol paired well with his bitter mood. He was trapped in a hell of his own making, refusing to look away from the crowd gathered around Dieter, but hating every second of it. 

The jealousy burned inside of him. What had just been something dark mingling in the background was now present and in full force. Marcus was jealous. Jealous at how effortlessly Dieter lived his life, able to navigate crowds and fame and fervor without ever breaking a sweat. Jealous at how his smile seemed just as bright as it had when he opened his door hours earlier. Jealous at how someone else held the attention of his sweet brown eyes. 

And suddenly there was fear. Icy cold and horrifying reality. 

Marcus didn’t belong here. Here with these pretty people and their clean lines and bright lights. He was messy edges and dirty hands, stained with years of violence that would never scrub clean. There was dirt on his ledger and red on his chest, and Dieter was beautiful. So very very beautiful.

Another wave of panic gripped tight at Marcus’s throat. 

When was the last time he told Dieter he was beautiful? Yesterday? Or the day before that? Either way, it wasn’t enough. Not nearly. And he couldn’t fathom a world where he lost the chance to say it again. 

He couldn’t lose this. He couldn’t lose him. 

The lights above them flickered, an unwelcome side effect of his superpowers, Marcus’s unruly emotions too much to handle all at once. It was just enough to drag everyone’s attention up, stealing their eyes away from Dieter, but only briefly. The actor caught his gaze in the small interim, brows pinched and lips curved, his sharp mind putting the puzzle together. Marcus blushed beneath the scrutiny, feeling very much like a child caught in the midst of a crime. He slammed the cup down on the nearest surface he could find and shoved his dirty hands in the pockets of Dieter’s jacket, and turned away, the lights flickering one last time as he made a quick and embarrassing exit. 

From behind he could hear the shout of a stranger.

“Hey, Dee where’s your boyfriend headed?”

Marcus was so focused on the fact that someone else called him ‘Dee’ that he missed the way Dieter's eyes lit up at the word boyfriend.

The bathroom he had found earlier was blissfully empty, and he took care to lock the door behind him. He braced himself against the sink, the cool porcelain a balm to the heat of his palms, breathing in and out, sharp and fast, to match the beat of his heart. A knock came seconds later, Dieter’s voice chasing the sound. 

“Let me in, Marcus.”

It didn’t sound like a request.

Marcus unlocked the door with a flick of his wrist, and the actor slipped in, eyes pinning him in place as he locked the door behind him. For a moment both of them refused to speak, 2 feet of space between them, and enough silence to last a lifetime. It was Dieter who finally broke the tension, stepping forward until Marcus was within his reach, the palm of his hand cupping his cheek to keep him close.

“Flattered as I am, I can’t decide if I like jealous on you or not.” 

Marcus knew it was foolish to lie at this point. If his fucking superpowers hadn’t given him away, then storming off surely had, and any denial would have rung hollow. Besides, they had promised. Months ago, in an opulent hotel room, cum and sweat sticking them together. They promised to always be honest with each other. 

“I don’t belong here, Dee.”

“Shut up.” The sentiment came out as a tease, the tip of Dieter’s thumb tracing the stubble along Marcus’s cheek, but the look on his face was serious. 

Marcus shook his head, unsure how to say what had seemed so clear to him only minutes ago. “I’m not…I’m not g–”

“I swear to fucking all, if you say the word ‘good,’ Moreno.”

His mouth clamped shut, and he smiled for the first time since he left Dieter’s side earlier in the night. The other man yanked him in for a quick kiss, only pulling a breath away when he spoke again.

“You are better than all of us, sweet boy. Please tell me you know that?”

Marcus wanted to shake his head in disagreement, the very idea that Dieter saw the good in him too much to bear, but the actor was already kissing him again, lips slanting sweetly along his own. When they broke apart for the second time, Dieter said it again, and then again, each time pairing a kiss with his words. Marcus thought maybe he would have kissed him a hundred times and then a hundred more, praise and adoration passed between them until the inevitable end of time caught up. 

But then Dieter crowded in closer, kissing him with much more fervor, his intent clear. Hands scrambled as belts were tugged free and pants were pulled down, bodies twisting until Marcus was plastered to Dieter’s back. He slipped inside the broader man easily, still slick with his release from earlier. Dieter whined at the stretch, pressing back into Marcus, fingers curling around the edge of the bathroom counter as he began to beg. 

“Hard, baby. Please.”

Marcus nipped at Dieter’s ear, refusing to move, the entire length of him buried to the hilt inside him. “How hard?” 

“Hard,” Dieter begged again, squirming in Marcus’s tight grip. “Hard as you can. Need to feel you. F-feel so good.”

It was an intoxicating rush, reducing Dieter Bravo to stumbling pleas and wanton moans, and Marcus swore as long as he was able to pull air into his lungs he refused to take that feeling for granted. He pressed a soft kiss to Dieter’s skin and gently nudged his nose to the back of his head, coaxing his gaze up to meet Marcus’s in the mirror. 

He dragged his hand up Dieter’s chest, stopping to feel the steady thump of his heart, one, two, three beats, before moving up to wrap his fingers around the other man’s throat. He whined again, writhing to and fro, the sound more pitiful with each passing second that Marcus refused to move. 

“I’ve got you, mi cielo. I’ve got you,” he hummed the promise, pressing another kiss to Dieter’s sweat-damp curls. He squeezed the actor’s throat again, watching as his cock seemed to pulse in time with the action. He bit back his own groan, his own cock painfully hard where he was buried inside the other man. 

“M-marcus…please…”

When he finally moved, it was slow, almost torturous for the both of them, but Marcus refused to be rushed. Not this time. Fuck any and everyone who dared to knock on that door. That dared to interrupt them. That dared to break between this moment. He pulled the other man closer, one arm wrapped around his waist, the other still gripping tight to his throat. Dieter’s hands were still scrambling, designer soaps and over-priced products falling to the floor as he seeked some sort of leverage. He finally found it, stonewashed denim bunching between his fingers as he dug them into Marcus’s forearms.

And only then did Marcus give into his request, snapping his hips as hard as he could, teeth sinking into the curve of Dieter’s neck. There would be bruises, bad ones, but he couldn’t bring himself to care, too overwhelmed at the thought of marking the other man as his own. Dieter didn’t seem to mind either, begging Marcus again and again to give him everything he had. 

“Want to feel it,” he sobbed, the pleasure just on the other side of pain. “Want to feel you when I’m gone. Please.” 

“You will, baby. I promise,” Marcus growled. “You’ll feel me for days. You won’t forget me. P-please… don’t forget me.” 

The admission fell out of Marcus before he could stop it, along with his own broken sobs to match. The pain and tears burst to life, the broken pieces he had hidden all over his body finding new life as he begged Dieter to take it all with him. Each slam of his hips and bruising touch of his hands. Every bite from his teeth and kiss from his lips. The words and the promises and the things neither of them knew how to say but felt all the same. 

“Take me with you, Dee. Please, take me with you.” 

“I will, sweet boy,” he gasped, his body shaking beneath Marcus’s anguished hands. “Sweet boy. Good boy. I promise.”  

Dieter came first, though Marcus wasn’t sure how, his sobs and sighs of pleasure long past any sort of coherence. His cock twitched and pulsed, coming completely untouched. Marcus watched Dieter’s face break apart in the reflection of the mirror, his brown eyes wild and skin flushed, lips parting around a feral scream. 

Marcus fell apart in kind, sparks of heat bursting at the base of his spine as tight velvet squeezed around him, Dieter’s voice in his ear, his jacket sticking to his skin. He spilled inside the other man, tears and spit and snot pressed into Dieter’s neck, little words of praise coaxing him through the brunt of it. Eventually, the tears turned to laughter, the two of them clinging tighter as they made guesses at how many people heard them.

“Either way, I hope they enjoyed the show because I sure did,” Dieter teased, nipping his teeth on the hinge of Marcus’s jaw. 

They did a piss poor job of cleaning up, Dee’s cum barely wiped clean from the porcelain with a towel found below the counter, too high a thread count for something so filthy but neither man really gave two shits to look for an alternative. The products were tossed haphazardly into the sink, the idea of stacking them neatly ridiculous. They both agreed; you get what you ask for when you throw a party in the valley. 

Marcus took better care when it came time to clean Dieter up. He warmed up the water from the sink as best he could, using that same fancy towel from before to wipe up the trickle of cum slipping slowly down his backside. He couldn’t stop from stealing one small indulgence, using his thumb to press some of himself back inside the other man, Dieter’s legs visibly shaking from the sudden stimulation. Marcus shushed him with a soft kiss to one of the many bite marks littered across his neck, humming out a quiet apology.

“Do they hurt?”

“They do,” Dieter grinned, tilting his chin to admire the marks as he tugged his jeans up over the swell of his ass. “I’m gonna need a few more before I get on that plane tomorrow.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmmm, definitely.” 

Dieter pressed something hard into Marcus’s hand and when he looked down he could see it was his car keys, the silver teeth catching in the light. 

“Take me home, sweet boy. I have plans for you.”

There was that word again, breathed out so easily, like a promise he knew he would keep. 

Home. 

[pyromanicsghost]

I genuinely don't understand why people hate the new season. Spoilers to follow.

To start, the Five and Lila subplot was shit. I won't front - it existing outside of the plot made it easy for me to just act like it didnt happen. Diego and Lila and Five deserved better and it sounds like the actors knew it. But if a bad romance subplot could ruin a whole show, I'd hate a lot more things.

I'm on the fence about Klaus's plot - felt like sidelining him and was questionable. But also a natural part of Klaus's life. Lila had her kids, Allison had Claire, Diego his family, on and on. Klaus's whole life was avoiding being sober and then a huge focus on sobriety. This is his thing. All y'all loved his drugged antics and it gets messy and sad especially when facing it post rock bottom and change.

I see a lot of Ben being unimportant complaints - Ben was always auxilary and a mcguffin there to bond or split the group - Umbrella Ben was a concept, a guilt source, Klaus's conscience, Klaus's id...never a character and dead before the show ever began. Sparrow Ben was literally never part of this family and plot about the family embracing him would have been nice, but him having his own solo quest because he is alone in this world was also fine. Jennifer was a plot device - and in a comic book show about another apocalypse thats not neccessarily a bad thing - especially with a group of dynamic characters I care about on the board.

I see a lot of complaints about the lack of fun villains. What was Sy (I know who was in him but that performance was fun)? Gene and Jean? Those are classic villains that are right up there with the Swedes and the Handler. Hazel & Cha Cha are still standouts but thats not cause these guys sucked.

I see a lot of ending complaints - going from "it was all for nothing" to "it was harmful". If it was harmful for you please be safe and that's a personal decision each time - but also that's media sometimes. It wasn't an irresponisble move like The Magicians or 13 Reasons or other things that just don't consider the audiences needs in order to gain shock value and I don't think they did anything irresponsible with it.

(I am a survivor of unalive attempts, one right after magicians so I get it. And I'm a year sober re: Klaus stuff.)

But, I loved the ending. I don't think it was all for nothing. They saved thier families! They saved everyone! The whole world! Universe! Future and past! Their moms! Hundreds of people who died in their fight to save it, on either side because without the conflict caused by them they're lives were different! I wish the Flash, or Winchesters, or anyone else who keeps ruining lives and causing death and strife sometimes on an apocalypse scale or multiverse timesplit scale had, at literally any point, said "Actually we should value this over my mom/brother/self"...like the scale was apocalyptic. That has a cost. And wow they fixed more than even I hoped. The families? Nice. Hazel and his diner wife are where I got emotional - very nice touch to show everyone.

Why isn't there a kugelblitz? Either the deletion of the timelines and that energy removed the issue Golden Compass style or its a fun comic book show with time assassins and a new element called marigold.. take your pick. It's never been that deep.

The marigolds at the end were probably not thought about as much as anyone on here has. I thought it was just a fun finale goodbye, like getting a bouqet at curtain. I liked that Ben and Lila both had one.

Genuinely confused and had to write to the void and see if I'm alone or crazy. I recommend a lot of people read and watch more media for literacy and stop hoping for plots that are fanservice as they often tank good things and fanfiction and your imagination remain goated, often better, or touch grass and realize the silly fun comic book apocalypse multiverse romp may just be a lil dumb and that's okay...if you read all that I'd love feedback 🩷

And I loved so much more than this stuff! Claire being an actualized young adult and loving her uncle and mom and being a teen? Viktor getting the validation he craved. Diego getting his skills and lust for life back. The fucking cut from baby shark to "He's dying" and so many shots/editing/music choices that highlight the dark comedy this show is.

[mdhwrites]

When I watched Amphibia, I kinda had a hard time understanding how certain headcanons were developed in the fandom. Especially Grime being Sasha's 'toad dad' and Olivia and Yunan being Marcy's 'newt moms.'

Like...by the end of the series, I totally bought Sasha and Grime as close friends (heck, they sold me as friends partway through season two), but Grime never gave 'adoptive dad' vibes to me. Putting aside the fact Grime's the reason Sasha spent her first month in Amphibia in a cell, he's also a pretty toxic influence on her, indulging her worst traits and only really improving as a person when he and Sasha form the resistance in season three.

And I'm confident viewers only started the 'newt moms' headcanon because of the episode Olivia & Yunan. Which is pretty ironic, since in that episode, Yunan initially objects to saving Marcy (she didn't even refer to Marcy by her name, just 'the human' XD), and like you said, Olivia explicitly states she's motivated to save Marcy because she trusts her and thinks her intelligence will help them defeat Andrias, not because Marcy is someone she's emotionally attached to.

Sure, in The Hardest Thing, Olivia and Yunan hug Marcy goodbye, so there was clearly some fondness for her by the end, but nowhere near familial feelings. And yeah, maybe you could argue Olivia cared for Marcy since she insisted on being 'gentle' when Marcy was being pulled out of the tank, but that's just basic decency; hardly 'adoptive mother' behaviour.

With all that in mind, why do you think so many got so hooked on the idea of these people being found families for Sasha and Marcy? Did they think Sasha and Marcy both 'deserved' a found family just because Anne got that with the Plantars? Did they just like the idea, even if canon did almost nothing to validate it?

I personally think it's because a lot of people thought Sasha and Marcy's parents were abusive (another headcanon I can't get behind), and believed they deserved to find 'better' families in Amphibia. But that's my take; what's yours?

So there's a LOT here to potentially discuss because you're not wrong in saying that it's a dubious claim. Let's start with just my thoughts on them being found families: I like Grime as Sasha's father figure in works but it is much more a mentor and student relationship but where who is doing which is very dubious. The two need each other but how much one or the other need each other is constantly shifting and it's part of what makes their dynamic interesting. Trying to place a specific label on them is rough and I'd agree that saying that Grime is Sasha's first healthy friendship would be accurate because of the push and pull there.

Yunan and Olivia are great in fanworks as having had a real relationship with Marcy but the show just doesn't support it. Yunan seems to look down on her and barely know her while Olivia is a very normal archtype of the proper, Victorian woman who has to deal with childish antics. Neither are bad characters for it but it does mean that the moment in the end with her hugging Yunan and Olivia is more for the sake of a curtain call than it is a big relationship being wrapped up. They honestly symbolize Newtopia, which Marcy definitely should still love, rather than their actual characters in that hug and I think that works.

Now, why are they called found families?

Well, the first reading for why is honestly what I'd probably put my money on: It's a popular trope and people liked the dynamics enough to want to push it into the box they wanted it to be. Like how TOH is praised for its found family despite the family doing so little together, it's a trope with poor definitions, is hard to disprove and is just roaring through fiction right now so its overuse as a term isn't surprising. The fact that it gets used to describe so many people with just dynamics in general (frankly, it feels like it's becoming harder to write best friends in fiction partially from this) makes me unsurprised that it is getting used here since Anne does absolutely get a found family with the Plantars.

Which does bring a second part in: It makes Sasha and Marcy more important. If they're going on similar journeys as Anne than they totally aren't there to help with the themes and the like, the journey is about them too! It brings them closer to being the focus of the story and as narratively important as Anne which, as we've seen, was a big deal to the fandom. I won't even call this bad, fandom will do as it does, but it does also end up diminishing just how big a deal it was for the Plantars to so thoroughly integrate Anne into their family and then how the Boonchuys recognize that work and accept them readily too. If it's as easy as it had to have been for Marcy, Yunan and Olivia, it kind of cheapens the core thrust of the show, almost like it focused on Anne for a reason.

The last one is... KIND OF what you brought up but I think it's a lot deeper than you frame it. I recognize that nowadays I am an outlier. I literally go and take a walk with my mom every morning, or I'm supposed to, to try and help her be more physically active. My problems with my parents are mostly due to my brain not being able to accept anyone actually approves of me, let alone people who's approval I care about. I am so very lucky to have good parents who I am happy to call my parents and who I am glad to have the support of.

All too many kids, even those not in the LGBTQIA+ but ESPECIALLY if they are, have bad family homes. They dream of being able to escape to a new world that's better than theirs, meet people who accept them for them and let them do cool things and be themselves. Escapism, especially isekai, is EXTREMELY popular for a reason, especially as just the world in general sucks, regardless of your relationship with your family.

So then we get Marcy and Sasha still going back. Them ALL going back because sometimes change is inevitable and not always can you bring the ones you care about with you. It's a powerful message that spits in the eye of that escapism and for a lot of people, that HURTS. Like for as much as I defend the choice, I do understand why so many in the fandom reacted negatively to it. For as much as they potentially didn't care about the Amphibians, they don't want to lose the froggy world that they wanted to live in themselves.

And so we get the projection of abusive parents. We get the toads and newts also being found families because it's so much worse to give those people up in your life than just saying bye to your friends. We get reasons why they should have stayed or at least been allowed to travel between worlds. This isn't even all inherently wrong, especially if you are willing to admit that there was a reason why the show chose the ending it did, even if you wish you could have the one that makes you happier.

Hell, we even see some of that with how people treat angst right here. They want Sasha and Marcy to have abusive parents... Because then they can be told it's okay to reject reality, be given a hug and then move on. Not to explore that abuse but to be given the wish fulfillment of that abuse being met with kindness which is admittedly how you should meet that stuff, please take abuse victims seriously and help them, but life is more complicated than that most of the time.

These are arguments I can understand and sympathize with though. I wish I could see someone using mental illness as now their superpower to be something that makes me happy because it WOULD be nice if my depression made me better than others. I just... don't quite engage with media that way though. It's actually part of what I think makes scripted content harder for me because I engage too genuinely and don't just want a pat on the head and a juice box.

And that isn't to say people who do want that are wrong. I still don't want to be actively hurt by the media I consume. I am still there to be entertained and happy and how that happens will be different for each person. That's part of the joy of life.

So I won't tell people who want Yunan and Olivia to be Marcy's lesbian moms they're bad for wanting that. Just don't tell me that's objectively what happened in the story since analysis and headcanon are genuinely different.

======+++++======

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.

[intuitive-revelations]

I'm not feeling super today, so am going to go ahead and watch some of Tales of the TARDIS to take my mind of it, since it's now available. Here's my thoughts in real time, though I'm just focusing on the new segments for now, since the rest is just an omnibus version of the original serial.

Earthshock:

Ah, we've got an MCU style 'Whoniverse' bumper now. Visuals are fine, though the music is a little disappointing IMO. I would have hoped for some variant on the theme music, maybe the middle 8?

I like the TARDIS flying across it forming a line though. Feels like a very deliberate similarity to Thirteen's logo.

I know it won't be in this series, but the fact they've included Eight's time vortex in the intro has me hopeful for the future, whether it would just involve Grace and/or Lee, or potentially something BF related. Given the omnibus nature of these episodes, probably the prior. The TV movie would be a pretty good length for it too.

Similarly, while the TARDIS set is obviously based on plenty other bits of the sets, I like that Eight's columns are included as a part too.

I'm curious about this whole setup. On one hand it feels a bit like the 'degeneration' stuff we're already seeing in the anniversary and Big Finish, but it also feels kinda Curator-related.

I quite like the 'theme baseline' soundtrack here with Five.

"I was fast asleep, in bed, I said goodnight to Nyssa..." Ah, I see the TeganNyssa agenda is still in play!

The subtitles say 'goodbye', but the line was definitely 'goodnight'... real time censorship... 😢

"We never really did this sort of thing did we"

"You didn't, not one line" ok, I see what you did there.

"This is the memory of a time machine, and it's reached out and remembered... us." Oh, 'tales of the TARDIS' indeed. So it's the TARDIS summoning the characters we see? Is it 'the' TARDIS, or some sort of echo? If the prior, then when is this taking place? I would say sometime in the future, but the TARDIS of course is non-linear.

"It's a remembered TARDIS", again still not sure as to the above. But kinda makes me think of a remembrance tank? Like someone tried to remember a TARDIS into existence, but it's incomplete.

"I'll do it for him"

Oh... the dynamic shift back to wide screen with Five holding Adric's badge crossfading over the episode?

Was the badge remembered into existence too?

"Maybe that's what a memory TARDIS is for?" "Therapy."

The Mind Robber:

Hm, the reused TARDIS cgi + stock background image makes me wonder a bit if this was the last-minute addition to the 60th line up RTD mentioned? Or maybe there just wasn't much budget, in which case fair enough, but it does feel like this series might have been done a bit quickly.

Aw, Jamie and Zoe!

So the memory TARDIS itself has unlocked their memories.

"I've missed him every day of my life, but I didn't realise it." 🥺

"What they did to use was unforgivable" phew. while I know this isn't meant to get too heavy, I was a bit worried for a second they were going to glance over the trauma of their memory wipes. Sure, it's been a lifetime since it happened, but I'm glad the pain of it is acknowledged.

"And I think we've been brought here to undo it?" So will this be permanent or not...?

"I'd still be with him now if I could." Jamie...

"Five daughters". Huh... I know this is a niche point, but that's a bit odd. He has multiple descendents who are McCrimmons (eg. Heather, from the DWA comics) so I'm a bit surprised a son wasn't mentioned.The Glorious Revolution also has at least eight children. I guess some sons could have died and Jamie just isn't mentioning them, or a daughter just passed their maiden name to their child, maybe out of wedllock. Plus he technically could still have more kids I suppose, even at an older age.

"Well, I have a son, a scientist. I named him James." "A-after me?" "I never realised it before, but... well, of course it was after you!"

President Romana is out. President Zoe is in!

"Where do we begin? And don't say Cybermen. I want to forget about the Cybermen." Ouch. Now I'm thinking about The World Shapers.

Again, I like these smooth format transitions.

"Well, whatever this place is, it's restored our memories, for good. I think all we need to do, if we want to come back here, is to close our eyes and remember it." Question answered I guess. Very hand-wavey to be coming out of Zoe, but I'll allow it I guess.

"Maybe we're in heaven." "I hope not, I'm a very busy woman."

"I wonder if [Victoria]'s still out there somewhere?" Ow...

"I hope she had a nice life." "I'm sure she did. I bet she thought of you every single day." Ow...again.

"Because there's one thing I know for sure, I will never, ever forget this again." I hope so, Zoe.

Vengeance on Varos:

Aw, this music introducing Six (if that is Six?) is so sweet!

"The Warrior Queen" so it's that version of Peri? Makes sense I suppose to avoid the extra confusion.

"You got old." "Mm, and bigger. And beardier. Oh time marches on Peri, even for a Time Lord." Hmm, this does imply the Six we see isn't aged due to temporal effects, as in Time Crash, but may have actually aged to this point. Combined with the lack of him wearing his coast, maybe it is the Curator after all? Of course, could be more of an 'imagined' Doctor given the memory TARDIS, but I'm leaning towards all the characters being real.

Ay, Medusa Cascade mention.

"Your story is far from over." "For both of us, Doctor." "Maybe? Maybe." Yep, definitely leaning towards the Curator. This definitely reads to me as the Doctor in some of their final incarnations.

"You've always been here. You never left. The TARDIS never forgets." Again, feels like it's the real TARDIS? Granted Six could be speaking more metaphorically, but still.

"Every night, I would look up at the stars and wonder, which one you were spinning round in the TARDIS and I'd ask myself... 'will I ever see him again?'" Oh no! I thought Peri seemed a bit sad, but was unsure if it was intentional - I thought it might have just been Nicola struggling a bit with doing the accent on screen again. But no, it very much is. She sounds heartbroken on this line. I'm sorry for doubting your acting Nicola!

Ooh, look at that transition again!

Oh, so "Warrior Queen" Peri did make it back to Earth? Cool they're set her up to be here, so she could have Earth-based appearances in the future, but does make me wonder how that overlaps with her other fates. It seems compatible with some of them, but not sure exactly where it sits.

Yrcanos is dead and Peri wants to revisit the memorial (on Krontep presumably) once a year. Apparently this aligns pretty directly with the Season 22 promo, which is great continuity. I guess this implies the Six she was travelling with there wasn't BF!Six, but this older incarnation?

Speaking of which, if he's willing to fly away in this memory TARDIS, once again that seems to suggest the Curator connection, potentially for the TARDIS as well.

The Three Doctors

Now Jo and Clyde!

Jo wrapped in Three's jacket!

I think the sonics, or at least some of them, are just the toys.

In their squabble, Jo mentions she's a great-grandmother now!

"I think they're all here. All of the Doctors. All of the companions."

"Sweet Sarah Jane." 🥺

"I heard, and I'm sorry." Oh... not long after Cliff died then.

"So tell me how you all are: you, Luke, Rani." Ah here's the important stuff!

Luke and Sanjay are in space with UNIT.

Clyde got his comic adaptation! I saw that the movie gets dropped at some point, but now he still gets it as a TV series. That's nice.

Rani's still a journalist. Particularly focused on climate, which Jo loves.

Clyde seems really sad about them all being apart. I guess the Clani will-they-won't-they continues...

No Sky mention... on one hand, makes sense given Jo never knew her, but still a little disappointing, if good for us from a Class: Ongoing writing level. It seems overall RTD is working under the idea that Series 5 was finished, and Sky's 'ascension' in Battle of Bannerman Road happened (hence the 'manifest in human form' thing in Farewell, Sarah Jane).

Obviously it's referencing Hartnell not being present for most of the events, but "2 and a half Doctors" kinda feels like a wink towards Devious.

Aw, Clyde mentioned meeting the Brig to Jo.

"And that's why I'm telling you now, you have got to tell her." "Tell who...what?" "Oh Clyde, don't play games with me."

If you love Rani, you just jolly well go and tell her." AHH!!!

"Oh, stories are important Clyde. We're made of stories, and you're missing the most important one of all."

The ending with Jo holding the Metabelis crystal and seeing Cliff...

The Time Meddler

Steven and Vicki!

They've both got grandkids now.

"And now look - I've got my little sister back!"

They both want to see the Doctor so much...

Pfft, Steven questioning if it's the Doctor's TARDIS because of Six's coat! It's quite a nice choice though, given the episode included featuring the Monk.

Once again, a nice transition with the clock.

The echo of the Monk screaming is a little creepy.

The Monk's dimensional controls! Of course they'd still be in the TARDIS.

"I was an orphan and he became my family. I became the granddaughter he'd lost." Man they're really emphasising the found family here.

"He talked of you for all the time I knew him."

Hmm. "He's probably watching us on some monitor somewhere." then showing the camera view of them, really does make me wonder if a Doctor is in another part of the TARDIS.

"He's as much a part of the TARDIS as this is."

"You know I think of him everyday. I always have. If I could have one wish in all the universe at this moment, it would be to see him again." "Yeah."

Again the ending, with them wishing to see the First Doctor... 🥺

You know the metaphysical emphasis on everything here, kind of makes me think of the metaphysical engine... The dimensions of the TARDIS set are quite similar too.

The Curse of Fenric

Oh I realise that space backgrounds different now. Possible they were changing throughout, but this is the time I've noticed. The animation on the TARDIS seems the same though.

Something very forboding about showing "The History of the Time War", even though it wasn't part of Seven's era. Makes sense though, between his own manipulations and Ace's role in Gallifrey: Time War.

Ace is in her business suit again. Outside of a loose continuity, and building on the leading ACE thing, I'm not sure why they keep going with this.

However, that rainbow badge. I see you Ace.

Ace instinctively putting on the Doctor's hat.

Seven and Ace are so cheerful to see eachother!

"Last time I saw you, you were a hologram. But you're here, you're real!" Nice direct reference to PoTD. So this is afterwards for Ace. Makes sense. The Doctor seemingly acknowledging this however... I would say more Curator proof but...

"You've got old." "Time streams are funny things. In some, I regenerate, in others I don't. It's all a matter of perspective." WAIT WHAT? I guess that seemingly debunks my theory, but this raises a number of questions. So we're in more of a Dark Dimension situation? That being said, the Doctor recognises that it's a "matter of perspective", so is it an older Doctor temporarily in Seven's form? Or an actual alternative timeline Seven? Or the Seven we know, just referring to having aged beyond what he was like during regeneration due to the temporal differential?

Hell, to combine my theory in with this. Is how the Curator's fluid regenerations work? He's shifting between time streams in which past incarnations lived beyond their regeneration?

All this being said. Weirdly fitting to include this here, given Ace's various possible lives.

"This is a memory TARDIS, a special place where old friends come together to share stories, to remember. And to comfront difficult truths..."

Ace doesn't want to talk about Fenric...

"So many lives were ruined." "Others were set in motion." Ah there's the Seven i remember.

"Dangerous undercurrents."

I remain unclear on the current version of Ace's timeline. Apparently when they last parted under bad circumstances (as implied in PotD) he intended to leave her in London, but left her in Ontario instead.

"To be fair, we did have a very busy day, as I remember. Yes. Oh, yes. The Rani was up to her old tricks." Ay, Rani mention. For a sec I thought it was a Dimensions in Time reference.

Ace's voice breaking, talking about her Nan...

"I loved you, you know. Like the Dad I never had. I've never said that before, but I did. I still do."

Seven's reaction as Ace calls him her Dad. You can see him visibly biting his lip 🥺

"And I love you."

Quoting Survival!

I love them both having to jump up to reach the higher controls.

Seven accidentally hurting himself playing the spoons is the perfect way to end.

Overall thoughts

Well this was lovely! I know I shouldn't take it too seriously, as it's just an in character intro to old stories, in the same way I wouldn't take eg. the intro to DotD that seriously, but I do appreciate some of the extra story we get. For a start, Jamie and Zoe gaining their memories back, if it is permanent, is huge! As is Jo encouraging Clyde to speak to Rani.

In general, the continuity difficulties you'll always encounter with these stories with the old companions seem to work out. Again, still not sure what to make of with Ace, at least as someone who very much likes her going to Gallifrey. That being said, they did kind of hint at her Time War history, so who knows?

Obviously the memory TARDIS and the returning classic Doctors are great, but I do remain curious on what they 'mean' in-universe. It definitely feels like something that could be spun out into a greater story.

Overall, very sweet, and very emotionally satisfying, sometimes more than I expected! The emphasis on everyone relationships, the found family of it all, was also brilliant.

The best way I can summarise it is by going back to the first episode and what Five and Tegan say there:

Everyone: Go to therapy. Doctors and Companions: No!!!1 The TARDIS:

[hamburgrestaurant]

Kyouji's Selflessness & Satomi's Normalcy

The chapter where Satomi and Kyouji goes out to eat yakiniku is deeply bittersweet and melancholic for a lot of reasons.

It starts off a little tense, but starts to mellow out when Kyouji talks about his relationship with his family. He's mostly estranged from his siblings, with his sister offhandedly remarked to be just a bit more hostile towards him (i.e., Houjou saying that last he knew, Kyouji's sister basically refuses to let him see her child). In this chapter, Kyouji assumes that his brother's child is probably either around Satomi's age or already off working somewhere— he doesn't know for sure.

What he does know, though, is the last time he saw the child, they were about the size of tongs at the yakiniku restaurant. Maybe this was before Kyouji left for the yakuza.

Satomi asks if he misses his nephew/niece, and Kyouji could only say that as long as they're living well, it's fine with him.

It does give a lot more depth to his character— how he isn't really just flightly and happy-go-lucky generally. He's probably this way since, as I've discussed previously, his life is full of people leaving. Kyouji has accepted most of the time, people leaving him is for the better, even if he doesn't feel particularly good about it.

He's a pretty selfless guy to tank the isolation, and even takes Satomi's request to not see each other again in relative stride. Kyouji doesn't mind not seeing his family again. Kyouji doesn't mind separating himself for Satomi for those 3 years. And, hell, he doesn’t even mind if it means not seeing him again forever. As long as it means they are living their lives as they should.

It's depressing, but morally, Kyouji's got a good head on his shoulders.

❏❐❏❐❏❐❏❐❏❐❏❐❏❐❏❐❏❐❏❐❏❐❏❐

On the other hand, this meeting serves as a moment of reluctance to return to normalcy for Satomi. He had quite frankly stated that he wasn't comfortable getting roped up with any shenanigans due to Kyouji's presence— so he feels it's for the best they don't meet anymore.

But at their parting, surrounded by the "ideal normalcy," Satomi starts to struggle with the upcoming end to their relationship.

We see him get anxious, his own panels are completely blank, as if lost in thought. Satomi could have just said goodbye as usual, but it eventually culminates to this:

In a world full of just "normal" and "regular," Satomi reached out and hugged the man the most far away from those ideals.

It's an interesting dynamic, I think. One who is willing to let go, because that's for the best. And the other who has to let go for the better, but still wants to cling to that small irregularity in his spotless life.

I wonder if his request only started to hit him when they had to say their farewells. Maybe he thought he could sever ties easily, but didn't realize the weight of basically losing a whole person, forever.

I hope they can find a balance somewhere down the line.

[fonulyn]

Wait, wait, wait, goodbye??? Please no! You're one of my absolute favorite writers, and I especially adore how you write metaltango. I don't want to lose you too 😭♥ which Fandom isn't good to you? The resi Fandom as a whole, or?

thank you for the kind words 💖

idk i'm just very lonely and sad and tired. it's... very lonely to churn out thousands upon thousands words and then maybe a couple of people like it enough to say something, and it's just wearing me out because i crave interaction as a part of this process. it's like driving for hours and then getting a spoonful of gas into the tank. it's not sustainable. i'm driving on fumes.

and most of all i can't keep doing this to myself. i hype myself up for a new fic, get super excited to share it, get all "well this time people will love it as much as i do!" ...but it doesn't happen. i'm again left wondering what i did wrong and where i fell short because yeah no one did love it like i did. i keep getting excited over nicely structured sentences, over clever references, over concepts i think work super well, and i hold my breath wishing someone would notice... but it doesn't happen.

and i'm so tired.

i'm also being somewhat dramatic, i'm aware, because there are some fics that got a better response and i truly am thankful for every single nice comment i've gotten! each time someone takes the time to type out something in the comment field it makes me really happy.

and i'm aware it's my own damn fault for writing niche pairings and niche tropes :'D but urgh. like the Damnation au I was so excited for it but clearly it tanked miserably lmao so I am tempted to just axe it. or the mutant baby series, for which i had SIX fics planned but yeah 3-6 now might not see light of day.

i guess i'm just. i have too high hopes, probably. i had a friend, once upon a time, who did quote things they liked and made me feel seen in the way i craved so maybe i'm still mourning that and unable to get over the grief of not only losing that but losing the friendship as well. idek. or maybe i'm just a selfish hag :'D

ANYHOW this is super long already but I'll still say that I don't know if this actually is a goodbye or not. I do have a list of like thirty things I still want to write! and I am not ready to give up on these characters and the dynamics between them. so who knows. maybe in a few weeks i'll slink back like nothing ever happened. it wouldn't be the first time!

[bengiyo]

Step By Step Ep 4 Stray Thoughts

Last week, Jaab and Jen took a whole section of the show to themselves and crushed the ad. Meanwhile, the rest of us lusted after Jeng in his black suit and shirt, as well as his oversized sweater. Pat's review rocked Jeng to his core, and he spent much of the episode reconciling with the fact that his subordinates don't trust him or believe him in; they see him as an antagonistic force in his life. He committed to being better, and started by formally reprimanding the coworker that touched Pat inappropriately. I'm in love with Jeng and this show.

So badminton isn't the first outing. They also sent golfing?

I see Bruce!!

Nothing will fuck up your relationship more than doubles tennis, or, in this case, badminton.

The boy guarding the showers is cute, even though I think he's lying about the showers.

Was Jeng whistling Jeff's song Goodbye is Not Goodbye??

Work Life Integration? HELL NAW. TO THE NO NO NO NAW. HELL TO THE NAW HELL TO THE NO!

Damn, Jeng, you ain't have to be that obvious about seeing Pat in a tuxedo.

I love Bruce so much.

I think Pat is misreading that meeting, because I think Jeng is mostly beefing with another division.

I think Jeng was trying to tease Pat, but that came off super harsh.

I know this is supposed to be cute, but don't put pens near people's faces.

Not keen on Put forcing Ae to give him Pat's number.

I'm curious about this pregnancy plotline. I like that Pat has more than just male friends, and that his female friend is having problems that we wouldn't get in most BL.

Chot is the only person smart enough to check the stalls before having a conversation in the bathroom.

I love this sweater Pat is wearing to Jeng's condo.

Pat was so offended at being called uncle! I lol'd.

All this snooping just for Pat to learn that Jeng is a doting uncle.

Aw, I would probably reject my boss on socials too.

I'm glad Jeng is finally working directly with Pat to give feedback. Pat clearly thrives on praise.

The joy I feel that Chot has a boyfriend who's clearly enamored.

The abject horror of gossiping on your boss in the wrong chat.

Jeng having a frank conversation with Pat was so necessary. Pat has been struggling with so much duplicitousness at this office that he needed this.

Oh no, Jeng is totally tanking at karaoke. This is probably good for him, though. They need to see him be bad at something.

Really love the foundation Jeng and Pat are building.

Goddamn Poppy looks good.

Kanun may have messed up things for Jarb, but I am amused that the straights are having a fun time in bed.

Hair continuity is a mess in this show, but I'll let it slide.

Jeng said, "Just so you know, I'm SINGLE."

Oh no, Pat is about to mistake Jarb for Jeng's boyfriend.

Ben has an incredible face.

Love Up getting to okay the embodiment of, "I should call him."

This show is so good. Tuesday is becoming one of my favorite days right now! I love the foundation Jeng and Pat are building. I like that a workplace romance is going to grow out of respect and admiration for each other in a professional process and collaboration. I like that growing and improving is a big part of their dynamic, and learning to be more honest with each other.

[liliallowed]

When you think about it Crimson and Sans share a lot of mannerisms and are generally... Kind of similar in small ways? They wear the same complex expression when you ask about their past, they barley let their true emotions show on their face, they are always on the lookout for attack, and they both seem like they'll always know more then us. Their fighting matches up perfectly with each other and they seem close in the most hateful way possible. When we watched them fight when we were trapped in the red string, watching them felt like that's what it's always been. Them for all of eternity. I feel like we're kind of an outsider to both of them? It makes me feel... Strangely jealous.

here's some cool art of the scene I drew!

they're married to an eternal slaughter of each other but divorced recently after meeting y/n mutually cheating 😔/j

or could just be interpreted as the salty exes who murder each other on a regular basis!/j

or maybe they are still married to be each other's enemy and you just somehow became a part of that mess???/j

something about the deep history between these two mortal enemies gave you a faint sense of being... left out? as a stranger. you had only known sam's for a few months...

while crimson seemed to know... almost EVERYTHING about him (all to the extent of his accurate battle prowess timing danger and habits... his tastes, his interests his mindset... even his deepest darkest secrets that he had YET to show.)

sans also seemed to know crimson like the back of his hand, rightfully predicting them... making up a carefully set trap using you as bait and they fell for it...

you'd never know sans as well as crimson... and never know crimson as well as sans seemed to know them...

crimson did say they had outlived the world by multiple lifetimes... had they known each other that long? not just one but multiple lifetimes? how long had this been going on???

and yet crimson insisted on pulling you into the drama? to spice things up?

you furrow your eye brows. this was probably some sort of clown show for them to indulge themselves in drama and watch the chaos ensue. not like you could do much against it. you'd use it and take what you could to gain an advantage...

you recall asking them something."do you want to turn me crazy too?'

"of course not, that's too cliche. you're the hero aren't you goody two shoes?"

you were? thinking of yourself as a hero was ironic since it was you who basically freed a chaotic evil entity at the world... what hero does that!?

crimson and sans had a lot in common and among them was their tendency to make you want to punch them in their mysterious smug face... a light bap for sans and a heavy punch for crimson of course.

wait crimson wouldn't feel pain... what was even the point of hurting them??? they also get a light bap you decide.

you felt a bit overwhelmed. coming in between these two felt... like a lot of pressure. despite being told the summary of their dynamic you STILL felt like that extra person who would join a friend group that had known each other for years, awkwardly looking at them glaring at each other without knowing the context or punchline if the jokes they'd say...

or well, the insults they'd throw at each other...

it was mostly one sided... crimson just tanking everything and laughing it off as if losing a limb or two was an average Tuesday...

you really didn't get it... it was horrible to watch them fight... but to them it must've felt... normal? casual?

as if it was a well practiced common practice such as one would chop off one's head as a gesture to say hi or hello or would probably stab the heart as a goodbye...

was that just... their thing?

if you didn't see the blood splatters you would have considered it funny... but it wasn't. it was in fact very graphic.

you almost wished you could unseen it and forget the fact that at certain glances it almost looked... beautiful.

[saiakv]

VERSE 005 ( doors to the deathless )

The doors of the deathless are open, Brahmā, for those who have ears. They enter with veneration, devoid of hatred, the beings in Magadha listen

Suguru's teacher verse is based on a small alteration of the canonical timeline. The main difference is that the curse at Nanako and Mimiko's village was assessed to be a grade two instead of one. So Kento Nanami was dispatched in Suguru's stead. This then leads to a chain of events that eventually land Suguru in Kyoto as a teacher. But before I venture into what I will portray Suguru's disposition to be like in this verse, I wanted to clarify something else about my portrayal.

Suguru's built up frustration was never directed towards jujutsu society. Unlike Gojo, who believes the higher-ups' schemes are to blame, Geto saw a greater problem that referred to the practice of jujutsu in general ( as long as non-sorcerers keep producing curses, jujutsu sorcerers will keep dying thankless deaths to protect them) Suguru himself has always expressed contempt towards those weaker than him in canon. However, being the other side of the coin to Gojo's vanity, this contempt translated to a responsibility to protect them, justifying the power imbalance and the suffering he had to endure. I as a writer subscribe to this interpretation of the character and as a result Suguru's contemptuous attitude towards nonshamans continues to be evident in this verse. However, since there was one less violent experience throughout his downward spiral ( poor Nanami takes the blow instead ;~; ) we can say the proverbial glass of his hatred towards them was filled to the brim but did not overspill.

VERSE SUMMARY:

Suguru is a special training teacher in Kyoto High. Albeit his specialty being martial arts, he is very knowledgeable when it comes to curses and utilizes his technique to create simulations for his students to practice. Suguru is known for his whimsical teaching style and prompting his students to think on their ideals and goals through practicing jujutsu. Much like his Tokyo counterpart, Satoru, his practices are frowned upon by the higher-ups and he is considered a bit of a wild card, especially because of how liberally he expresses his dislike for non-shamans.

This verse will primarily be used to build dynamics with muses that can't interact much in the canon timeline as well as explore 'what-if' scenarios. Kenjaku will not be present in this verse.

Suguru's default age for this verse is 27 years old. As this is just a skeleton for the verse, the status of Mimiko and Nanako's adoption is left vague ( either took custody of them from Nanami, they are being raised in Tokyo High, they are being raised by Gojo, etc etc ) Suguru's parents are also alive in this verse ( so if anyone wants to ask for his hand in marriage you'll need permission )

Verse Timeline & Tidbits under the cut.

VERSE TIMELINE:

March-May 2006: Riko Amanai is assassinated by Toji Fushiguro. Suguru takes in his cursed inventory spirit.

Summer of 2006: Suguru begins to develop severe PTSD symptoms as a result of the encounter.

Autumn of 2006-Winter of 2007: Suguru's mental health is at a steady decline, worsened by the consumption of curses and isolation from his friend group.

August 2007: Satoru Gojo officially becomes The Strongest. Suguru's mental health has tanked severely in the previous months. A conversation with Yuki Tsukumo leads him to the inevitable conclusion that the root of the problem are non-sorcerers. Whilst bidding goodbye, Yuki tells him that a new vessel has been found for Tengen.

September 2007: Suguru is sent on a mission that is soon discovered to be staged by TVA members in order to attain Tengen's new appointed vessel. That tips the glass for Suguru, leading him to annihilate the cult's members instead of taking over — automatically being branded as dangerous and ordered for execution. A petition is signed by Jujutsu High staff members to settle a court date before the execution takes place.

October 2007: His friends and juniors vouch for Suguru's integrity and buy out his freedom, in exchange for limitations on his cursed technique. Suguru is given the choice to either retire from the frontlines and instead be given a teaching job after he graduates with a binding vow/cap on his own cursed technique, or be executed. He goes with the second option, but Gojo interferes and essentially backs him up into a teaching job. That inevitably drives a wedge between the two best friends. aka they break up in front of the KFC still

2010: Suguru officially graduates highschool and is appointed as a special training teacher in Kyoto.

CURSED TECHNIQUE BINDING VOW:

After trial, the higher-ups forced Suguru to take a binding vow that limits him from using his cursed technique, unless he or another sorcerer is under imminent threat. That implies there would always need to be another sorcerer present in order for Suguru to summon spirits, thus he'd only be able to use jujutsu under supervision. Windows and affiliates are included in this vow.

In addition, he cannot use Maximum: Uzumaki without sacrificing his own life in the process. If utilized, Uzumaki will be performed at a 300% of its standard power, but Suguru will be consumed by it first, similarly to how Mahoraga works, yet not exactly. Suguru has figured out a way to merge cursed spirits on his own accord, however there are limitations in regards to the power level of the outcome.

RELATIONSHIP WITH THE STUDENTS:

Suguru is not exactly a favorite among the students, although he is the one they flock to for most of their troubles. He has a great relationship with Noritoshi and a rocky one with Mai Zenin, especially after publicly declaring that he refuses to train her. Momo also dislikes him for that reason.

TIDBITS & CHARACTER QUIRKS:

Suguru is known for his impossibly hard training regimens. He's quite brutal when it comes to discipline routines.

Suguru maintains a relationship with Yuki in this verse, often texting back and forth or meeting up to talk outside of work. Yuki has scouted students for him at times. It's a colleague based thing. He still hasn't answered her question as to his type.

Once per year Suguru travels back to Tokyo with a heavy heart to participate in the exchange event with his students. He hates the teacher nomikai parties.

Suguru has a pet cat-like curse based on the bakeneko yokai. He has named her Wasabi. This curse is non-hostile unless the user is threatened, wears a napkin on its head and does little dances.

In addition, Suguru has kept Fushiguro's inventory spirit and does sometimes utilize it, although usually he keeps it in its shrunk form in his uniform pocket.

Suguru will still accompany his students on missions at times, in order to watch over them. His consumption of curses is very gradual and rare, technically forbidden by the higher-ups, however Suguru still makes pacts with his students to acquire higher grade cursed spirits with the pretext of ensuring they won't be respawning if consumed.

He has his own room in the Kyoto High dormitory.

[kootiepatra]

Finally finished the Wolship Kiss 2.0 template made by @/ivalicea. Full shots and a bit more detail below the cut!

First Kiss

Originally taken for Wolmeric Week! I have written a bit about it here if you would like the short story for it.

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Wedding Kiss

This has not happened yet in canon, but I imagine that they will have a quiet, private ceremony for just their friends and family, ahead of the inevitable big Ishgardian shebang. Not only will this allow them room to do any personal, meaningful things that wouldn't fit in the ~very~ large, formal and traditional ceremony, it also means they can turn into blubbering puddles of tears just in the company of those who love them.

Which they will.

Especially her.

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Morning Kiss

No big story with this one. I just think they're cute.

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Goodbye Kiss

One more for the road. :)

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Surprise Kiss

Originally posed for March of the Tropes 2023. As a rule, Aymeric (correctly) recognizes that Keimwyda is new to all of this and benefits from being given breathing room to take things slowly. He's very patient and gentle with her, which she appreciates greatly.

But he also sometimes worries that he is more into her than she is into him, and that she is being accommodating to him at the expense of her own comfort levels.

So maybe a gal has to head off that particular worry right at the pass.

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Flustered Kiss

My head canon is that they both get flustered relatively easily by the other one, and that they are both chronic fiery blushers when that happens. (In comfortable company, anyway--Aymeric's public-facing poker face is quite hard to dislodge.)

But Keimwyda is the worse of the two of them. And because her general demeanor is very calm and mellow, it amuses Aymeric immensely to see her dissolve into embarrassed laughter. The more minor the thing that got her, the funnier it is to him.

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Dramatic Kiss

I don't think they have canonically taken the battlefield together since becoming official, but it's fun to imagine a final kiss for good luck before doing so. Promises to stay safe, to watch each other's back (tank+supportive ranged DPS combo ftw), to return to each other at duty's end.

(pretend this is not Ghimlyt, I just needed a battlefield)

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Free Space

Used this as an opportunity to pose a HC I've had about them for ages. According to official canon, Aymeric is an accomplished dancer. Keimwyda, on the other hand, was raised by an older lady on a backwoods Black Shroud homestead. I'm sure they had a few dances at the nearby village, but it would have been more in the circle dances / everyone participates sense. So Ishgardian couples' dancing would be entirely new to her, and so of course he would need to teach her how it worked before she could be his plus one at their first formal event together.

So yeah, about that easily flustered thing?

I think this was one of Aymeric's first big revelations that--yes, this woman has faced down demigods, she is on a first-name basis with world leaders, she has spoken before crowds, and negotiated with Great Wyrms--and she is turned into a shy mess by the waltz.

It baffles him and delights him in equal measure. (One of my favorite parts of their dynamic is that they are safe to be enormously dorky in each other's presence--and it means a lot to them both to be free to do that, as well as to get to see that side of one another.)