#there is something very funny and deeply unsettling about going into this space and seeing like.

[meanderfall]

thinking of causing psychic damage to everyone who follows me by reblogging call of duty posts

[lliminall]

(Yan) “Chrollo, why were you crying before? ….Are you alright?”

tags: gn reader, yandere, chrollo being big sad and a little bit unhinged

In the dark shadow of the room, you could almost convince yourself that Chrollo is praying as he glances up at you. Sat hunched on the bed, elbows resting on his knees, hands folded against his forehead as his dark eyes open to meet yours. It would be a funny thought, if it wasn’t so unsettling to see a man of his composure unraveling before you.

For a moment he says nothing, and you wonder if you shouldn’t have said anything about it at all. If you should have stayed in the bathroom and pretended to busy yourself in the shower for another half hour. It feels almost violative to witness him in this state. Your hand itches to flip the switch of the bathroom light, plunge the room into darkness and wipe the image of that expression from your mind.

Chrollo stands and crosses the room in just a few short steps. His hands find rest on the curves of your cheeks, thumbs meandering along the lines of your face.

“I’ve lost someone very important to me,” he says. “Someone I should have been able to protect.”

His eyes are sad, too sad for a man of his kind. It’s wrong on his face, wrong on his body, for someone who’s caused so much grief to be crumbling under the weight of it himself.

“One of your friends again?” you ask.

“Yes,” Chrollo answers with a sad smile. “One of my oldest friends. And there is someone on this boat who is determined to take more from me.”

Your stomach churns nauseatingly. You aren’t sure if it’s the motion of the sea or the man in front of you causing it. Chrollo pulls you into his body, pressing his forehead against yours. He looks at you like he wants to absorb you through his skin. Catalog every detail, every sight, sound, and touch of you in the library of his mind. It feels too much like he’s bracing to lose it. To lose you.

“I see now that I’ve been an idiot,” he says. “Arrogant. An arrogant fool. I didn’t understand how close I was to losing all of you.”

Nausea. Cold, creeping nausea. You want him to drop this unfamiliar act, to become the strong and unwavering force he has always been to you. He can’t be weak. He’s made himself into the only support you have, and he can’t be weak now.

Something sharpens in his gaze.

“But I won’t make the same mistake again. I’ve been weak before, in a long distant past. Did you know that?” He smiles at you as you shake your head. “No, and I won’t be again, now or any time in our future.”

His hands tighten around your face.

“I will be anything, become anything, do anything it takes to keep what belongs to me.”

Nausea. Nausea. Your hands press against his chest in a weak attempt to put space between yourself and this man you don’t recognize. He can’t be this now. Fraying at the ends. He has to be your only constant. Your strong and unbroken constant.

At the pressure on his chest, Chrollo seems to find himself again. The edge in his eyes softens and he’s looking at you again like you’re his favorite dog, shivering while the thunder rages just outside your shelter. Firm hands press your face into the warmth of his chest.

“Chrollo, please. You’re scaring me.” The tremble of your voice muffles into the fabric of his shirt.

“Don’t be afraid, love,” he says. “Nothing is going to to take you from me. And if he tries to—“ his breath catches with a wave of emotion. The fingers in your hair tighten.

The air around you becomes thick with something powerful and suffocating, something cold and cruel that makes your joints lock and skin prickle. It fades as quickly as it comes, and Chrollo breathes slowly, deeply beside you. His hand caresses your hair in slow strokes, an imitation of comfort that does more to ground himself than to sooth you.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t cause you to worry about this.” Warm lips press into the crown of your head before he tugs you away from his body to look into your eyes. “You’re safe with me. You always are.”

There’s a knock on the door. He leaves you to turn and pluck his coat from the bed, taking the warmth of his body with him, and you are left standing in the chill of the room with cold skin and damp hair.

“I’ll only be gone a moment,” he says. “Dry yourself off quickly. We’ll be moving rooms again tonight.”

He steps into the hallway where another voice greets him, and the door clicks shut behind him.

Your hair is dripping onto the tile beneath your feet. Chrollo’s voice fades into the depths of the hallway, further, further, until it’s gone.

You lock the door with shaking hands.

[prpfs]

Hellooooooo! I’m looking for an 18+ [obviously] sci-fi alien rp! 🛸

—

A recent rediscovery of an old planet has caused a curious alien to come down to Earth. Many thought that the planet was nothing more than a giant green orb covered in strange creatures and large scaly lizards, but in the blink of an eye it became covered in the [what is by alien standards at least] small beginnings of industrialization and technological advancements. Instead of those big bipedal Permian era creatures, new life has been created. A species called.. humans?

Sent to observe and learn about these new creatures, an alien is sent to explore and discover the culture and dynamics between humans and their planet. Aliens think that humans are exceptionally ugly and terrifying to look at so no one wants to go down and look, but it is necessary to go down and document this new and intelligent life. Not to mention that humans and Earth could potentially contain chemicals or materials unique from other planets.

Humans come in all sorts of strange shapes and colors and have second skins on their bodies that make the layer underneath turn a funny color when you rip it off. Hell, they can’t even visit 70% of their own planet without suffocating or stand in sand before burning to death! Everything about them is so interesting and different that it’d almost be a shame to disturb them.

—🛸—

I’d like a MxM roleplay preferably, but honestly I am sort of curious about a potential FxM. I always play male characters and due to the nature of aliens it’d be nice if you were open to switching but a lot of the time I play dominant roles. I’m looking for a partner who is very literate and preferably very active and enthusiastic about world building and species creation. I take inspiration from the typical sci-fi classics and would enjoy something that has the potential to get very dark. Interesting characters and unique backstories are appreciated with a desire to explore the human psyche and figure out all the ways you can make a human laugh, cry, scream, or die.

If I play the human I have an idea for a comic shop owner who is deeply into sci-fi and is mostly unlucky in love. One day he meets a beautiful person who is finally interested only to realize.. surprise! It’s a creature from outer space! Having to introduce his new lover [or deal with a stalker if you want to get spicy] to his fellow humans and teaching the alien earth traditions, potentially being horrified at their true goal with him and his fleshy human form..

If I play the alien I have an idea for a curious alien creature who takes on the appearance of a human to save their fragile human psyche from unimaginable horrors! They learn all about human cultures and traditions and find out about the delicious and irresistible substance known as human sweat, becoming painfully addicted to the flavor and discovering just how incredible all the different fluids a human has feels. Perhaps he can even taste things like emotions, simply playing around with the creatures to see what else they can provide.

Initially thinking of humans as simple extraction bags for material, he eventually learns how beautiful the Earth is and demands that his people either leave the humans alone or learn to co-exist with them peacefully. Or, depending on interactions, perhaps he could see humans as pets or lower lifeforms of some kind and accidentally break his new toy..

—🛸—

This will contain things like body horror, dead dove, bestiality, potential racism, classism, homophobia, transphobia, etc.. and just generally unsettling things. Obviously the plot can be tweaked to add more lore and whatnot and we can brainstorm about the species of aliens. I’d like for us to have multiple secondary characters to fill the world and maybe even play around with different dynamics to see what is best. I am fine with 🍪 characters and plots though I don’t really know how they’d work outside of the aforementioned darker moments of rp, but we can discuss that later.

The kinks I’d love to play with are impregnation, breeding, aphrodisiacs, pegging, non-con/dub-con, unfair power dynamics, slave/master, and more! I have no limits and would enjoy it if we could be friends! I’ll be using IRL faceclaims and Discord. 👽

give a like and anon will get back to you

[earthstellar]

Rewatching Transformers G1 S2: Episode 1: Autobot Spike

Yes, this is where the Surprised Ratchet meme image comes from:

This episode has a lot going on including near-death of a human character on screen, body horror/a Frankenstein plot, and some genuinely unsettling scenes mostly made creepy due to the combination of some interesting dialogue/voice acting and typical G1 Quality. 

And Spike shoots Starscream in the ass mid-flight, which is fantastic. 

He also shoots his dad, which is less fantastic. 

Being a horror nerd, I love this episode, so here we go! 

Gonna put this below a cut because I’m taking a lot of screenshots here:

You can watch the whole episode on YouTube here in 4 parts, if you want to watch along! 

Alright, so it opens with Sparkplug trying to create “Autobot X”, which is straight up just a Frankenstein’s Monster of autobot parts. It’s weirdly creepy, and vaguely reminiscent of the infamous Ratchet-Megatron fusion in the Marvel comics.

I want to point out that Sparkplug says “I wanna see what I can do with a lotta spare Autobot parts and some human ingenuity” before the reveal shot above, and that’s horrific if you think about it for more than like, three seconds. 

It also may have been the origins of the MECH plot line in TFP, actually! Very similar body horror type thing going on. Anyway.

It works briefly, but it flips out and has to get shut down. 

Ironhide fires a laser, problem solved, nobody’s worried. They put Autobot X in storage, because surely a rampantly aggressive seemingly sentient pastiche of random Autobot parts is nothing to worry about. It’s fine. 

Wheeljack is like, hell yeah, I’ll help you work on it later. Which is when we get the Surprised Ratchet image, because yeah, I bet Ratchet’s freaked out a little since this thing is made of SPARE AUTOBOT PARTS. 

Then we’re swept immediately into a fight with Megatron, as many Seekers as you can fit in frame at one time, and Soundwave. 

For whatever reason, Bumblebee shows up driving through a bunch of partially blown up missile/rocket components, with Spike in the driver’s seat. Even Spike is like, dude, why are we here? And Bumblebee is just like, I mean, we couldn’t NOT show up. lmao

Unsurprisingly, Bumblebee gets shot-- In alt-mode, with Spike inside. Uh oh. 

Megatron leaves, because Frank Welker can only voice so many characters at once, and our attention is turned to the carnage. 

Ratchet is like, sure, I can fix Bumblebee right up! Meanwhile, Ironhide is like oh god, oh my god, is this how you hold a human??? Is it dead??? Optimus is gonna be pissed. 

So Optimus rolls up like, listen, take him to the hospital, come on. Ratchet lets him in the back of his ambulance mode, and Prowl goes with him so that he can throw his emergency lights on to give the illusion of a police escort, ensuring the drive is even quicker. 

(I miss the days when Prowl wasn’t a total asshole.) 

It cuts pretty quickly to Spike in an operating theatre; Apparently getting shot by alien space lasers isn’t conducive to human health: 

It cuts again to the attending physician standing at Spike’s beside, presumably in ICU although they appear to be in a private room, with Sparkplug on the other side of the bed. 

The doctor says “Hmm, if only there were a way of separating Spike’s mind from his body while we work...” Which, uh, what? What surgeon says that? You can sort of already do that in actual human medicine, it’s called an induced coma. 

But sure, we need exposition here, I get it. The screenplay here is tight. Sparkplug says he has an idea...

Back at the Autobot hangout, things seem fairly chill, considering. 

Ratchet is welding Bumblebee’s ass in alt-mode, while Bumblebee complains about how long it’s taking. lol 

Meanwhile, Wheeljack and Sparkplug somehow have Spike hooked up to a Ghostbusters colander helmet, which will hopefully transfer his mind into the malfunctioning/in stasis Autobot X frame. Yikes. 

It works! Spike is now also Autobot X. We will call him Spike X for short. 

And for some reason, Spike saying ��D-Da-ad?” with this faceplate expression is incredibly funny to me, while also being really weird and creepy: 

However, this is only cool for like two seconds, at which point Spike X truly starts to lose his shit. 

It gets real creepy here, with Spike X saying in a very oddly flat inflection “Why? Why did you do this to me? Why?” and it’s pretty wild. There’s even a mild strobe effect for a few frames. 

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker try to help calm him down, but Spike X throws them both across the room. 

Optimus is like, oh shit, we made a giant metal teenager. Stop him, but use low power, because if the Autobot X frame is damaged too much, then Spike’s consciousness may not be able to be returned to his actual human body. 

Note that Optimus says this in a pretty relaxed way, then levels a shoulder mounted cannon straight at Spike X, which is incredibly funny. 

It quickly gets deeply weird and creepy again when Spike X is temporarily able to talk with his dad, and states that “it’s hard to think, like something is telling me to do... bad.... things!” Yiiiiiikes. 

He gets it under control again, apologises to his dad for the outburst (I think it’s OK, Spike), and Optimus says that he’s cool to stay at the base and he’ll be taken care of while his human body heals up. 

However, oh shit, the Decepticons have found out that Spike now has an Autobot frame-- And they know he’s unstable. 

Starscream tries to roast him, but Megatron’s like, shut up nerd, we’re gonna make Spike X turn against the Autobots! It’s a good plan, I’m serious! 

Back at the Autobot base, Ratchet is still welding Bumblebee’s ass, and Bumblebee is still complaining. Wheeljack hooks up Spike X with some network television, and he’s watching... Frankenstein. Because the six year old kids who are the intended audience of G1 may not be familiar with the source material for this episode’s plot, I guess, which is fair. (Frank Welker nails it here as Dr. Frankenstein, but that’s unsurprising, because he always nails it. I think he’s also voicing Frankenstein’s Monster, but I haven’t checked the credits.)

Obviously, this isn’t a great thing for Spike X to be watching at this particular moment, so he freaks out again. 

Wheeljack and Sparkplug come running, and somehow Sparkplug is covering ground faster than Wheeljack. It’s fine, don’t worry about it. 

Ratchet’s progress on welding Bumblebee’s ass is interrupted by Spike X breaking through the wall and seemingly flying away. lmao 

They just sort of stand there, like, well, we lost him, I guess. 

Bumblebee is like, alright, gonna go get my boy. 

So he drives out of this massive crater, and Ratchet is like, wait! Your radio transmitter still doesn’t work. (Apparently their radio transmitters are located in their asses. Fascinating.) 

Spike X sits on a cliff and says “what a drag”, which, yeah. Being a Frankenstein space robot would be cool if not for the immense psychological damage this is absolutely causing. 

However, he also calls himself a “walking garbage can” in a completely genuine put-out tone of voice, which absolutely sells that this is a teenager in a giant robot body and I laughed, I won’t lie. 

Some of Megatron’s cronies locate him and hold his position. 

At the same time, Bumblebee shows up and tries to talk Spike X down from a random destructive rampage. 

He throws Bumblebee off the cliff! And Megatron’s squad is rolling up. (Well, flying up, anyway.) Uh oh! 

Spike X is like, hell yeah, bring it. More ass to kick. And it turns out his arm mounted cannon works, because he shoots Starscream directly in the undercarriage and says “YEAH, MAN!” and it’s so genuine. 

This is the perfect reaction to being a teenager in a giant robot body and just suddenly being able to shoot lasers and kick ass. Look at how happy he is, that he just shot Starscream in the butt mid-air. It’s awesome.

Unfortunately, the Seekers do actually beat him up, although Spike X puts up a good fight. 

Megatron then takes advantage of his further weakened state, and swoops in to pitch a classic “Join Us” speech. Spike X calls him “Megacrumb”, which is probably acceptable because he’s absolutely concussed by this point. 

Megatron is willing to overlook this for the sake of teaming up. 

Bumblebee eavesdrops, and drives away-- But Spike X gives Megatron a handshake, and agrees to “make them pay”. Oh shit! 

For some reason, Optimus and Ironhide are back at the rocket facility to watch a launch. Because I guess whatever, this whole situation is chill, let’s go watch rockets? IDK 

But either way, Optimus roasts the inferior quality of human technology, while Bumblebee just drives up on site despite Military Police levelling sniper rifles at him in order to report that Megatron is taking advantage of Spike X’s inability to think clearly. 

Optimus says “I feared something like this might happen”, which, if that were the case, why not take actions to prevent it, maybe? Not the strongest Optimus episode. 

To be fair though, Ironhide transforms and is already driving off before Optimus even gives the order to roll out, so I guess Ironhide either really wants to kick some ass or cares slightly more about Spike X’s wellbeing. He has no dialogue here, so we can only guess. 

They get there, with even more Autobots who showed up at some point in the rapid scene cuts here, and Spike X is super unhinged-- Charging his weapons, he starts speaking in a more strained and angry way, and engages the Autobots! 

He hits Optimus with what appears to be a chest laser? It’s hard to see. But it’s super effective: 

Optimus pleads with Spike X to calm down, but Spike X straight up pulls MEGATRON IN GUN MODE out of his sub-space and shoots Optimus directly in the faceplate. Damn! 

The Seekers and Soundwave drop in, and start rapid firing on all the Autobots present. 

We get some great shots of Megatron in his gun alt-mode as he tries to convince Spike X to keep attacking. Optimus and Bumblebee hide behind cover, attempting to bring Spike X to his senses long enough to disarm him. 

Suddenly, Wheeljack and Sparkplug roll up; Sparkplug attempts to talk some sense into Spike, too. 

Optimus and Bumblebee are at a loss; If they take out Spike X, the damage might take him out for good. 

However, Sparkplug fails in his efforts to talk to Spike X; He SHOOTS HIS DAD AND KNOCKS HIM OFF THE CLIFF. 

Can you imagine if they put an ad break here? lmao 

Luckily, he has like, a claw machine arm, and he catches his dad before he becomes a human smoothie. 

This shocks Spike X badly enough that while he still has Megatron in gun mode, he takes a few pot shots at the Seekers and the Decepticons decide it’s time to bounce, so Megatron bails too. 

He apologises for almost killing his dad, his dad is like hey no beef man, and it cuts to them in the hospital: 

Sparkplug takes his son’s body back to the Autobot base (that sounds worse than it is), and they prepare to transfer him back into his body. 

What’s extra funny here is that he nervously laughs and says “Hope you fixed this thing up good, Ratchet!” And Ratchet says absolutely nothing. Not a word. 

It’s a success! Dad and son hug, totally not even addressing anything that happened this whole episode, because that’s a job for a therapist. 

Ratchet, who continues to not really care about any of this, tells Wheeljack “You know, I could probably repair that mess, but I think it’s best that I don’t.” (This is a play on what Wheeljack said earlier in the episode when he offered to help Sparkplug fix up Autobot X to begin with.) 

I love how tired Wheeljack looks. LOL

Spike, now recovered, leaves us with a great question to close out the episode: “I wonder what it’d be like for a robot mind to be transferred... to a human!” 

Depending on what kind of kid you were, his question was either imagination fuel for fun humanformer ideas, or was a blatantly bad question indicating he learned nothing and providing nightmare fuel trying to imagine one of the Autobots losing their shit in a human body the same way Spike lost his shit while inhabiting Autobot X. 

Anyway, great episode! 10/10 Scary, funny, creepy, Starscream got shot in the ass by a teenager. 

[tsuumu]

beautiful stranger.

oikawa x reader

a short piece in which oikawa tooru approaches you on a idyllic evening. it’s a little awkward though, since you’re trying to die.

word count: 3.3k

tw: indirect and direct implications of suicide.

your warm hands stay gripped onto the metal rails in front of you, applying enough force to watch your knuckles turn white. you find yourself doing it over and over until your fingers numb from the continued pressure. alone, you’re mulling over mundane affairs. you’d rather not be thinking about them but find this loop all too easy to fall into.

the shadow of the railing casts over a large canal, its water sifting freely, far beneath you. it laps over itself, slithers of fish break the transparent surface as they swim. some of their scales rise to kiss the sunlight in opaque relfections.

thin layers of petals scatter the ground beneath your feet that have slipped from overhead trees and continue to flutter down freely. glowers of dying sunlight seep through the shapes of them as they fall.

in this moment, autumn is alive.

it’s really lovely right now.

you’re here, all caught up in chasing that feeling of peace. safety in an open space. you have to cope with that fact that tranquility never comes easily for you.

there’s nothing that should be leaving you as deeply unsettled as you are. you’ve learnt to largely ignore feeling so overwhelmed, though it stirs and resurfaces times you wish it wouldn’t.

what’s bugging you is that you can’t quite get a grasp on your own life.

for starters, everything lacks coherent meaning. to you, there’s something constantly missing every single day. nothing purchasable, nothing attainable through hard-work and any level of perseverance. truly, it affects you so much so that even just standing here, feet glued to the very spot that is undeniably ‘lovely’, brings you nothing but unimaginable sadness.

earlier, you brushed it away as an off day but you know that’s not true. you’ve been feeling like this all the time.

it is, therefore, not at all abnormal to wonder: can a person have such thing as an off life?

you really don’t like to think about things like this too much. once you begin to muse over deep naysay you find yourself snowballing.

solutions are painfully unobtainable and it’s generally as productive as chasing pavements.

do i really enjoy being alone? or am i obsessed with the sensation loneliness brings?

“you know, if you stare long enough, you might end up wanting to jump in.”

at once, your vision snaps up, taken aback by the additional voice. you hadn’t realised that during your mindless lamenting, another person had quietly joined you by the evening canal-side.

fair skinned, dark eyed, chocolate curls brushed neatly over his features and cowlicks that bob against the light gusts of wind.

a boy offers you a smile, before shifting his feet towards the empty space to your left. you can’t seem to process him, staring at the empty spot he’d been in seconds earlier.

you’re not supposed to be here right now.

“i was totally kidding by the way.” he adds. “that was really dark, sorry.”

you’re silent in return, eyes casting back onto the running stream. the water is shallow and the fall long, so jumping in would certainly prove fatal. you know all of this too well. it’d disturb the fish who are just here to live, though, it’ll only be for a moment. they won’t know any better.

you don’t really know what to say. it’s troubling that he’s here and hearing it out loud disturbs you, like a direct call out. at no point were you prepared for any kind of conversation prior.

the two of you stand there in complete silence. it’s not particularly awkward, you just don’t know why he’s approached you so easily, talking to you like he’s known you well enough to make outlandish jokes.

asking directly for his intentions seems rude, so you’ll put up with it until he leaves.

“do you always come here?” the stranger pipes up once more, though his focus doesn’t leave the water. you breathe in deeply.

“sometimes.”

“oh, i see.”

his palms lay flat and he pushes gently off of the rails, only to fall back onto them with all his weight. he does it again, repeating the process over and over at a steady pace. you stay hunched over, keeping your distance. he doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest though, clearly absorbed in his surroundings.

“it’s like a set out of a movie, this place. seems like somewhere i’d ask my girlfriend to marry me.”

your tongue rolls around in your mouth.

yes. you think. his girlfriend would most likely be thrilled-over the top-squealing if he did. that’s entirely his business.

you really don’t care to hear of other people’s romantic endeavours.

is it out of jealousy? you don’t know. maybe.

this conversation is meaningless. you wish he’d go away sooner so you could have this time to yourself.

also, jealousy is an ugly word. you hate it.

he stops his movement with a exhale of air, tilting his head back to blink up at the warm sky. the last touches daylight mingle with the oncoming darkness, creating a deep tinge of orangey-yellow.

“when’s your birthday?”

‎a petal lands on the bridge of your hand, sticking to your skin.

“do you want my social security number?” you deject.

“what? no!”

“are you sure? really, i’ll give it to you.”

“no!”

“then why are you asking for my personal information?”

‎

he falls silent for a moment, before mumbling out a small: “just wondering.”

a tinge of guilt creeps over you at his apologetic tone. you admit, your answers thus far must make you seem like a completely unapproachable asswipe. you’re not at all. you just aren’t all that sure how to make small talk with strangers when you’re trying to part with the world by dinner time.

it feels like an unexpected guest at your very lonesome party.

“it’s (insert birth month).” you fold.

he purses his lips, face contorting a little.

“i see.”

he doesn’t continue down that path after your response. the both of you return to a mutual silence, staring into the portrait scenery ahead. the stream fills the soundscape pleasantly. fallen leaves have gathered at the base of your shoes, brushing over the tip gently with the turn of the wind. you observe them quietly.

“can i ask you another question?”

he seems a tad more timid now.

he definitely thinks you’re the type to blow up and give him an earful about minding his own business, doesn’t he?

you’d never raise your voice. in general, but also because it’d break the comfort of the scenery the world has so generously given you.

“sure.”

“do you believe in soulmates?”

‎the question is a little random but not impossible to answer by any means.

“no.”

“what?”

“i said not really.”

“you said no.”

“that’s the same thing.”

“...fair enough.”

‎he exhales out, sounding a little disheartened by your curt response. perhaps to him, you were a tough nut to crack; an ambiguity for him to understand. were all people like that? you weren’t playing hard to get, in fact, you’d answered every single enquiry he has had to offer. his efforts are amusing, though.

you raise a brow at him.

“i’m sorry, was that the wrong answer?”

for a moment, he doesn’t reply, stuffing his hands into his pockets, gazing down at the head of his shoe. pivoting his ankle, he draws small circles with the tip of his foot into the ground, into the dead leaves.

“not at all.”

“your expression says otherwise.”

“um, it was just a bit bleak, i guess.”

you let your arms droop way over the railing, fingers wading through the autumn air. you’d never really taken the concepts of soulmates to heart. it was romantic bullshit put out by somebody looking for a fantasy to indulge in. out of seven billion people, there could hardly be a singular person made for you. people aren’t born for other people. if that were the case, it wouldn’t be a rose-tinted fantasy. it would be suffocating. where’s the freedom in love?

“most people always answer like you these days anyway.”

“oh, sorry.”

he looks up at you, tilting his head.

“no, don’t be.”

back to a default mute, left with nothing but the faint chitter of overhead swallows and the odd rumble of cars passing by.

“tooru.” he states, after a while.

“what?”

“tooru. my name is tooru.”

“oh, okay.”

“oikawa tooru.”

‎your fingertips have become flushed. maybe you’d pressed a little too hard on that cold surface earlier. now that all your blood has come rushing back, the tingling sensation feels foreign.

his name slips of the tongue rather easily, don’t you think?

“nice to meet you, oikawa tooru.”

“it is nice, isn’t it?”

for the first time, your gazes meet properly and you offer him a crooked smile.

“i suppose so.”

off the side of the canal, almost right under the bridge, a small cluster of ducks have gathered. adult ducks tend to be considerably larger than its offspring —as is factual with any animal— so it’s easy for you to tell that there’s only one parent there, along with three of its ducklings.

people like to come to the canal to feed the ducks bread, though you’d heard somewhere that it’s actually quite bad for them.

you wonder. do ducks care particularly if one of its ducklings die? will it do something with the body, cry out, hurt?

or is grief exceptionally human?

“i don’t actually have a girlfriend, by the way.”

he sifts out his phone, tapping the screen and sliding it open. you watch him turn it to its side, before leaning over to take a picture of the depths below. you just watch.

“oh, okay.”

he doesn’t elaborate, focused intently on his current task. your attention returns to the shape of the birds, bobbing up and down rhythmically.

there’s only so much you can say about the canal. yeah, it’s beautiful. you don’t have the right vocabulary to describe the way it makes you feel. honestly, it feels abysmal to even try. you’re convinced though, that you’re in love with the way the water moves. you’ve always appriciated it whenever you walk past, told yourself jokingly that you could die there if you had to.

funny, that.

beautiful things tend to hurt in an unbearably amplified manner.

“say, tooru?”

“yeah?”

“if i climbed over the railing right now, would you stop me?”

you’re both fixated on the paddling now. his phone is back in his pocket, elbows propped up. he hums, taking his time to think over your question.

“most likely.”

your fingers meet one another and the tingling spreads to your palms.

“i’m thinking of jumping, actually.”

“oh.”

“yeah.”

“my joke earlier...”

“yeah.”

his fingers drum rhythmically on the slender poles under the rail top.

“then i’d jump right in with you.”

the corners of his mouth tug slightly at your perplexity, supressing a chortle. he’s not laughing at you, though. it’s more a gesture of understanding. this tooru doesn’t know you at all, yet he gets it. he gets it all too well.

you get that he gets it.

tooru clears his throat. “bad day?”

“that’s an understatement.”

“well, you’re not a bad person for feeling the way you do.”

by now, the ducks have swam away, you can make out the general shape of them, melding into the distant, mute colours of the bankside. the sky look minutes away from being set alight. time has never been your friend, you see.

“i feel crazy for trying.” you’re rather blunt about it.

“fair enough.”

“…is that all?”

“well, do you want me to tell you that you’re not crazy?”

you lull into silence.

“i don’t know.”

with that, you shift to angle yourself so that he’s in your immediate peripheral, the thought of gawking at him seems ridiculous but you want to look at him. you find it hard to do it up front for some reason.

“i’m no suicide expert, but it’d probably be lonely doing something like that by yourself. wouldn’t it be comforting to know someone’s falling with you?”

your fingers run absently across the jagged surface of the rails, the old paint has been chipped away at, after all its years of protecting. in all it’s history, had anyone else hitched themselves over this very rail?

were they asking for the same answers as you?

god. that’s awful. you don’t want to think about that.

you catch each others’ eyes for a second but you resign quickly, focusing as hard as you can on the flecks of black on your thumb.

“that would be selfish of me.”

“not if i’m offering.”

you scramble to look anywhere else, abruptly turning. you’re facing away from the canal, stomach fluttering a little as you fall onto the rail’s length.

in all your time by yourself, you’d never been given an irrefutable reason to ‘be’. it’d always been a live-for-the-day type of experience. if a day is good, you’re utterly blissed out by it, totally in love with life. if it’s bad, you have little reason to go on. nothing particularly interests you enough to dedicate your days persuing it. fame seems tedious, looks are temporary, a six figure career sounds like emotional jail-time, or a slow, schedule-filled trek to death. whichever description sounds more sufferable.

you see, in essence, we all get off at the same bus stop. some journeys are simply shorter than others.

“you’re guilt-tripping me out of it.”

“i’m not!”

you’ve never stopped to ask yourself what it is you want.

death interests you, you suppose. though, you don’t see the reason to wait around and pretend to ignore it until one day it drags you kicking and screaming.

“oikawa tooru, don’t you have better things to be doing than offering to jump off bridges with strangers?”

that coy smile tugs at his lips once more. nothing you say seems to phase him. it’s like he knows you. he’s thinking: yeah, this isn’t anything out of the ordinary for them.

“should i? you look at that water like it’s someone you hate. or love. maybe both. i got curious.”

“curious?”

“yes. and quite frankly, you’ve left me curious. practically starving. you haven’t even told me your name.”

“my name doesn’t matter.”

“boo. that’s not true at all.”

his tongue pokes out, tugging at the corner of his eye. you shake your head, genuinely unable to hide your amusement, turning to him properly this time.

and really, it’s like the canal side and oikawa tooru were made from the same stardust. he blends right into the picture, as effortlessly pretty as the rest of it.

the strands of hair out of place, a little disheveled from the breeze. the scarf buried into his nose, glasses a little misty from the heat of his own breath but when they clear, you see his eyes all too well.

you’d like to tuck those strands into place, they’re bothering you just a little.

“(y/n).”

your brows furrow a little.

really, this could all very well be some sort of fantastical dream. as nice as it all is, it feels painfully unreal. boys don’t look like that on autumn evenings or offer to die with you.

that’s it.

tooru must be a figment of your imagination.

no. wrong. not a dream.

this is a corner of your mind you haven’t ventured into yet, psychologically, some kind of safety net. a sliced off piece of reality you’ve come to hide in because you’ve utterly lost your mind. he is nothing but a part of you that makes you feel at ease as you come to terms with your self-destruction.

god, that bothers you more. you are crazy.

your hand extends, reaches out all on its own.

you just want to know if he’s real.

oikawa tooru glances down for a moment, he’s probably wondering about you, what’s left you in such a state. though, he’s happy to slide his palm against yours, latching onto it. he shakes once, twice. a little more. tightens his hold a bit.

the weight of his fingers as they brush lightly against your palm is fantastical. he’s so warm. you can feel it spread through you from the pads of your fingers.

he’s very real.

tooru has rather pretty hands.

the contact makes you feel kind of delirious, a produce of being utterly touch-starved. just a simple touch. you’re embarrassed to say it but it takes everything inside of you not to start weeping or hold on frantically in case he does disappear, do something bizzare that’ll scare him away forever.

hey, tooru. are you made of honey?

“well, (y/n), i’m offering you my life right now.”

the sun has set foot on the horizon, plunging in ever so slightly. as a child, the thought of night scared you, feeling largely betrayed by the sun’s farewell. now, it’s a unique kind of comfort to see the moon. it’s as lonely as those who lay their eyes upon it.

“i don’t want it.”

his fingers slip downwards against the dips of your palm.

“you don’t?”

“no, i mean... i don’t want death. not right now..”

you don’t even want to think about it anymore. funny, how things like that work. you were so sure of it. today was the day. your dark rendezvous. weren’t you itching for it?

this bastard.

this man you’ve never met. he clasps onto your hand once and suddenly he stops your nauseating rollercoaster of thoughts and leaves you wondering if, actually, you’d like to see the canal-side again tomorrow, or in fifty years.

who are you really, oikawa tooru?

“no?”

“yeah.”

“then what do you want to do?”

“stay right here, i think.”

your fingers curl, maintaining your hold on him. you should be shy or awkward about this whole ordeal but so you’re desperate for that warmth to continue.

you both stand there, facing one another, hands extended. it’s a little robotic looking. you’re pretty stiff but very sure this is what feels right.

to you, existence is based solely on feeling your way through stages of life. that sickeningly sweet innocence of youth. childhood memories that to you, are dwindled husks of gold, valuable in some aspects but almost meaningless in others. to laugh or to cry allows an individual to create a deep-set connection to the environment around them. it is no longer passing scenery but a moment in your life you once lived through.

that’s beautiful, isn’t it?

unfortunately, emotion provides both a living fantasy and the potential for agony. life is not sweet, nor innocent. it is what you make of it.

it is what your mind is forced to make of it.

and as much as one wishes they were as coddled and loved as they were children, life beyond those years is lonely, difficult and more than you were ever capable of.

were you weak? perhaps.

but maybe people aren’t built for life. we’re all weak.

and realistically, if you are unable to clamber over one obstacle after another -established by those before you- you’re doomed to fall behind.

that will hurt. you will hurt unforgivably because self-worth is no longer a beautiful gift of internal discovery and love but another way to be measured and downsized externally. a practice that leads to hatred. a desire to die.

that’s really where it all began for you. a romantic, a poet at heart, living inside your own, kinder world. that is until reality knocked on your door, invited itself in, just to set the entire thing on fire and leave you as vulnerable as the day you were born.

you aren’t allowed to hide. it comes looking for you eventually.

your stance on life hasn’t changed, afterall, you’ve spent nights mourning over how much it can hurt to live. to fall asleep exhausted with yourself, only to wake up and do it all over again. what you do know, however, is that droning, lonely feeling isn’t there right now. that ongoing, battering ruckus inside your head has ceased. tooru, the strange magician, has left you thoughtless and a little dumb.

you like being this stupid. for once, there’s nothing intrusive prodding the inside of your head.

it’s frightfully quiet, actually. you don’t know what you’re feeling right now. how much time has passed since he’d made that awful joke?

his gaze is on your lingering contact, before lightly pulling you closer, twisting his wrist down so you’re holding hands. your gaze moves to the bankside. you feel comforted. maybe it isn’t death, maybe all you want is a hand to hold.

probably not. that is a stupid, sappy thought. you’re still fanatic about ending your life.

you were so close to doing it, without even really understanding what you were doing. the canal scenery is overpowering, numbing, if you will. without oikawa tooru, you may well have kissed those fishs’ fluorescent scales with your own two lips, as cold as ice with some unfortunate early-morning runner discovering you by twilight.

“we can do that.” he hesitates. “if i’m honest, i would have been pretty scared to jump.”

“yet you still offered?”

tooru hums merrily in confirmation.

“why?”

“because you’re cute.”

you can’t believe your own ears.

“what? seriously?”

“yeah. originally, i wanted your number but things took a small turn.”

you burst out in gutteral laughter, free hand back onto the railing for support. for a moment, you look at him, shaking your head in utter amazement.

“you’re a piece of work, tooru, you know?”

“yeah, i know.”

he smiles back at you. the shadows cast by the setting sun only make him all the more enigmatic.

now that you think about it, you can’t figure this guy out at all. it’s like staring at a wordless piece of paper and trying to find something legible.

“how do you know i won’t come back and repeat all of this tomorrow?”

tooru tilts his head ever so slightly, observing you. his eyes flutter down to your lips, speaking like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“because you told me your name.”

“what does that have to do with anything?”

“well, now that i know that, you’re no longer just a beautiful stranger.”

you understood now. he hadn’t just offered you his life, he’d offered you him. by living on, you’d accepted graciously. he knows that if you visit the canal side again, you’ll only remember this moment.

a bad moment that he, in all his glory, turned into a good one. the day you two first met.

oh, clever boy. he saved you.

though you must say, oikawa tooru, you’re very much mistaken.

you are the beautiful stranger.

a tear runs down your cheek, a little warmer than you could’ve expected.

one turns into two, slipping more and more. eventually, you’re standing over the canal, hand in hand with oikawa tooru, sobbing quietly as the water runs peacefully below the both of you.

[wornoutmouse]

Dio x black reader (18+)

Honestly, this is just my headcanon of Dio experiencing black girl magic for the first time. And throughout re-reading it I can't tell if I'm supposed to be horny, moved, or amused. I think this is my longest one

Chav: White Trash/Low ClassLove

Divots: Love handles but I wanted to be fancy

You were a cop that loved your job no matter the hardships.

Walking the streets of England was risky business as both a woman and a person of color so you had experienced numerous close calls with criminals that didn't take your training seriously. Your co-workers were peaceful enough, but you didn't miss the lustful glazes you would receive as you walked through the office every morning. Your boss, on the other hand, was a menace. Ever since you denied his advances when you first arrived, he's been making it his mission in life to make your life miserable. 

He, of course, was the reason you were standing outside at 11:00 in the night shivering under a night post. "That bloody chav, just wait till I move up in ranks!" you growled wrapping your trenchcoat tightly around your body as a soft gust of wind blew against you. 

The wind howled past your ears and for once you were glad for wearing your nautural hair out today as it braced fiercely against the strong winter winds. The night was quiet as everyone in their right mind had headed inside for the night but you couldn't help but feel as though eyes were trained on you. "Must be my nerves acting up again." you muttered rubbing your gloved hands together. You huffed causing cool white air to form in front of you. 

"Meow."

Shifting where you stood, you look around with only your eyes, trying to find the source of what you hope to be a newfound friend. A few feet to your right stood a thin tom cat walking hesitantly towards you. You crouch lowly, opening your coat to the feline, "Join me oh furry one, let us share our life source with each other!" 

 You chuckle at your own foolishness but stop as you watch in amazement as the cat seemed to be convinced as it stalks towards you. The cat was within your very grasp but before you could grab it, it jerked its head to gaze behind you, hissing with its back arched before it scampered off. "Huh, that's funny." 

 You stand back up before yelping as you back into someone standing behind you. "Oh excuse me." you say stepping to the side. "No need for apologize woman." a deep voice responds to you. The man was tall and you had to crane your neck just to simply gaze up at him. 

 Blue eyes gazed down at you through golden locks that fell beautifully over his face. Even though he had shown no sign of hostility, you felt great unease by simply standing near him. "Your declaration of neutrality for the cat moved me deeply." the strange man declared, and you couldn't help but giggle awkwardly at the obvious joke. "Yeah well, during times of need it's best to set aside differences." The man raised his hand to his chin in thought. "Couldn't have said it better myself."

 The man had yet to leave as his gaze became even more unsettling. His eyes traveled down and settled on your curvacious hips. "Um, can I help you sir?" you ask backing up slightly only for the tall man to evade the space once again. Under his breath, you could hear the man mutter, "Yes, you are perfect." 

You look up at the man one more time as your eyesight begins to fades to black.  

 When you came to, you find yourself lying down on a bed that was not your own. You were dressed loosely in nothing but a silk slip and you could feel goosebumps along your skin from being exposed to the cool air. "Wha-what?" You jerk your head at the shift in movement to your right. At first glance, you couldn't see anything residing in the dark shadows of the room. But having years of experience with being in dark places, your eyes quickly adjusted as you noticed the unfamiliar ways the shadows blended together.

 You stare blankly into the darkness, positive that something resided within the cover of it. You suck in a breath as you feel a small shift in temperature move past your face and you quickly turn your face to the other side of the room.

"As I thought, you adjust quickly to your surroundings." a voice rumbled from the darkness and you could hear your heart thump in your ears as two bright red eyes peered at you from the end of the bed. You brought your legs to your chest as you felt the bed dip. You watched with fearful eyes as your assailant crawled towards you. From the darkness, a hand reaches out at lightning speed taking hold of your ankle, dragging you towards them. "What do you want?!"

As if oblivious to your agitation, a calloused hand takes hold of your thigh, gripping the large expanse of skin tightly. "While you are larger than preferred, I assume it is a given if I desire a woman with hips wide enough to effectively deliver me respectable offspring." You sputter as you feel your face warm, "Offspring?! What in the hell are you talking about you deviant!" You attempt to throw a punch only for your wrists to be taken captive by much larger ones. "This temper of yours may be a problem however." The man chuckled, "Though I supposed that too is a given due to your, 'ethnic' background." You glare through the darkness up at the deranged man, "You have some nerve." 

As if finally acknowledging you as a sentient being, he gazes up at you, eyebrows furrowed and red glowing eyes determined. "Young woman, fear not and rejoice for you have been chosen for the highest honor imaginable!" You tense as the man comes closer to your face, 'Damn it, it's always the pretty ones.' you silently think to yourself. Though there was a large shift in eye color, this was indeed the man you met outside.

 "You have been chosen personally by I Dio Brando! To become his queen in the new empire I shall forge in my own image!" 

 Many emotions flowed through your mind at that bold statement, but in the end, humor won out as you burst into laughter in the man, Dio's face. Dio tilted his head in slight confusion before moving on, dawning a triumphant face one again.

"I know not what you find amusing, but I am ready to implant my seed deep inside your womb!" At that, you suddenly realize the reality of the situation you were in, "You can't be serious, release me now!" Dio chuckled humorously, "It is okay to feel frightened, but I assure you, I will make this pleasurable for you as well." You open your mouth to retort, Dio, serges forward latching onto your lips with painful passion. You feel a shiver journey up your spine as Dio's larger hands hold your waist squeezing your love divots.

Dio releases you from his lip-lock with a loud smack as a thin strand of saliva connects the two of you. You blink; slightly dazed as you take in Dio's equally as flushed face, "What's the matter playboy? Cat got your tongue?" Dio frowned at your teasing as he shifted in place, "Have you somehow cast a spell on me? There is no other way to explain how someone with such prestige as me could possibly become undone by a simple kiss."

 Dio serges forward once again capturing your plump lips into his own with such fervor, you would think he was searching for something. You moan softly into the kiss as Dio's tongue explored your mouth, caressing every inch of it with purpose. Tugging your lower lip in between his teeth as he retreats. He looks at you for a while with visible confusion before speaking again, "The only other answer for this is obvious. You were bestowed onto me by the gods carved perfectly to aid me on my journey" 

 You quirked an eyebrow as you breathe shallowly, mind seemingly clouded with your newfound lust. "I don't know much about what your babbling on about, but I'll let you carry on." You fell back as you are folded over by Dio, legs propped high in the air. "Though I feel that cunnilingus isn't needed for the task at hand, I hold the desire to taste you." You roll your eyes as you listened to the monologue 'Dio' declared to himself.

Internally, you knew that this was a bad idea and only evil could follow you in being involved with this man but some unseen force was keeping you from resisting as you lied compliant under the larger man. Maybe he was right and 'the gods' placed you here for a purpose. Or maybe you were drugged. The most obvious answer, though you hate to admit, was the fact that you hadn't gotten laid in so long, you were willing to accept charity cases.

 

Dip looked down at you with an emotion that even I, the author am unable to describe. While I would love to say it was fondness, that just wasn't possible for how short of a time you've known each other. The only other word I can think out would maybe be admiration. 

 Dio was one to go above and beyond putting his heart into everything he did, but your simplicity aroused him so greatly it was rather concerning. Your attitude towards him ensured that you would be the perfect queen when he molded you accordingly. Your looks were only a bonus, slender legs heightening your perspective making you at least 6 feet in height though that was no novelty considering his large build. 

Plump lips with a curious sliver of pink covering the entrance of your bottom lip as they parted so beautifully. The taste of them sent his head spinning as if he was addicted, the best kind of addiction. Your skin though shrouded in darkness, shined so brightly in the moonlight that he would have thought you were glowing with an otherwordly power. Dio once again bows his head and captures your luscious lips within his to experience the euphoria once again.

 He may have said that you should be honored to be in his presence but at the moment he felt the greatest honor for being one of the few and one of the last men that would be allowed to bed you. The small whimpers you released as he explored your mouth tasted like the sweetest nectar. He released you and watched your breast heave from the passion he released. 

 He would never admit to these claims but at that moment Dio looked as if he had struck gold as he pulled up your slip and kissed into the crevices of your stomach. You shiver as more skin was exposed to the cool air and you would have sworn Dio was even colder. "If you would, please allow me to taste you." 

Your eyes widened for even you could tell that this manner of speaking was not the norm for Dio. His face was unusually flushed as his red eyes gazed up at you pleading for your permission. "Carry on." was all you said before he continued on his journey, kissing your inner thighs which to your horror, were bare as the day you were born. "Sir, may I ask where my undergarments reside?!" you ask thoroughly embarrassed causing Dio to dawn that shit-eating smirk he has carried since the moment you met.

 "I saw no point to them as I knew they would be off soon enough." You pouted as Dio peppered kisses on your navel before finally licking your clitoris with his rather rough tongue. Dio felt as though he reached Nirvana as he drank in your pleasured moans. The taste of you on his tongue was like the finest wine and he couldn't tell if it was from his carnivorous attributes or were you truly a diamond in the rough. 

 You grip the sheets below you as Dio used his tongue to caress your folds before delving deeper into your warm heat. Dio had long since grown used to the feeling of being cold but the way your warmth surrounded him made him miss the feeling. Internally he debated with himself if this is what love felt like or if this was just the effects of having your thick thighs clamped around his head. While feasting, Dio couldn't help by growl lowly as your nimble finger-combed through his hair only to clench as he made a peculiar lick to your upper walls.

 Feeling satisfied for now he sits up chuckling at your whine as you reached out for him. "I was not going to undress more than necessary for this but I feel as though you have earned it my pet." Dio removed his jacket and shirt exposing his impressive muscles. You salivate thinking of the power behind each pectoral that would now be used on you. 

Dio once again takes hold of your legs, but instead of positioning to enter you, he lifts you off the bed holding you in his arms. "I shall honor this experience by trying a position I have never done before."  You are slightly woozy from the shift in elevation as you wrap your arms around Dio's neck with such a force and normal man would have cried out. 

 (but not dio cause he isn't like other girls)

 Dio kisses you as he presses a hesitant finger inside of you. You moan as he trails kisses down your neck. He was extremely hesitant to even nibble you due to his fangs but the way your looked drowning in pleasure was too great to not take advantage of. You jump as you feel something sharp pierce your neck but not deep enough to draw blood. You spasm on his fingers as your first orgasm takes over you. "God yes!" Dio smirked at your blissed face as he once again takes your lower lip into his mouth.

 "Yes, thank your God for giving you such satisfa-" before he could finish, you lifted yourself and wrapped your legs around his neck, putting all your weight on him in order to cause him to fall back on the ground. "Don't ruin this please." You say looking down at him. 

Dio couldn't look more in love as he takes hold of your ass molding it in between his large hands. You scoot down to Dio's still clocked cock. Massaging it gently, before reaching in and pulling it out, you release a loud gasp at the sight. His cock was enormous, far bigger than any you had seen before. "Don't look so surprised my dear, from now on only expect the most of me." 

You gulp shallowly as you shyly lick the shaft trying to find a way to lube the monstrosity. Dio grits his teeth and closes his eyes as a way to truly feel the pleasure you were delivering to him. You knew you couldn't take him all the way in but damn it if you weren't going to try. As you sucked down, you felt a hand come to rest on your head pushing you forward as Dio grunted. "Take it pet, you can do it." 

You whimper as you feel the head of his cock touch the back of your throat and continuing down. You do your best to breathe out your nose since it was obvious that Dio wasn't letting you stop anytime soon. You had only a little left to go but you knew you wouldn't be able to so you tapped out. Dio smirked grabbing your waist and sitting you down on his cock. Briefly, you rock back and forth covering it in your fluids before you feel like your ready.

"Because you've been so good for me pet, I'll allow you this gift though I personally feel that simply being in my presence you should be wetter than the ocean!" in his had, there is a small box containing a flask. "Alcohol?" you asked sniffing lightly over the entrance. Before you can raise the drink to your lips, Dio snatches it away, "It's oils my dear." you laugh a little scratching the back of your head.

 Dio's face reddened from the sound of your laughter but he shook his self out of his stupor before you could notice. Taking the lube back, you pour a generous amount on your hand before massaging it along with Dio's cock which had now turned a bit pink from being unattended for so long. "How long is this thing?" you mutter silently to yourself making Dio smirk flicking his hair haughtily. "I don't think I should tell you for your mortal mind would not be able to comprehend its glor-" Dio choked on his words quickly reaching out to hold your plush thighs as you slid down a 5th of the way on his cock. 

"Sl-Slow down, pet, w-wouldn't want you to hurt yourself!" Dio moaned as you lightly bounced holding your thighs in a vice grip. Throughout the dark and empty room, you could the high moans you released as you slowly but surely impaled yourself further. "D-Dio, I'm tired!" you stuttered out taking time to catch your breath. "Good." was all Dio said before he began fucking up into you pushing the rest of his member inside of you. 

 Tear's welled up in your eyes as you felt as if you were being split into by his brute strength. You fell forward on Dio's chest having no strength left in your body to hold yourself up as his pelvis slammed into you rhythmically. "Feel me. Feel as your body molds itself perfectly for my cock!" Dio grabs your arms and yanks them back forcing you to sit up and bounce on his cock subsequently making him sheath deeper into you. "Christ!" you cried out as you felt his cock reach impossibly deep inside of you. Your walls trembled with each push of your cervix.

 You were dripping limitlessly on Dio's stomach as your fluids combined together in a swirl of emotion. An emotion so great, neither of you could deny what was there. The way that this otherwise complete stranger was enraptured with you as he watched you boil over with ecstasy was an emotion unmeasured by any science the world would ever be able to come up with. "I'm coming!" Dio declared as he slammed your hip down as he reached his peak, spilling his seed deep within you just as he promised. You shiver as you felt a new kind of warmth filling you to the brim. Dio bends towards you, once again taking your lips within his as he circles your clit bringing you to a satisfying orgasm.

[carriagelamp]

I read more books this month than I anticipated. I should probably wait before doing a February book round up, but I already feel like I’m struggling to decide which ones to cut from my list so I’m doing it this weekend instead of next. If I read much next week I’ll bump ‘em up into March’s round up

Asterix and the Missing Scroll / Chieftain’s Daughter

I got the last two “new” Asterix books out of the library so I could officially say I had read them all. Over all my opinion is… they’re fine! None of these would ever become one of my favourites, but they’re all fine stories. The art is good, it is completely in-line with the original, and the stories are… fine. I liked The Missing Scroll quite a bit more than The Chieftain’s Daughter but I never find a ~hurr hurr teenagers~ plotline that interesting, whereas I do enjoy seeing Romans get chased down by unicorns so that’s probably not surprising. There’s some spark I can’t put my finger on that the new Asterix books just seem to be missing though… a bit of humour or cleverness or something. Still, they’re fine reads if you’ve been hungry for more Asterix and I’m glad I read them. (Though the library gave me the American translation of The Chieftain’s Daughter, something I didn’t realize until I started reading and realized that this is wrong??? I’ve been reading these books since I could read and I know this is wrong??? What the hell is happening??? The I realized the publisher was different and I simmered in fury the whole time I read it — WHY ARE YOU CHANGING NAMES AND WORD CHOICES IN A WELL ESTABLISHED SERIES THAT ALREADY HAS AN ENGLISH TRANSLATION YOU ANIMALS WHY ARE YOU DUMBING DOWN THE LANGUAGE AAAUGH

The Bride Was A Boy

This one was cute! The Bride Was A Boy is an autobiographical manga written by a transwoman recounting her experience with transitioning, meeting her boyfriend, and eventually getting married. It’s mostly done in a 4-panel style and is interspersed with lots of information about the LGBT community, particularly in Japan. A lot of it was stuff I was already familiar with, but I still found it adorable and a very worthwhile read. it would be a fantastic book for young queer people who are looking for more of an introduction into international queer space

Cul de Sac: Children At Play

Cul de Sac is just a weird, fun newspaper comic series about the children who live in a small neighbourhood. It fully taps into the children-as-semi-feral-chaos-agents, and there’s something hilariously nostalgic about the whole thing. Lots of times when stories try to portray children there’s always something… wrong about it, something that doesn’t mesh with true childhood, but in this comic I can see glimpses of my grimy, dirty-covered self as a preschooler running around the pages. I would definitely recommend trying them!

The Cremation of Sam McGee

I reread The Cremation of Sam McGee and The Shooting of Dan McGrew and man, they don’t stop being buckwild. These are two really famous Canadian poems that were then illustrated by equally famous Canadian artist Ted Harrison. Harrison’s style is gorgeous and distinct and given what strangely grisly stories these poems are they fit the mood perfectly. Everything feels just a little tilted and wrong and unsettling. If you enjoy an occasional poem (especially ones that are super fun to read out loud) and haven’t read these before, I would recommend them! Or do what my teachers did, and read Sam Gee to a young child in your life and watch them be baffled and concerned and horrified.

There are strange things done / in the midnight sun / by the men who moil for gold...

The Gryphon’s Lair

The second book of the Royal Guide to Monster Slaying series written by Kelley Armstrong; I’ve been eagerly awaiting this book! It’s a very cool fantasy series because it really leans into environmental stewardship and the importance of studying animals and conservation so you can find ways to live alongside a healthy ecosystem. In this book Rowan is officially accepted as the Royal Monster Hunter, which means a whole new set of trials and burdens. She has to contend with a baby gryphon that is becoming increasingly large and dangerous, plotting family members, doubt about her abilities, a potential curse, and a daunting quest deep into the mountains in order to set things right. If you’re looking for some very gentle high fantasy, this series delivers.

Hogan’s Heroes comics

What to say here. Anyone following this blog has suffered the knowledge that I’ve been rewatching Hogan’s Heroes lately. When I found out that there was a short-lived, shitty comic series in the 60s? Of course I had to hunt them down. And so I’ve read them! And they sure were a shitty comic series from the 60s! They were, shall we say, of wildly varying quality. Some were actually really funny (like #5, it easily had the best art and best jokes imho), others were a slog, and most were fine and amusing enough to read the whole way through but not much more.

If you don’t know what Hogan’s Heroes is about: it was a 1960s sitcom that took place in a WWII POW camp, in which the Allied prisoners trapped there had a massive, complex sabotage/spy ring right underneath the camp. The whole show is about constantly outwitting the bumbling Germans while keeping up the pretense that they’re all just normal prisoners. The show is hilariously funny and I would recommend that, even if I can’t say the same for the comics unless you’re like me and are just really thirsty for more content...

Magic Misfits: The Fourth Suit (Ripley)

The final book of Neil Patrick Harris’ middle grade series, The Magic Misfits. In this fourth book, the group is fragmented and forced to meet in secret to avoid notice from the mysterious and powerful Kalagan whose cruel machinations have already turned the quiet little town on its ears, putting people’s lives in peril and destroy Leila’s fathers’ magic shop. The Misfits are going to need all their skills to finally unmask this sinister magician and break the mesmerism he seems to have placed over the entire town before it’s too late to save no only the town, but their friendship and trust.

Super charming series, and the illustrations are gorgeous.

Marsupilami

HOUBA! I watched a very bad TV adaptation of this as a kid that still managed to find a place in my heart, and so I decided to finally try reading some of the original comic! On one hand: it was exactly what I had hoped! The art is cute, the marsupilami is so dynamic and fun to see on the page (and has a way better characterization than he does in the show), and it’s really funny! Unfortunately! It is also pretty racist! Yikes! That seems to be a reoccuring downfall for some of these older Belgian comics... I also tried reading the first book of Les Tuniques Bleues and aye ye ye… I couldn’t actually get through that one. That being said, these were older volumes and frankly, North American media was also real fucking racist at that point so I’m not gonna write them off either. I really liked most of this book, and will probably try to get my hands on one of the more recent volumes of both Marsupilami and Les Tuniques Bleues to see if they get better with time. (If you’ve read either of those series and have volume recommendations hmu)

The Pagemaster

I’m a sucker for novelizations, I have no excuse beyond that. I recently rewatched The Pagemaster and decided to read the chapter book. And it was a solid little adaptation! It’s about Richard Tyler, a young boy with a head for statistics which unfortunately means he lives in constant fear of (in his opinion, statistically likely) injury or death. However that fear is put to the test when he gets caught in a horrible thunderstorm and has to shelter in a nearby library with halls and shelves that stretch beyond the imagination and with untold perils hidden among the pages of the books. Richard, with only his library card and three novels that hope to be checked out, has to venture through the different genres and horrors housed int he library if he ever wants to find the exit and get home to safety.

Pumpkinheads

A very charming little graphic novel. Cute art, and really loveable characters. Josiah and Deja work every year at a local pumpkin patch, and are best friends during those weeks. However this is their last year working there before going off to university and as the last day at the patch comes to a close they realize that they both still have regrets. Deja sets off on a mission to avoid work, eat all the interesting snacks around the patch, and get Josiah to find the girl he’s been crushing on every year and has never worked up the nerve to talk to.

After being deprived of human contact for almost a year, this book really hits you right in the heart.

The Screwfly Solution

A deeply upsetting scifi/horror short story! I read it on the recommendation of a friend and, yes, can confirm that this fucked me up a bit. I honestly don’t even know what to say about this that wouldn’t spoil it, but frankly with everything being as it is, this hit a little bit too close to reality. (That being said, it was very well written, like this is a very good story on a literary level and it does exactly what it sets out to accomplish.) If you feel like reading twenty pages and being really disturbed, give it a go! Otherwise go and read any number of the much happier books on this list!

The Whipping Boy

This was a book I remember reading as a lit circle book back in elementary school and really loving. After telling myself I’d reread it for years, I finally sat down with it again. If you somehow got through school without reading this one, it’s about a brat of a prince and his whipping boy — since it would be unspeakable to strike a prince, when the prince misbehaves it is Jemmy who gets whipped. Unsurprisingly, there is no love lost between the two of them, because the prince is always intentionally causing problems that Jemmy has to suffer for. Things begin to change though when the prince decides to run away and drags Jemmy along with him. On the run, being chased by highwaymen, and desperately trying to hide their identities, these boys go on a fast-paced adventure beyond the castle walls. It wasn’t as special as I remembered it being as a kid, but it’s a fine little chapter book.

[drawlfoy]

The Wonders of Ohio P.6

masterlist (catch up on parts 1-5 here!!)

request guidelines

pairing: draco x reader

request: my original idea :))

summary: y/n’s senior year was going to be great, but her British exchange student is a little weird. this is NOT a non-magic AU. draco’s still a wizard in this fsjifkszfjkd

warnings: language, fainting, bad driving, mentions of drinking and drug use

a/n: eeee this is such a fun bit to write. thank you all so much for being there for me. this is definitely one of my favorite fics i’ve written since it gives me so much creative liberty and the fact that i get feedback and readers for it...just warms my heart. if you’re reading this: thank you so, so much for sticking around. i might come around with more oneshots soon. anyways i hope you enjoy the initial descent into the real real plot. also fluff will be coming soon i promise but i wasn’t lying when i said this was slowburn

tags tags tags @gruffle1 @missmulti @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn @itsivyberry @ayo-cowbelly @nerd-domland @yesnerdsblog @shizarianathania @evanstanfanatic @strawberriesonsummer @hariosborn @night-ving @icintliviinyiniilsiji @erisdogwood @loveissupernatural

word count: 3.4k

song recs:

a pearl -- mitski

movement -- hozier

revival -- deerhunter

Draco was crying.

Or, at least, someone was. The gasps coming from just a wall away were apparent, but Y/N could hear a voice that didn’t quite sound like Draco--which had to be a trick of the mind, because there could be no one in there but him.

She rapped on the door against her better judgement to be met with a flurry of movement--fabric rustling,  and a soft pop that echoed through the air.

“Draco? Are you alright in there?”

Y/N found herself wishing that he wouldn’t open the door. After the Homecoming ask, the last thing she wanted was to see his stupid pretty face again, but she was a good host sister. Emphasis on sister.

To her shock, the door swung open. Just a few inches, just enough for her to see the pile of black shredded paper in the middle of his room and a drained looking Draco glaring back at her.

“Can I help you?” His once pristine white shirt was gray in some places, like he had rubbed ashes on it. 

“I just thought--did you burn something?”

“No. What is it?”

She looked at him a bit closer. His eyes didn’t look red rimmed with the dead giveaway of a crying session, but they looked close. The furrow in his brow was from worry instead of his usual sternness and he kept nervously pulling down at his left sleeve. 

Draco wasn’t crying, but he was about to.

“I…” There was something deeply unsettling about seeing Draco so uncollected and fidgety--almost like seeing a fish out of water or an American conservative with an adequate understanding of class struggles.The air was charged with something yet again, so much so that Y/N could feel the hair on her arms stand up. She decided to avoid damaging his masculinity any further. “Nothing. It just smelled a little like smoke. I wanted to make sure you weren’t burning a candle or anything. You know how my mom is about that.”

He continued to stare at her.

“Would you like me to leave you alone?”

“Please.” 

Well, that was embarrassing thought Y/N as she made her way back down the hall and to her backpack. I get rejected twice in one day. Smooth.

The days following were profoundly more uncomfortable. Breakfasts became uncomfortably akin to the Silent Game and Draco stopped coming out for tea in the evenings. The drives to and from school were decorated only by occasional bits of small talks or grumbles of exams. In short, Y/N knew that she had overstepped a boundary and Draco was pulling back.

School had finally become crazy. Y/N’s life became so entrenched with letters of recommendation and 200 word supplements that the Draco shaped hole in her life was bearable. After all, she was fine before he came, and she was fine now. She’d been silly, allowing herself to fantasize about a kid with some serious trauma and family issues that clearly had personal things that handle before he thought about getting all cozy with someone who was not in the slightest compatible with him. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

oOo

If someone turned a glass of whole milk into a human, that person would be Chad. He was the poster child of an “American” boy--tall, warm blonde hair, slightly tanned skin, and cornflower blue eyes. 

But his personality? Not so much. 

“My beloved husband!” Y/N called out as she saw him speaking to her mother in the foyer while Draco glowered in the corner. She bounded down the stairs in record time, leaping into his arms as her strappy heels swung from her hands. He smelled of cotton and laundry detergent. 

“Hey nerd,” he said, swinging her around in a circle before setting her down. “Did you finish the Econ homework? I was hoping I could take a picture before I leave…”

Y/N drew back to smack him on the shoulder. “You disgust me.”

“You abuse me.”

“And I’ll do it again,” said Y/N. She had forgotten how funny he was. 

“Oh, you two,” Mrs. Y/L/N cut in, stepping between the two and pressing the boutonnière into Y/N’s hands. “Always bickering like a married couple.”

Lizzy snorted from the top of the stairs where she was struggling to stuff a light jacket into her purse. “Hot take.”

“Hold still,” commanded Y/N, holding the pin and attempting to attach it to his lapel. “I’m literally going to accidentally stab you. Cut it out.”

He made a face down at her. “Do it. You won’t.”

“Oh? I won’t?”

“Y/N,” Mrs. Y/L/N’s exasperated voice warned.

“I’ll refrain, but only because the rug we’re standing on was my Grandmother’s,” Y/N said to him, her voice dripping with sweetness. “Consider yourself lucky that you’re not on the tile.”

“I’ve never been more thankful that my late grandmother-in-law had such impeccable taste.” 

“Suck up.”

“Oh, because you’re such a rebel.”

“It’s called motivation!”

“Honey, I want a divor-”

“For Christ’s sake, stop flirting or I’m going to puke,” a cool voice cut in. The group turned to see Sylvia standing in the doorway, clad in a flowing black dress that just barely ghosted over the top of the floor. 

“You look radiant, darling,” Mrs. Y/L/N said.

“And we weren’t flirting,” said Y/N.

Sylvia sent her a little wink before walking to sit down on the couch across from Draco, who was currently perched cross legged and looking profoundly uncomfortable. 

Sylvia, Lizzy, and their dates all opted to take Lizzy’s car to the city while Chad, Y/N, and Draco took Chad’s. The plan was to drop Draco off at the school with ample time to prepare him for the uniquely traumatic experience that was ASB sanctioned after school events, and to the plan they stuck.

“Yeah, go ahead and treat me like your chauffeur, “ scoffed Chad as Y/N slid into the backseat next to Draco. The sports car was surprisingly narrow with hardly any space between them. If she wanted to, she could easily rest her thigh against his.

“It’s called being polite, dear,” said Y/N, flicking the back of his head before turning to face Draco. “You’re really gonna commit to this? Major props, but, like...you really don’t have to go to this if you don’t want to. You can even stay home. I know how to sneak you back in.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “I’m here for the American experience, right?”

“Hate to break it to you, but there is no uniform American experience. It’s all personalized, and I don’t know if you want yours to be seasoned with 14 year olds T-posing in a circle to...I don’t even know. Chad, what kind of music do they play at those places?”

“Fuck if I know. I don’t go to them either.”

“It’s fine. I told Heather I’d be there.”

“Ooookay, whatever you say,” Y/N said. 

They rode in silence for a few more beats. The wind outside was uncharacteristically strong for an early October day, and it looked like a storm was brewing. In their rush to get to the dance on time, they had neglected to take precaution against the wind and ran outside to Chad’s car without a second thought. Draco’s suit, while posh and put together, had clearly bore the brunt of this choice. His tie had become slightly rumpled and his hair mussed, a look that was all types of wrong on him.

“Draco?” she asked. He snapped to attention. “Your tie is all undone. Can I…?” Y/N motioned to his neck.

Wide-eyed and frozen, he met her with, “er...sure.” 

Y/N leaned forward, trying to think past how her thighs were just barely touching his. Her corsage (a tasteful red, thank you very much) bumped against his chest, flattening a bit. She wasn’t very familiar with ties--she’d never had to be in her past experiences--but whatever his was made of, it was expensive. The fabric felt silky and impossibly smooth in her hand as she carefully untied it.

Chad took a sharp turn into the school drop off lot, prompting Y/N to nearly topple into Draco’s chest. His arms shot out to steady her and retracted so quickly that she was left wondering if she imagined the whole ordeal. 

“So it’s true,” said Chad from the front. “Nerds do have bad upper body strength.”

“Shut up,” she responded. Her cheeks felt unbearably hot as she tried her best to focus on tightening Draco’s tie and ignore the fact that she was close enough to smell his cologne--a soft pine, she observed--and feel the shadow of his breath on her face. His hands were clasped together lap, tight enough to turn the knuckles white. 

It was an odd feeling, getting butterflies in her stomach while she was touching a boy that wasn’t her date as Chad careened towards a parking spot and pulled in so violently that Y/N almost went sprawling into Draco again. She looked up at him, getting ready to crack a joke about the absurdity of the situation or the questionable driving; instead, she found herself staring up into his eyes. 

His normally pale eyes looked darker than usual--his pupils were insanely dilated--but that was because it was dark in the car. Obviously. Out of the corner of her eye, Y/N could see his chest rising and falling with an urgency that she hadn’t noticed before.

“Do you want me to uh..fix your...your hair, too?” Y/N said, mentally cringing at how she stumbled over the sentence. To be fair, his hair was ruffled and out of place. It wasn’t like she was making an excuse to touch it or anything.

To that, Draco jerked away from her, his back brushing up against the opposite car door. “No. No, it’s ok. I’ll fix it myself.”

Y/N was sure that her face was tomato red.

“Alright buckaroo,” Chad said from the front, his nonchalant demeanor never more appreciated. “Your hot date is here. Get out of my car. We have a busy day of antiquing ahead.”

Any semblance of casualness left Draco’s body as his eyes widened. “Antiquing?”

“Yeah, remember the place I took you to right after you came here?” asked Y/N.

“Er...don’t you have anything better to do?”

“Excuse me?” She sat up straight so quickly that she felt her hair come slightly undone at the nape of her neck. “That’s rich, coming from the kid going to a school dance as a senior.” 

“It’s probably not going to even be open. It’ll be late by the time dinner’s over,” he said. 

“Since when do you care? Honestly, quit acting weird,” Y/N responded, scootching away from him as he made no effort to get out of the car. 

“I’m not--it’s--erm, nevermind, forget about it.” He cleared his throat, straightened his tie, and brushed off his lapels. “Heather must be waiting for me. Goodbye.”

After a little struggle, Draco managed to best the slightly confusing door handle of Chad’s car and was out the door. Y/N slid across the seat and out with him, shutting the door and grabbing the handle for the passenger side. 

“Y/N?” Draco’s voice called before she had the chance to fully get in and tell Chad to book it. 

“What’s up?”

He took a few steps forward, pausing just a couple feet away from her. His eyes were cast to the rain puddle ridden cement. “Promise me you won’t do anything stupid, okay?”

“I should be telling you that, king,” Y/N quipped. “Your first real American dance. If you go to any after parties, make sure to watch your drink. Don’t take any substances from strangers--or, anyone, really--”

“Y/N, he’s not a chick.” Chad, his hands still perched on the steering wheel, turned to peer out at her. “He’ll be fine. I think they have beer in Britain.”

“Well, whatever. Have Heather text me if I need to pick you up anywhere. And don’t get in any cars with someone who’s been drinking!”

“Y/N!”

“Ok, ok, I’m coming.” She slid into the car, turning one last time to say bye. Draco was already gone. “Only if I drive.”

oOo

“So Heather and Draco, huh?” 

Y/N scowled at Lizzy as she speared a piece of her salad particularly viciously. “I don’t know if it’s like that. I think he’s just being polite, or whatever. I think British people are just like that.”

“Why are we even talking about that boy?” Chad asked. “He’s got that whole Timothée Chalamet dying Victorian toddler aesthetic if Timothée was blonde and had a perpetual stick up his ass.”

“In a hot way, though,” said Lizzy, her eyebrows wiggling. Jonathan scowled at her side. “Oh, don’t be so jealous. As if I’d ever go for a kid who doesn’t even know what Snapchat is.”

“I don’t understand what Heather sees in him,” Chad continued, his fettuccine plate long forgotten. “He’s got the personality of a wet rag, and she’s so bubbly and...I don’t even know. Do you guys get what I mean?”

“Draco’s got personality,” said Y/N. 

“Not like Heather.”

“It’s not his fault he’s reserved. He’s actually really funny.”

“And that’s what I like to call rose-tinted glasses,” Chad said, gently poking her cheek. 

“Hey! I’m the one who lives with him.”

“Whatever. Let’s just call for the bill. I’m not hungry anymore.” Chad folded up his napkin, placing it on top of the tablecloth and ignoring Y/N’s protest as he got out his wallet and placed a credit card on the table. “It’s on me, guys. You know how my parents are. They’re just happy that we’re all getting together again instead of holing up in our rooms.”

“Thank god junior year is over,” Sylvia added. “That’s really kind of you. At least let me get the tip?”

As the group bickered over the payment options and flagged down the waiter, Y/N noticed her phone lighting up with a notification.

Heather, 6.48pm: Hey girly! Sorry to bug you on your night but Draco wanted to check in and ask where you guys are/what you’re planning on doing tonight.

“Who’s that?” Chad asked, looking down at the little paragraph in the gray message bubble.

“Just Heather. Draco wants to know what we’re doing. Probably because he’s realizing how sucky dances really are and is about to beg us to come pick him up.”

He snorted. “Yeah. Poor kid.”

Y/N typed out a quick “we just finished dinner and are heading to the antique place now. lmk if i need to pick him up earlier” and tucked her phone away in her purse. As much as she resented it, she couldn’t help but wish that Draco wanted to join them instead.

“Are you guys ready to beat it and hit up that antique place?” Marvin, Sylvia’s date, asked. She rolled her eyes and sent him a lazy smile.

“You sound like a dad.” 

“Off like a herd of turtles, baby,” Y/N offered, gathering her things as they made their way out the restaurant door. “Not gonna lie, this place doesn’t show up on Google Maps or anything. I think I know how to get there but none of you guys are allowed to make fun of me if I take too many wrong turns.”

“No promises,” said Chad, winking down at her and giving her shoulder a little squeeze. 

 As they walked, it became profoundly obvious that Chad and Y/N were the only two who weren’t officially an item. Lizzy and Jonathon were walking hand in hand while Sylvia and Marvin whispered in each others’ ears when they had to wait for crosswalk signals. While she had great chemistry with Chad, nothing ever felt real with him. It always felt like an act.

Perhaps the tension between them was because of that one time they kissed and never talked about it again in freshman year after a particularly nerve wracking competitive math round before she quit--something that she wasn’t exactly going to shout off the rooftops for the masses to hear. Or maybe because he pushed her away right after and said it was a mistake. 

Whatever it was, Y/N and Chad were decidedly not romantically involved. She had been shocked when he’d even bothered asking her for the night. Granted, they were always pals and it shouldn’t have been awkward, but drawing the comparisons between her and the other girls was making the evening very uncomfy. Y/N couldn’t help but pray that Chad was going to be the one to break the ice.

“Where the fuck is this place?” he finally said, much to Y/N’s glee. His grace and manners were absolutely unparalleled. “It’s cold and I’m sure it’s going to start raining again.”

“It should be just a few more blocks and then to the right,” she responded. “Sorry. It’s cool as fuck, though. I promise it’s worth it.”

“This is just her ploy to lure us all away from civilization to off us,” Sylvia said, turning around from a few feet in front of them to raise her eyebrows at Y/N. “Eliminate the competition before college apps even begin. I’m impressed, honestly.”

“Now you’ve gone and ruined it all,” she fired back. “Thanks, Vy.”

She was relieved to see that the antique store couldn’t be missed, even if she tried. The sign, a worn and friendly gold, was illuminated by large lights. The words “My Grandfather’s Attic” had never looked more welcoming as Sylvia gripped the door and ushered them inside.

The moment Y/N stepped inside, something felt...different, kind of like the hair-raising feeling she got when she was around Draco. The electricity in the air she felt with him could easily be explained away by the fact that he was, for lack of a better term, the most stunning person she’d ever seen, but perhaps she was slowly getting over him. Perhaps…

She turned to see Chad, his honey blonde hair spilling over his forehead as he focused on a basket of vintage buttons that seemed to glimmer in the light. The furrow in his brow--the same one that she’d been so familiar with after seeing him solve countless math problems--appeared as he examined the basket, turning a red button around in his fingers, soft and and sprinkled with writing calluses. 

Maybe it had been Chad all along. Maybe Draco was just a detour. 

Before she did anything she regretted, Y/N turned and made her way back into the store. The set up was the same as she remembered--interesting and foreign objects hanging from the walls, ceilings, and congregating in baskets and overflowing shelves. She didn’t even realize that she had migrated over to the opposite side of the room until she felt the solid, cool wood of the black box from her dreams pressed into her hand as she turned it over and traced the strange white sign that was etched into the front. 

“Y/N!” 

The sound snapped her out of her trance to see...Heather and Draco? He was jogging towards her despite the fact that he was wearing a full suit. Y/N made an absent note to make fun of him later. 

“Why are you--”

“Put that down!” He stopped a few paces away, his eyes darting around the store at a frantic pace. “We need to leave.”

“Why? Honestly, if you wanted me to pick you up, all you had to do was…” She had to take a breath to steady herself. Her body felt like it was filled with static. “All you had to do was ask.”

“That’s not...ok, just put it down,” he commanded. “Please. Just put the box down. We need to go home.”

“No! This is my last homecoming. I’m sorry your experience wasn’t great, but I don’t...I don’t, uh, appreciate…” The lightheadedness hit, so suddenly that she almost fell. 

“Fuck, are you okay?” Draco was right in front of her in an instant, his eyes scanning her face.

“I feel...” She took a shaky breath. “I feel...starry?”

The last thing she remembered was Draco trying to tug the box out of her grip, his other hand warm on her shoulder.

And then everything went black.

final a/n: so draco got a howler and some wack stuff happened, huh? tell me what you think. 

[plumoh]

[NatsuYuu] along the seams of shadows

Rating: G

Word count: 2079

Summary: Natsume Reiko is a pitiful and lonely human.

Note: AO3 link. A look at Reiko through Madara’s eyes.

Madara’s ears twitch when the tree branch starts creaking and the leaves fall down in a whirlwind of irritating pests. He’s two seconds away from threatening whoever is disturbing his nap when laughter reaches him—a plain, boisterous laughter that leans towards mockery instead of pure joy.

“You really are just a cat, Madara!” the voice says, as close to his face as ever. “Napping on a nice patch of grass, under the sunlight?”

Madara cracks one eye open. The sun is still high in the sky and the breeze that ruffles his fur is a pleasant addition, accompanying his solitary nap far away from noisy and ridiculous small fry. But he can never escape the unpredictability of an annoying, weak human.

“If you say another word you will become my afternoon snack,” Madara warns.

The laughter becomes louder, and in the sunlight that makes shadows bigger, pale hair shines brightly while unnatural eyes glimmer with an even more vivid color.

“I’d like to see you try, you big lump of fluff.”

Natsume Reiko smells like mischief, power and loneliness.

***

This forest isn’t big enough to swallow all the rumors that float around. There is no god protecting it and spreading rules to abide by, which means that everyone is free to do as they like, much to Madara’s displeasure. He’s a magnificent beast with strength that rivals that of a god, capable of destroying entire areas of nature and banishing youkais, but people here treat him like he’s the latest entertainment, to be jeered at by everyone and nobody.

He is not a simple creature that lazes around, and he definitely is not a human child’s pet.

“You should have eaten her long ago if you’re so irritated by these rumors,” Hinoe tells him, looking far too too smug for someone who is, without a doubt, clinging the most to that girl.

“It requires too much effort,” Madara growls, flicking his tail impatiently. “Reiko probably doesn’t taste good anyway. I don’t like my prey jumping and running around, it’s exhausting to look at.”

“You are the most boring beast I know.”

Madara rolls his eyes, turning his head away. “That’s a bold accusation when Misuzu is right here.”

“Misuzu is funny, at least. You, on the other hand, are boring.”

Hinoe draws from her pipe and exhales noisily, chuckling when some of the smoke gets into Madara’s eyes. Madara groans and rises on his paws, lifting a cloud of dust and dirt along with him, and a few little plant youkais scamper off deeper into the forest with squeaks. Madara watches them flee for their lives, feeling vindicated.

“I am a respected and intimidating beast, that’s what I am,” he huffs.

“Yeah, a beast that still refuses to play a game with me because he’s scared.”

Hinoe bursts out laughing while Madara tries his hardest not to simply snap and leave. Reiko jumps down from a tree (why is she always climbing trees?) and lands onto Madara’s back, her lips curled into a grin that could have been fueled by the sun’s spite, bold but burning.

Sometimes, Madara finds himself unable to make sense out of this girl appearing and disappearing from his life like a tornado.

“I told you I don’t have time to waste on your ridiculous games,” Madara says.

Reiko tilts her head, never ceasing to be the arrogant and confident person she poses as whenever she makes her words sharp and cutting.

“Hinoe is right, you are boring,” she snickers.

Madara’s tail hits the ground in annoyance, and he shows the barest hint of his teeth.

“Don’t you have human things to do, instead of bothering me during my peaceful rest?”

Reiko shrugs, sliding off Madara. She smooths over her skirt and passes a hand through her hair, as if they’ve never seen her in a dishevelled state or covered in mud after an encounter with rambunctious youkais. She stays silent, her smile frozen, but her eyes are blazing with a quiet, raging fire that sends chills down Madara’s spine. She’s only a young girl, inexperienced and foolish, running around and upsetting the natural order of things in this forest—but behind all this brashness, Madara senses something deeply unsettling.

“Human things aren’t as interesting as coming here and hearing you grouch like an old man,” Reiko answers. “Hinoe, you said you wanted to show me a new curse.”

Madara ignores the way Hinoe coos at Reiko like she is the most precious creature she’s ever seen, and observes. Reiko is someone they shouldn’t mess with, that is for certain; Madara doesn’t quite know yet why he cannot shake off the feeling she’s wrapping them around her finger.

***

Madara being Reiko’s pet becomes more of a joke than a real fact believed by everyone, and ultimately it doesn’t change anything in the way Madara’s strength is perceived. The others make fun of him for letting her live in spite of the influence she has on his image as the greatest beast of the forest, but for the time being he’s one of the very few who didn’t get his name down in the stupid book, so there.

There has been some turmoil and unrest in the neighborhood, lately. A vicious youkai destroying everything standing in its way, threatening small fry for information and leaving behind trails of blood that scare the weakest of them. Madara doesn’t feel particularly concerned about this kind of rampage, which happens a lot more often than people would believe. It’s best to let it pass and not get involved in this youkai’s affairs.

That is what he would have done, were he alone. In times like these, Madara remembers why he chose to live in solitude and not surrounded by other beings who have the survival instincts of insignificant bugs.

“The destroyed trees fall down and block some roads in the forest,” Reiko grumbles, tapping her foot. “People can’t circulate anymore, and cleaning that mess up will take many weeks.”

Madara sighs, glancing at the area of destruction. The claw marks on the trunks indicate that whoever they’re going to go up against might rival Madara in size, while the pace at which the forest is being attacked tells them it’s also nimble on its feet. Not an ideal situation, then.

“Why do you care about that?” Madara asks, turning back his head to look at her. “You don’t like the people of this town, and they don’t wander in the forest as frequently as you do.”

Sometimes, imperceptibly, Madara catches a flicker of pain in Reiko’s eyes at the mere mention of her own desires. It’s not a physical pain, nor is it a pain associated with the events she’s currently dealing with—it comes from within, deep from her soul and emerging in her gaze for one second. She hides it well. She carries this pain everywhere she goes, but she hides it well.

Madara never comments on it. He watches her school the features of her face back into ones she’s crafted over the years, all mischieviousness and no nonsense. Reiko grins and acts like the royal princess she has become in this tiny pocket of otherworldly space she is the only one to trespass into.

“I don’t like seeing people do whatever they want, like they’re owning this place,” she declares, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “The smaller youkais have been pestering me to do something about it. And it’s destroying my napping spots, too. I’m sure you wouldn’t want to have your favorite tree cut down either.”

She’s an odd girl and a mystery Madara doesn’t pretend to understand. She’s confidence and contradiction and selfishness all at once, making it impossible to untangle the knots of her emotions—she uses words and rash actions to cover it up, like a nice tapestry concealing the damage done by a kid’s tantrum.

There is kindness in her selfishness, Madara thinks. Reiko obeys no one’s rules, and she makes up her own for her silly games, but her heart isn’t as corrupted as it may seem. And for this lost human shunned by everyone, doing small services unseen by her peers, Madara only feels pity.

He huffs, and takes off to find the troublesome youkai, whose name will end up tied to a piece of paper.

***

“That book of yours is useless if you’re not using its intended purpose.”

“Its intended purpose is to show off and to instill fear in my enemies.”

“You don’t have natural enemies, foolish girl, you’re creating them yourself.”

Reiko tips her head backwards and laughs, a sound carrying over the wind and echoing against the stone walls. She looks at Madara like he’s the one who has said idiotic things.

“It’s preemptive,” she says. “I’ve never felt that powerful before inventing the book.”

“The words that come out of your mouth are incomprehensible to me,” Madara grunts. “Humans are so unnecessarily complicated and confusing.”

“Don’t talk like you know how humans behave. You’ve barely had any contact with them.”

“And this is exactly why I find them annoying.”

Reiko smiles. She has her legs plunged into the cold but clear water of the lake, on this summer day that feels both too hot and too humid. Madara himself is lying down, head pillowed on his front legs and enjoying the slow pace of his day. He warned Reiko that playful and impish youkais would steal her shoes, that she had carelessly thrown in the grass, but she shrugged and didn’t find it particularly upsetting.

How strange, and how perplexing, to encounter someone who doesn’t adhere to any of the world concepts Madara knows. Reiko doesn’t belong to the realm of ordinary humans, and she has no knowledge of the exorcist community; she is an entity dancing on the blurred hinge of these worlds.

“I don’t need to use the power of their names, since I’ll never see them again,” Reiko finally says. “It’s only awkward if I happen to meet one of them and can’t remember who they are.”

“So you admit this book is useless to you,” Madara snorts. “Give it to me, then.”

Reiko scoops up water between her hands, and flicks it at Madara’s eyes. Madara wrinkles his nose and staggers back, glaring at Reiko’s self-satisfied expression.

“You’re a nuisance,” he tells her.

“And you’re not fun,” Reiko replies. “It’s my Book of Friends, so you don’t get to steal it from me. Attaching a name to a face makes it easier to call them friends.”

A pitiful human, truly.

“...They’re not your friends,” Madara says.

Reiko’s shrug feels measured. She gets out of the water, doesn’t bother drying her feet before retrieving her shoes (that are still where she left them) and putting them on. Madara’s eyes follow her movements, choosing to remain where he is.

“Maybe not,” Reiko concedes, her back turned on Madara. “I wouldn’t want to, anyway. But they gave me their names. Names are important, right?”

Natsume Reiko barges into their life without prompting and wrecks havoc on everything they know. She rips away their routine and replaces it with unpredictable events, summoned by her presence alone in these lands. She moves like nothing ties her down anywhere, but she’s restless. The tightness around her shoulders makes her small and fragile, when her entire attitude seems to prove she is none of that.

Madara doesn’t understand her. Her words and her actions are hard to parse, and he’s not sure she understands herself sometimes. She is simply grander than life itself.

“I hope you’ll play a game with me one day, Madara.” Reiko doesn’t fully face him but a small smile pulls up her lips. “You can’t run away from me forever!”

“Hmpf. I’m not interested in these childish games.”

“You’ll change your mind eventually!”

Reiko waves her hand and disappears in the forest, probably heading back to the home of her caretakers. Madara actually doesn’t know if she does live with them—she could have taken up residence in one of the old shrines with how often she visits them, for all he knows.

Madara curls up and closes his eyes. The Book of Friends, she’s called it. Such an innocent name for what is probably the most dangerous weapon against youkais—and it is simply used by a sentimental girl as a personal reassurance she is not alone.

Natsume Reiko already has friends. She just chooses not to see it.

[britishboystm]

It’s Always Been You (Tom Blake Smut)

warnings: angst, smut, death

word count: 4,723

a/n: I can’t believe this is the first time I’ve written for Tom

•••

Tom had always been a good friend. His family did cherries and yours did apples.

Before the two of you were born, your fathers went into business together and shared a booth at the Saturday market in your town. Both your mothers were thick as thieves and had gotten pregnant around the same time, and you were born a month after Tom. It was safe to say you were never going to leave each other’s sides.

You did everything together, well until your father became worried that you were becoming too much like a boy by spending so much time with Tom. You’d fondly remember the times the two of you would go down to the river and stand in the water up to your knees trying to see who could catch the most tadpoles. The two of you would usually come back to yours or his farm around dinner time covered in mud and dirt up your waist. Your mother always complained that she couldn’t see your pretty face due to the muck that was often smeared on it. Because of all this you ended up being sent to a private girls school a few miles south, where you weren’t allowed to see Tom unless it was Christmas.

You secretly wrote to one another though during your time at boarding school and when his father passed away from pneumonia you were his only real support system other than his brother. His mother went into a bad depression after his father's death so he was left to grieve his father's passing alone.

Once your learning was finished, you did not hesitate to come home and help on Tom’s farm again. Tom’s mother would pay you to pick cherries since your father had sold his orchard.

But things had changed when you came home. Tom was no longer the little chubby boy who you could mess around with and make mud pies and pretend to eat with. His hair had darkened and his shoulders had broadened. Not to mention he now towered you. He was a man. And a handsome man at that. You never noticed that about him before.

The glances you shared now didn’t hold the same innocence it once did. There was something different in his chilly blue irises. His gaze would last a little too long when you would bend over to pick up the barrels of cherries and whenever the two of you rinsed them by the big well, he always found a way to sneak a small graze of your hand so you wouldn’t forget he was there beside you.

But those flirtatious moments didn’t last forever when war was declared in Britain. Almost immediately, Joe was sent off to fight for king and country. Tom didn’t need to but because Tom had to always be the same as Joe or one up him, he had kept saying he was going to enlist as well. You didn’t take it seriously until one day Tom came running down the driveway to meet you and his mom, who were depitting the last batch of the season.

“I did it, I did it!” You frowned in confusion at his obvious excitement as he hopped around with a letter in hand. His mother grabbed the letter from him quite quickly and nearly fainted after reading the first two lines. The two of you quickly grabbed her and called it a night, bringing her into the house.

His mother was in shambles and was now seated on the couch while she sobbed into her hands. She didn’t even have the desire to cook dinner. That’s when you knew things were bad.

“What did you do?” You say to Tom as he sorrowfully watched his mom cry.

“I enlisted, I’m leaving next week to fight in France.” It was now your turn to almost faint as you grab the kitchen table beside you.

“Have you gone mad?” You breathe out as you take a seat to steady yourself.

“No I haven’t. If Joe can do it so can I!” His voice raised in anger as he crossed his arms over his chest, obviously upset at the double standards that were set for him and his older brother.

“That is not what this is about Tom. Joe is gone, there is nothing we can do about that. But you? It was so easily avoidable but you’ve gone and ruined everything. How selfish can you be? Who will your mother have if both you and Joe don’t return home? Who will I have?” You begin to choke up near the end and let a single tear slip down your cheek.

Tom sighs and storms out of the kitchen, probably heading upstairs to freshen up while you prepare the dinner since Mrs. Blake clearly wasn’t well enough to.

You focused on making dinner as Mrs. Blake and Tom sat in the living room, not speaking to one another. What was there to say? Tom knew yours and his mother’s thoughts on it all and he was too stubborn to be convinced to not leave.

Once dinner was ready everyone sat at the table and ate quietly. Again no words were spoken and the tension was so thick amongst the three of you. None of you were able to finish due to the unsettling feeling you all shared so you finally gave up and collected the half eaten dishes and placed them into the sink.

“I’m going to bed. Goodnight.” Mrs Blake said as she slowly got up and weakly walked up the stairs to her room. She looked so frail and worn out that it made you even more mad at Tom for the pain he was already causing.

You stood at the sink and faced away from Tom as he stayed put at the table. The only sounds that filled the room was the clashing of dirty plates and running water.

This was all such a mess.

———-

Later that night you found yourself sitting on the haystack in the Blake barn with the doors wide open as you stared out at the navy night sky. Stars adorned the sky. They continued to shimmer, unaware of the fact that your world was falling apart at the seams. Funny how time and space works, you thought. So many other thoughts rattled around your brain, all of them making you want to cry.

You were so deeply focused on your little world that you didn’t initially hear Tom walk in.

“Couldn’t sleep either huh?” He said before walking up and taking a seat beside you on the hay.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” You don’t respond but rather stare out into nothing with an emotionless expression.

“The least you can do is talk to me.” He says, nudging you lightly to lighten the mood.

“I wanted to marry you.” You blurt out of nowhere in a montone way. There was a good chance he was never coming home so at this point you felt as though you had nothing to lose.

He bowed his head in shame and twiddled his thumbs, clearly trying to absorb this big bombshell.

“Really?” He says finally looking at you and trying to hide his excitement.

“Yeah but at this point it’s foolish to think like that, considering I may never see you again.” You finally look at him with hurt in your eyes which he matches almost immediately.

“Y/N I-“ He tries to say something but you are quick to cut him off.

“Why is this so important to you?” He sighs and runs a hand through his hair before getting more comfortable in his spot.

“I don’t know. I feel as though I have lived my entire life being the lesser of the two brothers. Joe has always been the golden child that I wanted to prove myself. That I can be courageous and brave just like him.” You bite your lip from saying anything that may hurt him. It made sense why he would do this but you still hated the idea.

“Aren’t you afraid?”

“Of course I am. I’m scared shitless. But I’ve been scared shitless my entire life.” You sigh and the two of you sit in silence for a while, nothing but the sound of crickets and the warm night breeze floating by.

“Promise you won’t laugh?” He says out of the blue, rubbing his neck in embarrassment. You nod in return, silently telling him there is no reason to feel judged by you.

“There is one more thing I’m scared of.”

“And what’s that?”

“I shouldn’t say. It’s so bloody embarrassing.”

“What? No! You have to tell me now! That isn’t fair!”

“Okay fine.” He sighs.

“Spit it out then.” You say with an urgency to your voice.

“I’m scared of dying a virgin.” Your eyes go wide and you look over to him to see if he is joking or not. When you see him looking down at his lap shamefully, a blush creeps upon your face. You had never really discussed those things before. Especially with him.

Girls talked about it when you were in private school but you didn’t usually have anything to contribute.

“Oh.” Is all that you are able to get out.

“I’m sorry, I should have just kept that to myself. Forget I said anything.” He begins to ramble, clearly trying to backtrack on his last comment.

“There is no reason to feel ashamed of those type of things Thomas. Those are normal worries people have.”

“You think so?” He says hopefully.

“Of course. I also get scared by the idea of never being able to feel that way with someone. It’s natural.” It was now his turn to blush. Oh to be the one to make you feel that way, he thought.

“Tom?” You finally say, bracing yourself for his response.

“Yes?” He says back.

“You know. If we both share this fear, we could always… get rid of it together.” He is speechless and his jaw drops as he stares at your nervous expression.

“Do you really want to?” He finally gets out.

“Well, we know each other and we are good friends. I also feel very comfortable with you which is important.”

“Right but we aren’t married.”

“At this point Tom I don’t really care about that. I need to vent all of these emotions somehow.”

“Oh.”

“What?”

“So that’s what this is about. You want to fuck out your feelings because I’m leaving?” He seemed a little hurt by this. Like this was simply an impulse or an itch that was aching to be scratched. That was part of it but it was mostly the fact that you’ve wanted him to be your first the minute you returned home and saw just how much of man he had become. You loved him and he was now giving you a free pass to finally fulfill your desires.

“No, Tom that is not it. I want to lose my virginity and to be quite honest, I couldn’t think of anyone else I would want to lose it to.”

“Really?” A cocky smirk came upon his lips as he leaned in and nudged you slightly. You rolled your eyes in response and scoffed.

“Okay you don’t need to get all cocky about it.” He laughed before trying to start something by catching your gaze in his.

And with no warning Tom pounced on you and began kissing your neck roughly which caught you off guard.

“Tom get off! What are you doing?” You squeal as you push him away.

“What? I thought you said you wanted to lose your virginity to me. I leave next week remember?” Your glare is piercing as you stood up.

“I didn’t mean here at this very moment! God can you at least give me a warning before you try and pull something like that?” He falls back a bit onto the hay bale with an exasperated sigh, running his hands through his hair in frustration.

“Sorry.” He says realizing his wrong doing. You weren’t just an inanimate object that could just be used whenever. Contrary to what your father always believed, you were a person of integrity and if you needed time, then by god you were doing to get the respect you deserved.

“I think I will go to bed now.” Your words are soft as you turn around and hesitantly head out into the vast land of the Blake farm. You couldn’t help but look back to see Tom sitting there, embarrassed. Millions of thoughts swam around but one kept finding itself coming back again and again. That specific feeling that came whenever Tom did chores around the barn that made his muscles flex was coming back and even though you had just rejected him, the feeling was growing more and more.

“Fuck it.” You say under your breath before you quickly turn around and plop down onto his waist in a straddle, causing him to let out a groan at the sudden impact.

He looks at you in confusion, and right before he could say another word you quickly attach your lips to his. The kiss was aggressive and feverish as your hands threaded through his hair, gripping it tightly to get him to part his lips. As a result he let out a small gasp at your fingers tugging at his roots and your tongue swirling around his mouth. This was your first ever kiss and soon to be first ever time so you weren’t going to hold back. Not if it was with Tom.

Everything felt so right in that moment. Just two nineteen year olds using the last bit of time together before probable tragedy. You had a gut feeling that Tom was never going to walk up that long gravel driveway ever again. You shooed those horrid thoughts away.

“Tom.” You sigh against his plush lips. He pulls away and intently looks into your eyes, worry evident on his face.

“Did I do something wrong?” He asked. You couldn’t help but giggle at his puppy like demeanour.

“Of course not. You are being so kind Tom.”

Your gaze then suddenly becomes transfixed with his white button shirt. Then without a second thought your hands grazed up and down his covered chest before you began to unbutton the first three, exposing his sternum. You look up to see him intensely watching your actions, his breathing beginning to increase.

“Are you sure Y/N?” He says while his hands run up and down the sides of your basic grey dress.

“Only if you are.” You whisper back. Taking this as affirmation he flips you around and lays you gently on the cushiony yet scratchy hay that held the both of you off of the dirty ground of the barn.

“You know I have always, thought, you were, so beautiful.” He says in between kisses along your face. You smile softly at his words and sigh, allowing yourself to fall deeper into the hay.

“Thomas Blake you always knew how to make a girl blush.” He chuckles at this and stops kissing you, holding himself up above your body.

“You remember the time your parents invited the Darby’s to Christmas Dinner. How it was your first year back from St. Clares and because they were the richest family in town, your parents tried to set you up with their son Richard?” You roll your eyes.

“Tom what does this have to do with us having sex right now?” You were growing slightly impatient.

“Wait, let me finish love.” You sigh and shift slightly to grow more comfortable. This may take some time, you thought.

“I remember I was so mad because your parents wouldn’t let me play with you. They basically threw you to Richard and I had to watch them try to play matchmaker. At the time I believed that I was angry because I wasn’t allowed to play with my best friend since you had been away for so long. But years later I looked back at that moment and I realized that I was jealous. Jealous at the fact that you were paying all of your attention to Richard and not me. Of course your parents made you but I remember making Richard my sworn enemy that day. Stupid huh?” You smile and run a hand down his cheek.

“No not at all. I can’t believe you remember that.” His words made you think for a moment. He had been in love with you for so long and you didn’t even notice.

“Tom?” You ask.

“Yes Y/N?” Your body almost turned to jelly at his readiness to do anything for you. The adoration was so obvious that “in love” could easily be stamped on the slightly older boy's forehead.

“Would it be crazy to say I am, whole heartedly, absolutely, in love with you Thomas Blake?”

“No it wouldn’t.” He laughed.

“And would I be absolutely mad to say that I am, insanely, crazily, in love with you Y/N L/N?” You shake your head with a smile and with that he leans in once more and continues the eventful night with a loving yet lustful kiss.

His hands begin to have a mind of their own as they roam your body. After exploring most of your many curves, his left hand slowly made its way under your dress, lifting it slightly and beginning to touch you over your knickers.

“Oh my.” You gasp out as he places a tad bit of pressure on your clit.

“How are you feeling?” He asks, watching your reactions intently.

“Very tingling, ve-very g-good.” You try to get out in between gasps. He smirks proudly at this and begins creating circles against the fabric that covers your centre.

“Off. Off Tom, please.” You slightly beg. Wanting to make you feel good, Tom begins to slide your knickers down your legs and chucks them off to the side.

“Can I see?” He asks sheepishly. You curve your neck so you can see him down between your legs.

“Yes.” You respond. With a steady hand, Tom lifts your dress, dropping it up around your waist and groans at the sight of your exposed, glistening cunt.

“Wow.” Is all he can say.

“Tom!” You whine, unable to bear the throbbing feeling between your thighs.

“Sorry, just got distracted.” He mutters. Tom then leans in and lets out a hot breath. Your legs clench at this and Tom becomes aware with just how sensitive you really are.

“I’m going to kiss you here. Is that alright darling?” You nod weakly and with that his lips attach to your centre. A moan is drawn out of you almost instantly.

“Fuck. This cannot be your first time.” You blurt out, clutching his hair. He smirks against you before he sits up again and places a long kiss on your awaiting lips.

“Just you darling. It’s always been you.” You giggle in response and wrap your arms around his neck and pull him flush against you.

“Y/N I don’t know how much longer I can last without putting my cock in you.” He spurts out in pent up frustration.

“Charming words there.” you scoff before he begins to unbutton his dirty work slack and push them down his legs.

“Can I unlace you’re-“ you sit up, already knowing what he is about to say. Your hands swing to the back of your dress and you quickly begin to unravel the back, letting it fall off your upper body. Your breasts were perked to the air from outside.

“Christ.” He says before leaning down and taking one breast into his mouth. He is slow and gentle with his actions, clearly showing you how important this moment was for him. With small mewls leaving your lips every once in a while, you ran your fingers through his hair again. This time you made sure to be more soft on his scalp.

“I’m ready, are you?” He whispers as he moves his mouth up to your jaw, hands still caressing your bosom. You nod slowly which makes him smile. It was finally going to happen.

He brings himself up again and places his hands on either side of your head.

You take a moment to take in his member. The only time you had seen one was when you snuck an anatomy book from the library when you were in school. Seeing one in real life was a whole new experience

He notices your stare and smirks.

“Everything alright?” He asks.

“I don’t know. It’s so different from the books. This is all so new to me.”

“It’s alright darling. We will learn together.” You nod in response and before you knew it, he was beginning to insert himself into you.

The feeling was so forgein and awkward that you had to smack him to stop.

“Ow fuck, Tom stop!” He quickly removes himself and holds you into his chest.

“Are you alright? Did I hurt you?” You grab him tighter in thanks and lean away a tad to look at his concerned face.

“It feels so tight. Could you maybe use your fingers first?” He nods and slips a hand down your dress again. One finger is dipped inside and you let out a sigh of relief. This was a lot easier to manage, you thought.

“Oh Thomas that feels so good.” You say. He smiles and takes your praise to allow himself to enter a second finger. Your legs clench a tad as he moves his fingers in and out, every once in a while, spreading your increased wetness along your slit.

“I think I’m ready now.” You say. It didn’t take much for him to remove his fingers and lick off your wetness. Then he positioned himself the same way he did not that long before. His member slipped into you and this time around it felt a lot less uncomfortable. It still caused a pressure but not enough for you to scream bloody murder.

“Should I move?” He asks. You were doing it. This was no longer a dream or a fantasy. Thomas Blake was staring down at you with his cock inside at the hilt.

“God yes.” You moan while throwing your head back and closing your eyes. Tom began retracting his hip and then swirled them around before pushing forward again.

“Fuck me.” He cries out.

“I’m so happy we did this.” He says. You grip his shirt and open up the rest of the buttons, allowing the rest of his torso to be revealed to you. Your hands ran up and down his chest and soft stomach.

“Slow down.” You whisper gently. He nods and his movements start to calm. His eyes are entranced by yours and you can’t help but notice tears in his eyes.

“Are you crying?” You ask.

“I’m going to miss you so much.” He whimpers back, as he continues to move back and forth within you. Tears began brimming your eyes and as you both let tears fall through your orgasms, you pulled him flush against you.

“Come home to me.” You kept repeating.

“I promise.” He would say back with as much of a clear voice he could muster up.

And with that your legs begin to shake and you let out an elongated moan. His seed spills deep inside of you and as he removes himself from your core you can't help but feel it drip down your inner thigh.

“I love you Thomas Blake.”

“I love you Y/N L/N.”

———

You stared blankly out the kitchen window as you dried off the plates from lunch. The sky was a gloomy grey but no rain fell. Mrs Blake sat silently in the living room, knitting a small bonet with yellow yarn.

Your mind was somewhere else that you hadn’t initially noticed a car pull up and a soldier stepping out, letter in hand.

The plate you had been drying crashes in the soapy water beneath you and you quickly dry your hands on your apron as you attempt to run out the front door.

“Mrs Blake?” The man asks as you open the door rather frantically.

“No but she’s in. Iris!” You call out. She walks slowly from her chair and situates herself beside you.

“I’m Mrs Blake.” Her words were shaky. It was almost as though she knew exactly what was about to come out of the man's mouth.

“We regret to inform you that Thomas Blake was killed in action on April 6th. His belongings will be sent to you in the next couple of weeks. We are sorry for your loss and the rest of the information given will be found in this letter.” And with that the man looked down at your stomach and sighed with sorrow before handing over the letter and walking back to the car.

Your legs went numb instantly. The only sounds you could make were loud gut wrenching sobs. You clenched your stomach as you held onto the door frame for support.

“He’s gone Iris! My beautiful Tom is gone!” She grabbed you and mixed your sobs with hers. Myrtle and the puppies were now at your feet, grazing your calves in a calming matter, almost as though they had known what had happened.

“My boy!” She lets out.

“My baby boy!”

————

Dear Y/N,

I can safely say that this is one of the hardest letters I have ever had to write. I am sure you have gotten the news before this gets to you so I want to say that I am so sorry for your loss. Tom was nothing but a good, selfless man who cared for others so deeply. Before he died, his only wish was that I wrote to you and his mother. He talked about you every chance he could. The stories from when the two of you were little, how you were the most beautiful being that he had ever seen. How him replaying your laugh in his head was the only way to get him to sleep at night when things were tough here in the trenches. He didn’t die in vain. He died knowing that he fulfilled his duty of loving you each waking moment, even if it saddened him he couldn’t do it alive for much longer.

I remember his last words to me so very clearly.

“Tell my beautiful Y/N I love her. That I will always be with her.”

He handed me this picture of the two of you together. There is some blood on it but he would have wanted you to have it nevertheless. I hope this gives you peace during these trying times and god bless Y/N.

Sincerely,

William Schofield

“Mommy, mommy look!” A small voice calls out. You drop the letter and picture of you and Tom staring longingly at each other that you had read and looked at so many times before to see your son holding a small pool of water in his hands.

“What do you have there?” You call out. He then runs up from the river and drops down beside you under the willow tree you were situated at.

“I caught a tadpole!” He says proudly.

“That’s amazing Thomas!” He smiles at your encouraging words before running back down to the water. You watched him intently as he giggled in entertainment. Sometimes you had to let out steady breaths to stop yourself from crying. He was truly the spitting image of his father, a mini Tom if you will. The icy blue eyes and the chocolate wavy hair gave him away so easily. It pained you so much to wake up and see your Tom in him every day, but it was also a blessing in disguise. Even though Tom was no longer around, he had left you a gift that you could never thank him enough for. Tom Jr was so sweet and kind and loved making friends with everyone he came across, just like his father. He was your support system and you both adored each other. He was your best friend.

And for that, you were internally grateful to Mr. Thomas Blake.

[samuel-dean]

This And That

INVOLVED: Samuel Evans and Mercedes Jones LOCATION: Evans’ Estate; Irving, Texas TIME FRAME: - NOTES: Mercedes seeks Samuel and the two don’t see eye-to-eye about the recent events.

Samuel walked through the massive estate with a glass of bourbon in his hand, he rounded the corner quietly, his feet carrying him towards the sitting area. Sitting before the 98-inch 8k ultra-HD television he never used, and he turned it on. He had a lot to think about, a lot to devise, there needed to be a plan in place for a lot of things. He didn’t know which one was more important right now, his personal life or work one. Both happened to be a shit show, at any given time rearing its ugly head at him. He flipped through the channels slowly and he sat in the darkness, taking a sip. He sat his glass down on the coffee table and didn’t mind the butler who moved it only to sit a coaster down and place it back on top of it.

The echoes in the halls were loud here. Not like the Atlanta house. That mansion was a cozy country home when compared to this… this… castle she thought. Praying she would not get lost for a second time today. It was hard to play childish games of being mad but wanting to coax into forgetting your anger when the house is so massive it sits across different zip codes. Love was a fool’s game or at least that is what she’d always heard. Now Mercedes knew it was true. She loved two people more than her own anger even though her pride still had her sharing a wing with her daughter. Two opposing things were happening. Love and business. She’d never had both at once. And to make matters worse, they shared the focal point of being Samuel Dean. On second thought she wanted to get lost again, maybe another lap around the house would settle her mind.

Watching the peculiar woman from afar the maid squinted a bit, she truly was curious as to what the woman was doing or looking for at this time of night? She would have helped however she didn’t like overstepping boundaries between Mr. Evans and whomever he chose to bring along. They all knew of this fiancée, they’d seen her in papers and magazines, however seeing her up close shined light. She wasn’t that intimidating. “Do you need help?” Maria finally spoke stepping out of the shadows. “Are you looking for something?” she asked her directly.  

The press conference still swirled in and out of Mercedes mind. That and the way Samuel had been mostly silent on the issue since it had ended. There hadn’t really been any further conversation on what should or would happen next. Mercedes jumped, startled by a voice from the shadows. “What?” She snapped without thought, her voice echoing the cavernous halls. She exhaled, calming herself. “Excuse Me. No, I was just exploring. Would you happen to know where Samuel is?”

The woman blinked at Mercedes as she questioned her, she didn’t speak immediately. At her comment Maria nodded her head understandingly. At her next question she looked in the direction the woman desired “the sitting area ma’am” she said to her.

Samuel continued to flip past all the News outlets who were covering nothing more than the spill and he settled for ESPN. Sitting the remote down on the table next to his glass “I am hungry Greg” he said to the man as he looked over at him.

“What would you desire?” the Greg asked Samuel.

“I would love a turkey sandwich with cheese, lettuce, tomato, bacon, toasted bread” he listed “some potato chips” he told him. “As you wish” the butler said as he moved to part ways with Samuel, Greg headed for the kitchen to retrieve the mail.

It was kind of unsettling, first that Mercedes found herself asking for her supposed fiancé and second that the maid knew with ease.  She would never get used to all of this. Mercedes followed the woman’s gaze, “that way?” she hesitated for a moment, fidgeting uncomfortably as a schoolgirl. With a deep breath, she uttered, “Thank you” moving towards the seating room. There in the room, sat Samuel, sports news dominating the humongous television. “You up late… Any particular reason?” She asked, stepping into the space.

“That way” Maria said back to Mercedes with a head nod before the woman walked off.

Samuel leaned in for his drink and put his feet up, taking it down he held the glass out and said “another one” hearing steps behind him. When he heard Mercedes' voice, he looked at her and said “I could say the same for you” easily. “I guess I’m just not that tired,” he said back to her.

Greg came back with a fully made sandwich and chips, he sat it before Samuel and then took his glass. “I shall return sir” he said.

Mercedes followed Greg over to Samuel, “You could…” she smirked softly, taking a seat on the table.  “Same.” Reaching down she plucked a chip from Samuel’s plate.  “Why didn’t you talk to me?” she asked, coolly placing the chip into her mouth.

Samuel grabbed the plate and looked at Mercedes. His drink was delivered, and he watched her as she grabbed a chip. “About?” He asked her confused as he picked up one half of his sandwich and bit into it.

Mercedes shrugged, reaching for another chip. “Anything. We have a hundred things to speak on actually.” She scraped her teeth over her bottom lip, “Are you avoiding me Samuel?”

Biting into his sandwich again, he said nothing in response at first. Samuel licked his lips and said, “avoid you?” He questioned. “You packed your things and moved to another wing; I find it incapable to avoid you when I hardly see you anyway” he said biting into his sandwich again.

The literal mind of Samuel was tiring sometimes.  “Mhm…” Mercedes said, picking up Samuel’s cup this time.  “I’m sure you know how to navigate this house.” She told the man sipping from his cup.

“I shouldn’t have to because you should be OUR bed” Samuel said forcefully, he pulled his plate away from her and narrowed his eyes as she took his cup and had a sip. “Greg do you mind fixing me another drink sir?” he said annoyingly as he looked at the man with a smile.

Mercedes’ eyebrow lifted at Samuel’s tone. A tight smile forming around the side of the cup.  Lowering the drink, “Is that so…” She sighed deeply, almost giggling as Samuel ordered another drink. “And what if I say I couldn’t find OUR bed. Or better yet, you seemed content to let me stay where I was.” She asked the man playfully, crossing one thick leg over the other.  

Samuel stuffed the rest of the sandwich into his mouth and he licked his lips again, eyes moving back to the massive tv. He watched the men as they spoke for a moment “I’d say I don’t believe” he shrugged “and on the later, I didn’t feel the need to chase you” he said truthfully. He picked up the other half of his sandwich and bit into it before he looked at Greg who returned with his drink. “Here you are sir” the man said before he left “thanks” he told the man. Samuel lifted his drink and took a sip before he placed it back down.

Mercedes uncrossed her leg and sat up stiffly. “No, I don’t suppose you would.” She said dryly. “Enjoy your late-night meal. Greg would you mind showing me back to my room? I tend to get lost here.” She said getting to her feet.

Samuel's eyes stayed focused on the tv screen, however as she moved to stand up and asked Greg for directions he looked towards Greg. “Greg I am going to say this plainly, don’t move” he told the man easily. “I find it very funny how Ms. Jones managed to pack her shit and move to another wing without assistance. And has managed to find you and I tonight. I also find it funny how she couldn’t ask you or any of the other 100 and one fucking people in here how to reach our bedroom, but she opened her big mouth right now and to do so. She’ll find it herself” he said towards the man before he looked away. “Trust me her mouth and feet have guided her very far in this life, she doesn’t need your help or my help for that matter” he said turning back to the tv as he took another bite.

Mercedes pivoted on her feet, turning back to Samuel perch in his seat. The literal king of the castle. One quick step between Samuel's legs and she poured the contents of his cup over his head, then dropped the glass on the couch beside him.  “They sure have. As have my hands. You spoiled brat!”

Samuel looked at Mercedes as she poured the drink on him, his eyes moved downwards to his ruined plate. His head tilted before he looked back up at her eyes darkened. “Right” he said to her simply as he moved to stand up and with little effort and not much choice, he pushed her out of his way. He moved around the couch finally before he forcefully pitched the plate towards the nearby wall.

Mercedes fell lightly to the couch as Samuel moved to stand. Bouncing as she hit the cushion. “Excuse you…” She muttered.  Jumping, back to her feet immediately. She watched him angrily hurl the plate and flinched as it hit the wall shattering into a million pieces.  Her mouth hung gapping, hazel eyes huge with astonishment. Working life back into her body. “What is wrong with you?” She asked in a breathless tone.

Samuel walked away trying to calm down and move to his bedroom no less to shower. Her question caused his eye to twitch and he said, “my problem is YOU!” loud enough for the entire house to hear. “In a perfect world you have everything you could fucking need yet it’s not enough, is it?” he asked her seriously. His hands were clasped together in front of himself, his stance completely defensive. “You fired Patricia under whatever grounds you came up with, you got rid of her ass and your ass didn’t have a backup plan NOR did you give a FUCK about assisting me in mine” he said angrily. “I brought you here for comfort because that's what you usually tend to be, but somehow you’ve managed to be yet another THORN in my SIDE” he said bitterly. “I didn’t fire her because I didn’t have anyone else to pick up the slack, you are so smart, yet your brain leaves you every time PATRICIA is INVOLVED” he said. “I don’t fucking want her; how can I have time to peruse her when you give me a run for my money every time shit doesn’t g o your way. Every time you get in your own got damn head?” he asked. “If I wanted another fucking woman beneath me, I’d never have time for her because I am always too damn busy trying to figure your little ass out” he said. “You got up there and you played CEO so damn well, when no one asked you to. So, thank you, yet again for making me look like a jackass. Packing your shit to run wasn’t enough was it, Mercedes?” he asked her. “I could fire Patricia tomorrow, but the problem won’t end there and I both know it. You’ll find another reason to continue this cycle. No ring. No amount of kids. No house. No car. No jewelry, nothing. Absolutely nothing will assist me in being able to freely love you with no limitations. The only suggestion I can give you Mercedes at this point of time in MY life. Is to go back to what you know, and what brings YOU” he said pointing to her “comfort, I don’t think I am it” he said gazing at her. He exhaled slowly before he turned around and walked away completely this time.

Mercedes' neck swiveled as she looked around the room trying to find the person this overgrown man child was speaking too. She pointed to him then back to herself, “Are you really trying to chastise me for some shit that’s irrelevant?’ she asked, hands going to her ample hips. “Ms. Patricia never spent one hour, day or minute in a welfare line. So, I can give a merry fuck about any of the words you just strung together. My brain leaves me. Fuck you Samuel, I was worried about her when she was a ghost in the wind. But now I know I might just need to be. You have her all tuck away better than any side pieces I have ever known.” She returned raising her voice now to match his. Mercedes turned ready to storm off when the last part of the stupid tirade caught her attention. “Playing CEO?” She whispered the words to herself as if they were some foreign language.  “You have quite the knack for lying to my face.” She said, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. “I was trying to help Samuel. Not undermine you.”

“You always try to do some shit, but the shit never really helps, now does it?” he asked her curiously. He looked at her like she was actually dumb as he stood there rounding the corner. “I have to be reminded that you are the same woman who had no issues giving our child your last name” he reminded. “That same I don’t give a fuck about anyone and how they feel ass chick” he yelled. “Who cares who is affected as long as you get to do what you want, when you want, whenever you want it” he told her. “Fuck me?” he asked her curiously, “that would be nice” he told her nodding his head with a smirk. “Maybe if someone focused more so on fucking, they wouldn’t have to worry about the next woman!” he argued. “SHE’S so irrelevant now but she was RELEVANT ENOUGH for you to pack your shit” he said sliding across the floor in his socks. “And HIGH TAIL YOUR ASS ACROSS THE GOT DAMN HOUSE” he said voice booming through the space as he slid back across the floor. “What’s really relevant right now!” he said rapidly pointing downwards as he did. “IS YOU WHO HAS NO JOB. NO RESPONSIBILITIES OUTSIDE OF OUR CHILD. NO DAMN WORRIES. NO DAMN PROBLEMS TO SOLVE. MONEY OUT YOUR ASS! To act accordingly! Sit your got damn ass down somewhere and look like the rich fucking fiancée of a rich ass man that you are!” he said, his veins protruding. “That’s it!” he said “we aren’t doing this back-and-forth shit anymore Mercedes. Go fucking buy a horse, go to Italy, have another baby. Go do something, but what you aren’t going to do is keep helping unless HELPING is really what you are trying to do! STOP, BEING, so GOT DAMN PETTY!” he screamed.

There he was the Samuel that hid until times such as these. That evil motherfucker, that made her want to kill him and piss on his grave. Nothing was off limits or held back. He threw everything at her, even the kitchen sink. Mercedes blinked rapidly, trying fruitlessly to hold back tears of anger, “Fucking AIN’T MY ISSUE-” She challenged, looking him up and down as if he’d lost is rabbit ass mind. “I ain’t worried but maybe you should be. You disrespectful jerk. Stop twisting my action to fit your narrative. I ain’t bothered by Patty cake. I’m pissed that you lied to my fucking face for months. Apparently, you lie to my face every chance you get.  You say you forgive me for Nouvel’s name- lie. Leaving the press conference- lie.  Why did you ask me to marry you? Was that a lie too? Or was that just to keep your child and money close?” Her breast heaved she was more upset than she’d ever been. “I’ll stop being petty the same day you stop being a liar.”  

“Okay I didn’t ask for that” Samuel said barely above a whisper as he rested his hands on his hips nodding his head. That wasn’t even the point she didn’t have to bring up his issue like that. “Okay, I am a liar” he said to her nodding his head once more “I am a liar, you win” he told her offering her a smile with his head nod. “I lie, you do nothing, you are perfect” he said gesturing to her with both hands. “I often forget that” he told her. “I didn’t have to ask you to marry me for her, you and I both know what my money is capable of” he told her. “And I don’t know if you’ve noticed but you are cut checks that don’t come from me, so try again brainiac” he said scrunching his face playfully to mock her. “You know why I asked you to marry me but then again with you, you probably truly don’t know do you?” he asked her curiously. “I know it may be hard to see one’s potential when you are constantly doubting yourself and everything around you. Life gets hard and people’s only way of striving is to make everyone else around them just as miserable I suppose. I don’t know” he shrugged. “But I now know, plain and clear. That I am the problem, and you are perfect” he said offering her a smile cutely before he walked off.

“Don’t walk off from me.” Mercedes said moving to cut the much bigger man off. “That’s not the point, I’m not trying to win. I’m trying to understand all this- this vitriol.” She wiped angry tears away from her cheeks. “But you can’t…” She took a breath trying to regain control over herself. “I gave a speech Samuel.  I was wrong for stepping in. -I saw you… - don’t know. I did what comes natural to me. I tried to fix it. It’s all I know to do. And what you’ve done for me. I wasn’t built to sit back and watch the people I love get attacked. I don’t know how to be that kind of woman. I’m sorry I hurt you. But truly that wasn’t my intention.”

As she cut him off, he looked down at her with his brows furrowed. She spoke and he listened, he saw tears and quite frankly it made him feel bad as she apologized, he stood there quietly. A lot of thoughts ran through his head after her apology, some things he could say others unnecessary, most probably needed. However, he couldn’t form a proper statement. As he stared in her eyes his brows relaxed and he blinked “I apologize too” Samuel said, testing the words even as they left his lips. “For starting this argument and the whole 9 yards” he added. “You didn’t deserve the harsh way I expressed myself and the rude things I said” he told her.

Mercedes hugged herself, head low wet tears dropping from her full cheeks to splash onto the floor. Nodding an acceptance to his apology, she scrubbed away more of the offending droplets trying to stifle them at the source. She was though in the present moment unable to shake the words that echoed too close to those of Patricia. “You are right. I am rash without truly thinking everything through.  I just get so upset and jealous. I don’t know how to handle it all sometimes, but I’m trying. I swear to you I am”.

Samuel rubbed his forehead gently as he looked at her “though I appreciate you helping with everything else you have” her said “what I needed were you a little closer than on the other side of the house” he breathed. “You didn’t even let me explain and you quickly forgot that you said she couldn’t be in our home, not my assistant” he said looking at her with a small head nod, that was something that needed to be agreed upon. “I kept her out of sight and out of mind, if that makes me a liar, I accept that” he told her. “I don’t hold on to all of the stuff I used as an example, because that’s what they are. I just want you to know that you don’t trust me and have no reason not to. And you are doing more damage in those regards than anything else….”

Mercedes sniffed. His ideals were still hard to hear but his change in tone allowed her to listen with a clear mind. She had said exactly that… Though he neglected to remember the part where he said, he’d vowed to fire the woman.  It was, at this point, a moot point. “All I can do is try. Sometimes, Samuel, you have to know I will fail. To change how you view the world is a hard thing.” She looked up at the man, “-I came to you tonight. But you were so upset… I trust you. You have to know that. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be here.”

“I don’t really think you do” Samuel said “I think you just hang in the balance of it all, with a bag packed and ready” he said honestly. “You call it lying I call it protection” he said “and part of that is because I know you will run” he told her. “You don’t need me, for anything, I get it” he said nodding his head. “You have people in places you’d rather have near, Titus for one” he told her. “Which frustrates me, because I know that you can’t just be here to satisfy me. You aren’t just going along with this because you feel bad for me” he said looking at her. “I proposed because I can see everything, I’ve ever wanted with you, that’s it” he told her. “I proposed because for the first time in my life, I know that I could throw this all away” he said referencing his job and possessions “and you’d stay, and you’d still make my life far more content than this money ever really did...”

Mercedes' heart cracked and shattered much like the plate against the wall. She actually missed him yelling that she could dismiss wrapped in a healthy layer of anger… no this was much worse. She shook her head violently, revoking his words. She tried to speak but each word came in stutterers and starts. “You... no... I...” She repeated over and over, trying to get her thoughts together. Ultimately, he was correct, and you can’t argue against the truth. You had to choose a clear firm path. “No…” She said softly in a voice firm, sure. “I want to be here, but you are correct I don’t know how to rest in that. I’m so sorry. I don’t want you to feel that way anymore Samuel. I don’t want to do this anymore. I want you to believe me. What can I do to prove that to you?” She asked with a sight hiccup.

Samuel watched the woman as she explained to him how she felt about his previous statement. “You could be more open” Samuel said to her seriously “I don’t know you the way you know me” he said looking at her. “I don’t really know your innermost personal thoughts” he breathed, folding his arms over his chest.  

Mercedes gathered her robe tightening the tie. “Like what?” She asked in confusion. “I don’t necessarily feel that I’m keeping anything from you.” Which to her mind she wasn’t. Not really anyway. “Give me an example.”

“Really Mercedes?” Samuel asked with a raised brow as he looked at her. “You really think you willingly let me in on everything?” he asked her curiously.

Mercedes smiled a bitter sad looking thing that shined true in her eyes. “No.” She said in a matter-of-fact tone. “I don’t think I have. Of course not. What I’ve held onto are things that most people don’t want to hear. Things I don’t like to think about let alone say out loud to you. I never had to share my life Samuel. The people already a part of my life knew everything because we lived it together and newcomers simply didn’t want to know.” She confessed.  “It may seem little to you, but you really do know more about me then everyone except Titus.”

“I could give you examples, but I don’t care about that as long as you are really willing to be more open” he told her. Samuel moved to wrap her up in a hug “I am sorry” he told her sweetly, he pecked her forehead. “I thought I was doing stuff to help you tear down the walls, but obviously I have more work to do myself” he admitted. “So, I am sorry” he offered.

“I am.” Mercedes agreed, laying her head on his chest. It was his turn to prove anything more to her. She had a lot of work to do and knew it. “Don’t be” she wrapped her arms tightly around his waist. “I love you.” She exhaled into the space between them.

Samuel smiled a little bit when she wrapped her arms around his midsection, “I love you too” he said to her, pecking her forehead again. “You should go get some rest, I am going to clean this mess and get ready for bed myself…” he told her.

Mercedes smiled at the touch of his lips to her head. Faking a yawn. “I’m tired.” She agreed slowly pulling away from Samuel.  “See you in the morning.” She said moving to walk away from the man.

Samuel looked at her nodding his head “can I at least get a kiss on the lips before you leave?” he asked her playfully as he stood there.

Mercedes' grin spread over her face like the rising sun. Turning back, she grabbed Samuel’s hand and yanked over to the couch, where she stepped up onto the coffee table. Face to face and eye to eye, she ran her finger through his still damp hair.  “Absolutely.” She said kissing softly on the lips. She lingered there for a moment tasting first his bottom then his top lip, then pulled away from him, “Anything else?” she asked, arms wrapped around his neck.

Moving along with the woman, he stood before the couch again as she climbed on the not so cheap coffee table to meet his gaze. He kissed her back tenderly and looked into her eyes “no, I think that will suffice” Samuel said with a smirk.

Mercedes frowned, tightening her arms on the man. “Take me to our room Samuel, before I go sleep with Nouvel. If you are nice, I will even wash your hair for you.”

Samuel looked to Greg apologetically, he really would have cleaned the mess up. But at this point of time Mercedes came first. “Okay” he looked back at her, hoisting her up into his arms.

[hopeymchope]

Magia Record: Reflecting on the Anime and the Game’s Story Ending

With Magia Record's story now complete in-game and with the anime "finished" (only the first season, but it took until literally this past weekend for the production team at Shaft to acknowledge that the second season is coming/inevitable), I have like… a ton of thoughts about where the game and the anime landed.

This will probably mostly be gripes, but overall, I'm still pretty happy with both. I've invested my past year into Magia Record during a lot of my free time, and hey – no regrets here. That game was absolutely worth the experience. The anime? Jury's still out somewhat, but it looks good so far.

This is definitely a normal thing to find surrounding a radio tower.

Anime Adaptation Thoughts:

The original Madoka Magica anime made the world feel slightly off-kilter by employing locations that were just a little off the rails from reality. The producers noted Madoka's bathroom as an important example; it's simply too large and has too much wasted space. It's maybe the biggest room in their house for no discernible reason, and that's by design, because it feels wrong. Another one was the music store we see in the first episode, where the technology is noticeably on a level that you just can't find in any real shop. On the flip side, the Magia Record anime creates a world that is deeply bizarre in many ways – much moreso than the original anime or the Magia Record game world. This is probably because the creator of the witch designs in the original was given far more creative control over the series as a whole this time around, and the result was BUGNUTS. Take note of the massive stack of discarded school desks that is arranged in a dangerous, precarious pile atop the school building (helpfully labeled as a waste pile, despite the fact that… well, who is picking up these garbage desks from the goddamn roof?). That's some imagery straight out of a witch's labyrinth, but it is ostensibly "reality." I think that's where Magia Record's anime really goes bugnuts, sometimes to powerful effect in that it makes things feel more unsettling… and sometimes to ridiculous effect. I mean, the field surrounding the radio tower now being replaced with a yard of jagged, cockeyed, towering gravestones and cross-like woodwork dangling with ropes and tridents? That's a LOT. That's… that's too much.

Look, if you were a die-hard fan of Kaede in the game, I am deeply sorry, because your girl got done DIRTY by the anime. Anyone who played the game who then sees where she winds up at the end of episode 12 is likely on a train straight to Double-You Tee Eff Station. I can't deny that it makes sense for the limited story she's given to develop across, but it was still disappointing to see. I suppose we don't really have the time to develop up all of the other characters from the game, so somebody had to sub in for this role… but oof.

Sana's backstory with her family is not nearly explained or explored enough in the show. I honestly think it comes off as confusingly unclear why they treated her like this or why they didn't notice her vanish at all. The game justifies this devastatingly well, but it feels like it's not clear at all here.

I think they could've had Kyubey run around Kamihama for part of the first season before he got ousted/blocked, and I think it would've been beneficial to do so. Now, that's not just because I love his character and find him fascinating, although that's definitely true, but it's also because there's so much exposition that I wish he could deliver to the characters about what's happened before we got here. Like, the tragic truth about Felicia's backstory is wonderfully awful, and I wish there was some way to deliver that into the anime, but I don't think it's possible without a ton of flashbacks. (And to be fair, players of the game may never know it without playing her particular Magical Girl Story.)

The change to not having Mami attack Yachiyo when they first meet was something I felt was a positive move. I loved that Mami got to have a moment she never had in the game during the Radio Tower arc, too. In generally, I enjoyed the slower, more piecemeal involvement of the original Holy Quintet, which has served as nice slow tease compared to having them be more upfront in the game. I did kind of miss the Madoka/Homura involvement in the radio tower case, but I ultimately came away feeling like it was better to save those two for later in the story because they're probably the best-known characters from the original series.

The combat soundtrack is exquisite - maybe better than ever before, honestly. The Magia Record anime has the best fight music in the series outside of, say, Rebellion.

Game's Ending Thoughts: (Spoilers Within)

The anime cutscenes in the final chapter are delightful.

Puella Magi has never shied away from having its characters die in the original anime or in the many manga stories. I'd argue that those deaths are at least part of what makes it such a successful subversion of the Magical Girl formula; the threat of death (often via witchiness) establishes the idea of there being permanent consequences that simple hope and faith and love can't overcome in spite of what those other anime may have told you. On the other hand, Magia Record turns out to have very close to zero consequences. Aside from established deaths from flashbacks that have occurred before the game even begins, by the end of the game, literally no one dies. Not even the most blatantly psychotic character is allowed to shuffle off her mortal coil; she just "disappears" and escapes. I particularly like (please note the sarcasm) how three different characters do some kind of "super-move" during the final two chapters that is said to most likely kill them, and yet they all survive them! At least ONE character winds up with some paralysis, but jeez, the others walk away completely unscathed. I can only hope the anime doesn't go quite so weak in the knees about any of the characters suffering actual consequences from the potentially-world-ending-level battles that occur.

I previously griped that I actually expected the psychos responsible for the entire storyline to get off scot-free, and although they don't get off 100% free and clear by the time the credits role, they come extremely close to doing so. However, I was really happy with the "Cherry Blossom Dreams" epilogue event, because there is dialogue in there that has the Magius admit that whatever guilt they have now, they are still capable of being complete sociopaths who want to dominate the Earth. That one person's presence (Ui) shouldn't be (and isn't) enough to keep them from being incredibly dangerous. Ultimately, the solution/punishment they receive is probably the best one available in light of their overall survival. Well done.

Speaking of the Magius, I mean… is it really possible that so many feathers never questioned that they were following a couple of 11/12-year-olds and one blatantly obvious psychotic? I guess having face time with the Magius was pretty rare, but there was still enough that some of the feathers declared their allegiance was primarily to those three above all else. And most magical girls range closer to 16 than to 11, I mean, y'know? Which is practically an eternity in terms of maturity. So I guess MIfuyu did a lot of heavy lifting on NOT making them seem like absolutely the worst possible choices for leadership, huh? (And for that reason: Mifuyu got off fucking LIGHT.)

Aaaand speaking of "one obvious psychotic," I find it funny how almost nobody knows Alina outside of her Magius role except for Karin. Because, just… it's so perfect. Karin (who is not a "Karen") happens to be the most insanely tolerant person when it comes to Alina. She seems to shrug off Alina's entire everything as amusing, forgivable quirks. Perhaps because so many people believe Karin's own obsession with Halloween is a weirdly morbid quirk, Karin doesn't even question Alina's obsession with making art about death using actual human remains. Which is… funny? No, seriously. I think it's legitimately comedic in a good way. But it should probably be much more alarming to me that she doesn't care. I'd like to think that Karen feels it's just delightfully Halloween-y for Alina to paint her canvas with legit blood, and I do believe Karin isn't really the kind of person who would ask where the blood came from because whatever, it's probably fine, better get back to planning my pageant or something. She probably even thinks Alina's skulls are plastic Halloween decorations. :P

We need to talk about Mami: Mami in "Another Story Chapter 9" felt so off and out-of-character compared to how she was written in things like Rebellion or A Different Story or Wraith Arc, and furthermore, despite that chapter being entirely about Mami wanting to just be a simple peer with no superiority over the rest of the Holy Quintet, Another Story Chapter 10 has her immediately revert back to being the smart senpai character, further cementing how weirdly "off" Chapter 9 felt. I realize they had something difficult to write, here, though. It's painful how Sayaka has to run middlewoman between Kyoko and Mami in Chapter 10 of AS. I feel like I could write a whole screed about Kyoko's behavior across the franchise and how difficult a character she is for me to like even though I "get it" and don't think she's necessarily a bad person; she's just living on the edge of being almost a total hypocrite basically ALL THE TIME. The conclusion where Kyoko acknowledges that she's going to continue to work with Mami and the others semi-regularly in spite of everything is really the best closure you can hope for with her. She's too antagonistic to give us much else, and she prefers it that way. It would take years to see her mellow.

At this point, it seems safe to assume that there isn't going to be any "season 2" of the game like what happened with Fate/Grand Order after its finale. The main narrative is well and truly done, and it's just going to be various events from here on out. Is that enough to keep me around? Um. I don't know. Probably not? Hard to say. I don't really know what other mobile game to throw my heart into. I've considered Attack on Titan Tactics, but like… Attack on Titan hasn't been kind to me lately so uhhhhh.

[mollymauk-teafleak]

The Man That Came Back

Thanks so much to @minky-for-short and @spiky-lesbian, my wonderful betas

Please consider leaving a comment on Ao3, it’s free, easy and means so much! 

---

For the next part of their plan, a heist needs to be pulled off in the fanciest bar on Saturn. And Buddy knows exactly how Juno can disguise himself, much to the delight of Nureyev

---

“Captain, all due respect and everything but that’s got to be the most ridiculous idea I ever heard.”

Buddy gave him a more than slightly exhausted look over the building plans she was studying on her comms screen, “You know, darling, it would be incredibly helpful if that wasn’t your response to every single plan I put in front of you…”

Juno gave her one of his scowls, the ones where he pouted a little and scrunched up his face, where he knew he was being unreasonable but was going to be stubborn all the same, “Well, let’s just say this one tops the whole damn lot! I don’t even...how...how do you even imagine I’d be any good at this?”

Buddy seemed to be tuning him out for the most part, eyes returning to her screen as the floorplan of the bar rotated slowly, exactly where their marks would enter, meet and most likely leave plotted out in glowing lines, “From the data I gathered on you, same way I know not to send you to any job that may, for some unknown reason, take place in a seafood restaurant owing to your allergy to shellfish. I like to know my crew, young lady, their likes, dislikes, the skills they boast about...and the skills they don’t. Keeps things smooth, interesting and us alive.”

Juno had very little reply to that, still choking on the embarrassment he was hiding behind annoyance, “But...what kind of database has that on file?”

“No database that I’ve ever heard of, darling, but you are aware that your high school yearbooks are also digitised and on file, easily accessible in the archives if one has no more information than your name?”

Juno stalled at that, turning somehow redder, “And that was relevant when hiring me to be a space pirate, was it?”

“As far as I’m concerned,” Buddy raised an eyebrow, tracing a new glowing line onto the screen with her finger, “When I am inviting someone new into my family, everything is relevant. Would you pick a sibling or cousin so carelessly, if you had the chance to do so?”

“But…” Juno screwed up his face even tighter, clearly recognising he was trapped in an unwinnable argument but unwilling to go down without a pointless fight, “Of all the jobs, why did it have to be this?”

With a flick of devastatingly manicured fingers, Buddy blew up the plan into a hologram between them and spoke as if to a small child, “The view offered by that position is unparalleled, you’ll be able to see every table as well as the entrances to the bathrooms and the kitchens, thereby covering every possible means of escape for our mark and you can provide a fitting distraction at a moment’s notice.”

“Yeah, yeah, I read the plans before I came in here,” Juno waved away her hands patiently pointing to what she was referencing on the miniature, translucent version of the Saturnian wine bar, The Albedo, “I get your point, doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“I grant you that,” Buddy allowed, “Look, Juno, I’m not asking for talent worthy of a Saturday night stream, you just have to be functional. Enough that we can pull off what should be this very simple and problem free job. Put away that scowl of yours and have fun with it, if you can.”

Juno groaned irritatedly and stared at the still revolving plan in front of him. A simple job. Place themselves within the bar, watch the exchange of the stolen goods between their marks then wait until they leave and re-steal it right from out their back pocket. Boom, details on where the last piece of their little puzzle was hiding, where the book was. Snatch it up before anyone else could find it and not have to pay the exorbitant price their mark probably did. Don’t rob the shadowy, organised crime seller of the information who had security coming out of their ears, rob the poor idiot who bought the thing.

Easy. But it sure as hell didn’t have to be fun.

“Just do me a favour,” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Please put minimal crew members in earshot. And for the love of all that’s holy, not Vesper.”

“Brown butter old fashioned please. With a cherry, if you have one to hand.”

A good alias was like stepping into a different skin, Nureyev had always been taught. Everything you were became less than a memory and this new personality took over completely. If you didn’t believe it, then your mark never would. It had to be complete. It had to be total. You essentially needed to die, for as long as required.

Nureyev still held true to that belief. But sometimes, on a job as easy as this one, he didn’t think it beyond the realm of possibility that your new identity may just happen to have the same favourite drink as you did.

He leaned against the bar and waited for his drink, allowing his eyes a pass over the scene. The bar was comfortably full without being a press of warm bodies in evening wear, just a generous handful of couples and groups at tables or standing with him at the bar, showing why Saturn was considered to have the most eccentric style of the solar planets. The headdresses were towering, the frills were voluminuous, the skirts were miles in diameter. Nureyev was starting to feel a little overshadowed in his simple black suit with gold embellishments set into the silk. The drinks poured out billows of dry ice and came in every colour on the spectrum apart from the usual ones. The music was the only thing old school, classic, a simple piano played by a very talented individual on a small, circular centre platform. Nureyev smiled, it was funny how some things kept coming back into fashion. How old could seem new if it was just old enough.

And in amongst the noise, familiarity. Rita, dressed as a waitress, moving between the tables, chatting animatedly with everyone she brought drinks to so her rounds took about ten times longer than she needed to. Hopefully that slight, almost unnoticeable lump in the pocket of her trousers was the signal jammer, just in case their mark tried to call him some kind of backup or there was a tracker on the goods. Rita didn’t often come down on jobs like this, her place was usually back on the ship, but she’d been desperate to see the bar itself (it had apparently been the setting for one of the streams she liked so much) and besides, if the signal changed, the jammer would need to hunt it down to take it out and Rita was the only one Buddy trusted with that task.

Jet was posing as a patron, dressed in smart dark clothes with his hair pulled back rather neatly, looking like he was struggling with the drink that had been set down in front of him. Nureyev couldn’t blame him, the thing had glowing orbs in it that looked like alien eggs. Not that he’d be drinking much of it anyway, in his usual roll as the muscle, just in case things went south. Jet was always a strong, comforting presence when they went to task and Nureyev was really starting to appreciate it. Muscles were certainly something he’d lacked, if he could be said to lack anything aside humility. Speed and cunning he had but his wiry frame had earned him more than a few bruised ribs in the past when jobs had turned irritatingly sour and fists had come out. He’d learned how to avoid those sorts of outcomes fast.

Nureyev’s eyes continued along, taking in the electric blue lighting fixtures making them look like they were all underwater, sleek leather furnishings, glinting gold and jewels on necks and fingers and wrists. His fingers got that old itch in them but he stilled himself. After the prize was taken, perhaps, but certainly not a minute before.

But one thing unsettled him deeply about the whole situation. The one face he hadn’t seen. The one face he would know no matter what disguise or mask it wore, the one face he always looked for first. Juno Steel was nowhere his eyes could see.

Nureyev frowned. He knew Juno was supposed to be posing as an employee of the bar itself, Rita had worked hard forging them employment orders from the owners. He’d expected to see him behind the bar serving drinks and had gotten himself a little excited about flirting with him shamelessly. They’d had some fun experiences with that, playing around with their new personas when they were supposed to be strangers. Nureyev didn’t think that was breaking his golden rule either. He couldn’t imagine anyone not being attracted to Juno Steel.

But he wasn’t here and that was settling a heavy feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. Too many unknowns. Too many, all centred around a person he cared about. Recipe for panic sparking through his nerves and poor decisions being made.

He tried to catch Rita or Jet’s eyes, tried to calmly and subtly convey the extreme anxiety raging behind his easy, playful bar patron’s expression. But at that moment the lighting shifted, swimming and coalescing on that centre platform. There was an old fashioned mic stand there now, clearly a shift in the entertainment to welcome the actual start of the evening. Though some glitzed up aspiring starlet caterwauling their way through some old Earth classics was hardly what he needed right now, when his boyfriend was AWOL in the middle of a mission. He ignored the gathering interest around the platform and scanned the available exits, head full of potential scenarios with the seller being tipped off somehow, grabbing Juno while everyone else was occupied, leaving him bleeding in the alleyways outside the bar…

Nureyev was halfway out of his seat, drink forgotten in front of him when an artificially amplified voice echoed through the bar room and stopped him in his tracks. No introduction, no preamble,

Just a soft, shy voice buoyed by the sweet piano music, a voice he knew well.

“The night is bitter

The stars have lost their glitter…”

Nureyev whirled his attention to where the rest of the patrons were focused, on the individual in the long, sleek red dress standing behind the microphone, his outfit simple compared to the others on display but so striking for that.

“The winds grow colder

Suddenly you're older…”

Nureyev knew he was gaping at him but he didn’t care. His curls were spilling out over the nape of his neck and forehead, looking so soft under the blue lighting. He looked otherworldly, like something fae and unnatural, glitter dusted over his bare shoulders where it would catch the light just so, the material of the dress shifting and spilling when he swayed to the piano. And his voice.

“And all because of the man that got away.”

Since when did Juno Steel have a voice like that?

If Nureyev had been able to tear his eyes away, he would have seen Rita standing towards the back of the crowd, jaw on the floor, eyes wide, hand having gone limp so a thin stream of neon green wine was dribbling onto the carpet from the bottle she was holding. He would have seen Jet with an eyebrow raised bemusedly, tapping his foot under the table, attention then caught by a man walking in looking more nervous than anyone out for a good time had any right to.

But all he saw was Juno. He was clearly shy at first, voice soft and small, his movements a little stiff. But as the song continued and the reactions from the crowd were clearly appreciative, he began to sway his hips slightly, taking his hands away from holding onto the mic stand in a death grip, letting them float at his sides as he sang. And he started to smile, soft and soulful like his song, full of wry bitterness and loss and longing.

“Every trick of his you're on to

But, fools will be fools

And where's he gone to?”

And then suddenly his eye was on Nureyev, picking him out in the crowd, narrowing the space between them to nothing until they could have been alone in his room back on the ship, voices hushed, lips brushing. And Juno’s smile quirked slightly, enough pin Nureyev to the bar, his breath coming out in a long, quiet exhale. He would make his dear heart sing for him, once this was done.

“The road gets rougher

It's lonelier and tougher

With hope you burn up

Tomorrow he will turn up

There's just no letup the live-long night and day…”

Nureyev could have fallen to his knees in that moment, with how deep and sweet his voice became, drunk without a single sip of his drink. But then Juno’s eye caught his again and slid pointedly over to a table in the shadowier corners. Their mark and the seller. A thin brown envelope being passed under the table, barely visible.

Nureyev went scarlet. Not one of his more professional moments.

He refocused, taking his crystal glass in his hand and sauntering over, like he was just looking for a better view of the stage, an easy thing to feign now Juno’s hands were resting on his chest in a gentle pantomime of heartbreak that was so very distracting. The mark was just getting up, clearly eager to make a quick exit. It was amateurish in the extreme, a millionaire really should have some more self awareness.

It was the simplest thing. Bump into him, the drink cascading over them both. Apologetic pleasantries, outraged exclamations. Pat ineffectually with a nearby napkin. Slip the envelope from the inner pocket and replace with a blank to mimic the weight. Pretend to only just notice that you have just swilled one of the richest men on Saturn and bid a hasty, flustered exit. Child’s play, as smooth and silken as when he’d first mastered the maneuver at thirteen.

Nureyev allowed himself a self satisfied smile, once he was out of view. It was good to know that some things would never go to rust.

He headed back to the stage, stopping to gently tip the wine bottle in Rita’s hand the right way then claim it for himself, taking a seat directly in front of the stage before tipping it to his lips, eyes fixed on Juno, a self satisfied smirk on his lips.

“Ever since this world began

There is nothing sadder than

A one-man woman looking for

The man that got away

The man that got away.”

There were a lot of rules when it came to working jobs, false facing, slipping on alibis like a second skin.

But no one said you couldn’t have fun.

Later, much later, Juno’s voice was raw and breaking from a full night of singing and the noises Nureyev had been drawing from him for the last three hours.

Considering his work done for now and smiling smugly, Nureyev let him fall back against his bed, curling around him and pillowing his head on his broad chest. There was still glitter clinging to his skin that would likely end up on Nureyev and refuse to budge for days but he couldn’t make himself care about that right now.

“Oh my god…” Juno was still panting, chest heaving, heart hammering against Nureyev’s ear, “I mean...oh my god, Nureyev…”

Nureyev chuckled, pressing a kiss to the warm skin beneath his head, “I rather enjoyed it too, dear heart. And I did say you’d be fairly rewarded for your performance, didn’t I?”

“I thought you meant you were gonna buy me a drink or something,” Juno laughed breathlessly, hands coming up to stroke through Nureyev’s soft hair, sort out where it was matted at the back from their efforts, “Not that.”

“Well, I did say the reward would fit the quality of your performance...and that was pretty spectacular.”

He heard the blush in Juno’s voice rather than saw it, he was far too comfortable in his current position, “Ah...I mean, I was alright. Just something I used to do when I was younger.”

“Oh?” Nureyev’s interest was sparked but he hid that. Juno spoke about his past so infrequently, even with all of their lengthy conversations before they’d fallen back into bed with each other. It was clearly still a wound and Nureyev had no desire to poke it.

“Yeah,” Juno continued on, “My brother was always in the school productions, even though it was always kind of crappy and the sets were junk and most kids' parents wouldn’t even come, he still lit up when it came back around. And because it was better than sitting on the curb waiting for him for hours, I signed up too. He was the real talent, Ben could sing, dance, act...everything. I could carry enough of a tune to get shoved into some minor roles but...whenever I sang, even if it was just a few lines, he’d go crazy applauding for me and grinning a mile wide. Really, I was just doing it to see him smile. I knew it made him happy when I joined in.”

Nureyev smiled gently at that, hand reaching out to  entwine his fingers with Juno’s, “I’m sure he’d have loved to see you sing tonight.”

“Oh, Ben would have laughed his ass off seeing me up there trying to be all femme fatale,” Juno hummed, holding Nureyev’s hand just as tightly, “But...yeah. It was hard not to think of him while I was up there.”

“And...what would he have made of the man drinking wine and watching you all gooey eyed, hm?”

“That asshole?” Juno cuddled Nureyev closer with his free arm, “Nah...he’d have liked you. He’d have realised you’re good for me.”

Nureyev buried his face in the crook of Juno’s neck, feeling a burst of delight in his chest at that, at the idea that he was good for someone.

And that someone was good for him.

[aion-rsa]

The 20 Best Horror Movies on Netflix UK – Scary Films to Watch Right Now

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Netflix is an ever-changing, constantly growing treasure trove of hidden gems and secret delights (here’s everything new on Netflix UK this month). Sometimes, a teeny bit too secret though.

Who hasn’t sat down to watch a horror movie and found themselves scrolling endlessly, either not being able to find something they’re in the mood for, or not really knowing what half the titles are, or if they’re any good?

We’ve scoured the full current catalogue available to watch in the UK now and picked out the best scary movies. It’s a mix of classic and new, and a range of slashers, horror-coms, mumblegore, monster movies and more to hopefully scratch that itch with ease.

We’ll keep this updated as and when titles drop in and out of the service.

Hereditary (2018)

If you haven’t seen this slice of trauma, the feature debut of Ari Aster, you probably should. If you have seen it, you probably won’t want to again. Toni Collette stars as a woman whose controlling mother has just passed away setting of a series of horrible events. Aster says the film was partly inspired by his own sense of his family being cursed – this a movie absolutely drenched in grief and pain with astonishing performances all round. It’s tough going, but it’s a masterpiece. Read our review.

The Platform (2019)

This existential Spanish horror made a splash at the start of lockdown with it’s tale of prisoner trapped in an enormous vertical prison with a platform at it’s centre which delivers food to the inmate floor by floor starting at the top, so that each floor only gets what the floor above has left over. It’s political, allegorical, it’s clever and it’s very violent.

The Endless (2017)

Justin Benson and Aaron Moorhead’s gorgeous sci-fi horror stars the two as brother who escaped from a cult ten years ago and are drawn back in in search of answers when a strange videotape arrives. This is their third movie after Resolution and Spring and the two are only growing in strength as directors – The Endless is rammed with indelible imagery and deeply unsettling moments within a plot that is a joy to unpick.

What Keeps You Alive (2018)

Couple Jackie and Jules head to a remote woodland cabin to celebrate their first wedding anniversary but things go bad… Ok this sounds like the most generic slasher in the world but trust us it’s not. Twists hit early on (that we’d hate to spoil) and the tension ramps up fast in a very effective cat and mouse chase with a female bent. This comes from Colin Minihan who made Grave Encounters – this isn’t similar but both have a disorientating sense of place. Read our review.

Orphan (2009)

Released during the heyday of Dark Castle’s mid-budget horror splurge, Orphan is one of those genre films with an absolutely ludicrous (and therefore thoroughly enjoyable) twist, which we will not spoil for you. Peter Sarsgaard and Vera Farmiga star as a couple mourning the loss of their baby, who decided to adopt a little Russian girl called Esther from the local orphanage. Things quickly start to go very, very wrong as the pair start to suspect that wee Esther – who insists on dressing like a spooky doll – isn’t all she appears to be. Check out our review.

Insidious (2010)

The many sequels may have yielded diminishing returns but the first of this franchise, about a couple (Patrick Wilson and Rose Byrne) whose comatose son appeared to be trapped in another realm by a evil spirit, is a very effective chiller. Horror genius James Wan directs, and the first half of this movie at least is pretty much guaranteed to make you jump out of your skin.

Annihilation (2018)

An all star cast including Natalie Portman, Jennifer Jason Leigh and Tessa Thompson, plus the quality direction of Alex Garland wasn’t enough to secure this horror sci-fi based on Jeff Vandermeer’s novel a theatrical release in the UK. Nevermind, that just means you can watch it for free on Netflix. Portman joins a crew of women exploring the mysterious Area X where he husband ventured some time before and came back changed. It’s a weird, unfamiliar landscape of beautiful flora and terrifying fauna defying explanation until the strange, indelible finale (not sure what it means? Have a read of this explainer). And you can check out our review, too if you like.

Daybreakers (2009)

You’ll get a little bit of everything with this Spierig Brothers curio. It was the film that really got the directing team noticed and it’s not hard to see why. Set in a dystopian world where basically everyone has been turned into a vampire, one corporation thinks it’d be a bloody (sorry) good idea to track down all the surviving humans and…well, basically milk them. Ethan Hawke stars as a vampire haematologist who starts to think there might be another way for this story to go after he’s collared by a former vampire (Willem Dafoe), who can cure everyone. (Living) dead good. Check out our review.

The Bar (2017)

Slightly bonkers Spanish horror thriller which sees a bunch of strangers stuck in a busy Madrid cafe when snipers begin shooting anyone who tries to leave. Confusion and personality clashes abound in this economical single location chiller with a dark sense of human as the inhabitants slowly discover what’s going on, who’s responsible and try to work out if and how they will survive.

Read more

TV

Netflix UK: What’s New in April 2020?

By Kirsten Howard

TV

21 underappreciated films to watch on Netflix UK

By Paul Bradshaw and 2 others

The Cabin in the Woods (2012)

Drew Goddard and Joss Whedon’s love/hate letter to the horror genre felt like something of a game changer when it finally arrived (it was shelved for several years because of financial issue with original distributor MGM). Chris Hemsworth and Haley Bennett star in a double layer story about ordinary kids vacationing in a woodland cabin, with Bradley Whitford and Richard Jenkins as very particular kinds of bureaucrats up to something in the background. No spoilers, just watch. Here’s our review.

Cargo (2017)

Martin Freeman stars in this Netflix original developed from a short directed by Ben Howling and Yolanda Ramke. Set in the Australian outback, Freeman is a father trying to find someone to protect his child in the middle of a zombie apocalypse. More wistful and emotional than that sounds on paper, there’s a fascinating subplot about an Aboriginal girl mourning her father and the final set piece is unforgettable. Check out our review.

Lifeforce (1985)

A Cannon Films classic directed by late Texas Chain Saw legend Tobe Hooper, people are still discovering the ’80s madness that is Lifeforce. Originally entitled Space Vampires, it’s exactly what you’d expect, and so much more. Nude, energy sucking bat creatures are brought back to Earth after an interstellar mission finds a gaggle of them lying dormant in Halley’s Comet, and it all goes very badly for the planet. You can expect a scenery-chewing Patrick Stewart to pop up in between the tits and gore. Not literally! Although, sometimes literally.

Creep (2014)

No, not the one set on the tube, this ‘mumblegore’ horror is far weirder than that. Director Patrice Brice plays Aaron, a videographer hired by Mark Duplass’s Josef to make a video for his kid to watch after he’s died of a terminal illness. Or does he? Playing on the power of politeness and the awkwardness of male relationships this is a highly original, itchily uncomfortable watch. Creep 2 is also on Netflix, and also good!

Read more

TV

17 of the best TV series on Netflix UK

By Louisa Mellor

TV

Underappreciated comedy movies on Netflix UK to watch now

By Mark Harrison and 1 other

Hush (2016)

Another smart sensory-based horror, this time from Oculus and Doctor Sleep man Mike Flanagan. This home invasioner sees deaf writer Maddie (Kate Siegel) attacked in her woodland retreat by a masked stranger. He uses her inability to hear to sneak around and terrorise her, but she has tricks of her own up her sleeve. Check out our review.

The Invitation (2015)

Karyn Kusama (Jennifer’s Body, Destroyer) just keeps knocking it out of the park (and she’s recently been attached to a Dracula movie from Blumhouse Productions), and with The Invitation she continued to secure her place as one of the best directors around. Here, Will (Logan Marshall-Green) and his girlfriend go to a party held by his formerly suicidal ex-wife, and discover that she seems to be happier than she ever was, but Will starts to suspect that rather than healthily coping with her mental illness, she may well have joined a doomsday cult instead, and be planning to kill them all. Paranoia and tension are at the max in this bad boy. Here’s our review.

Little Evil (2017)

Comedy horror from Eli Craig who made the wonderful Tucker and Dale Vs Evil. This time he’s playing on creepy kid tropes, particular those from The Omen movies. Adam Scott plays a man who discovers his new wife’s (Evangeline Lilly) son might actually be the anti-christ. And because it’s Eli Craig, of course it’s funny and very good natured as well as playing with the genre.

Gerald’s Game (2017)

Another Mike Flanagan offering here – what can we say? he’s damn good! – as Jessie (a spectacular Carla Guigino) and her husband Gerald drive to a remote house to try and spice up their marriage with a bit of gentle BDSM. One problem: Jessie is not into it. At all. Two problems: Gerald carks it, leaving her tied up with only her cunning to help her free herself from her prone, handcuffed predicament. Three problems: a mythical, supernatural killer may be in the house. Stephen King, you’ve done it again. Read our review.

Ravenous (2017)

Unusual Canadian zombie movie (in French) which sees remaining stragglers after an outbreak of the infected band together in disparate groups travelling to find other survivors. Ravenous sets up its infected as worshipping a sort of new religion of found items (chairs, TVs etc.) making comment on the zombification of society. It’s also funny and quite scary, so there’s that.

Veronica (2017)

Loosely based on a true story, Veronica is set in Madrid in 1991 and follows a young woman who messes with a Ouija board who thinks she’s accidentally summoned an evil spirit. Director by Paco Plaza, one of the two directors behind [REC], the movie gained minor notoriety when it first landed on Netflix because of a few viewers finding it overly scary. It’s true there are some seriously creepy bits (but you’ll be fine!).

The Perfection (2018)

Get Out‘s Allison Williams and Dear White People‘s Logan Browning star in this twisty, trashy but nonetheless enjoyable tale of two musical prodigies hothoused at a mysterious academy. It’s lurid and lavish (and it’s got some fairly dodgy sexual politics, we’d warn you) but great lead performances and a tricksy three act structure that keeps you guessing, make this an entertaining and unusual Friday night pick. Read our review.

Want more horror? Here’s our list of 81 genuinely creepy horror movies. Here are some horror movies it’s safe to watch with your kids. And here are some underappreciated Scream-inspired horror movies of the 90s.

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[gibmb]

Remnants of light ch 2 Embers in the dark

Continuing deeper into the cave Ruby had a deep unsettling feeling as though she was surrounded. The torch provided very little in terms of light making Ruby have to feel around at  all times, the whispering and screams returned in force causing Ruby to shutter at the unnatural human voices before steeling herself and continuing deeper into the cave. Whatever this mountain hid within its depths kept the Grimm away and weakened Ozpin, that kept Ruby going, because if it could do that, maybe it could work on Salem, even if all Ruby had to go on were the small things Ozpin or Ironwood told her. If whatever this mountain hid could have that effect, just maybe it could finally put an end to the Grimm. Ruby took a deep breath as she continued on for sometime. She would step on things she couldn't see, but the crunch they made made her happy she couldn't. She went deeper and deeper until finally, Ruby could see light. At the end of the tunnel.

A hall lit up by torches lined on each side of the walls and within the walls themselves were stone coffins, one above another and each one designed with a feminine figure draped in a cloth, faceless, leading to the end of the hall. The space was filled with pots of all sizes, all decorated with strange creatures the likes of which Ruby had never seen, what looked like personal mementos were left on each coffin, some looking like they were made centuries ago. Oddly enough Ruby noticed how clean this crypt was, not a single cobweb in sight, each pot carefully looked after and each coffin well preserved. Ruby continued onward reaching the end of the hall. The next and only room curved into a circle, torches give light to the chamber and at its center was what appeared to be a broken and melted statue with offerings of treasure and food. This place was a shrine, a place of worship that must have been used for countless generations.

 The base of it was cracked and it resembled the same design as the stone coffins, but was made with a reflective black material. Most of the statue was melted, smoke emanated from what was left and the offerings were drenched in the molten material. Ruby knew this had just happened not long ago, but what worried her was the hole in the wall at the other side of the shrine. She could hear something, unnatural clicking, as she followed the sound around the melted statue she saw a hole big enough to fit through. On the other side of the hole was a staircase with a silhouette of something going down them, disappearing into the darkness. Its clicking noise was like a call to follow and against Ruby's better judgement she pressed onto the staircase, avoiding the melted sides. This was clearly done by a maiden's fire, one she knew all too well, she steeled herself and began to travel down the steps seeing shadows. At times these shadows resembled people in armor and at times the shadows looked like creatures she had never seen, but some that she looked at looked right back at her causing her to pick up her pace down the steps until light and voices began to emanate from the bottom of the stairs. 

Ruby encounters a detailed black stone doorway with markings she couldn't understand carved into it, but what she could understand were the voices she heard on the other side of the doorway. She steps through the doorway and is taken aback by the sight. Ruby finds herself standing on a large stone platform high above a massive black pyramid inside of an even larger cavern with platforms and other ledges lining the walls all the way down, the massive pyramid thums with the same unnatural energy that has been washing over Ruby throughout her whole trek through the cave. The whispers and screams became dead silent, and the shadows were gone, though her shock was cut short by the shouting that came from the lower part of the cavern.

"This is a waste of time! We've been at this stupid thing for a week!" Spoke a male voice followed by a groan from a female. Ruby moved herself into a position where she could watch them without being noticed. She could see three people, people she knew from several battles, each one ending with one side always retreating. Ruby recalls the friends taken from her and the lives that Emerald, Mercury, and their leader Cinder have destroyed. Cinder was fuming with anger and looked as though she was at her wits end.

“I know that Mercury, but Salem wants this dealt with. Either we destroy it or bring it under our control.” She growled, throwing a fireball at the pyramid only for the fireball to disappear into smoke before even coming close to the structure. Cinder cursed in deep frustration while Emerald walked over to her side, she looked at the pyramid frowning deeply, the unsettling shivering feeling running down her spine. She could feel the same unnatural power that was trying to drown them as well.

“Maybe we could see if Watts could help us, he'd probably love to study this wretched thing.” Emerald glared deeply at the pyramid, she looked around at some of the shadows around them noticing that some were looking back at them. “What even are these things, ghosts?" Emerald  heard Mercury huff and laugh, she glared at him, “What's so funny!?” Mercury gave her a mocking grin. 

“Oh I don't know. We were sent here a week ago with some of the most horrific Grimm we've ever seen, supposedly fearless creatures, but the moment we reached the outside of this thing’s barrier they all cowered and refused to enter no matter how much they were ordered to. Only two followed us and the others ran away!" He shrugged shaking his head, “Then there's the massive unholy object buried under the mountain…” thumbs at the pyramid, “...that has every instinct in our bodies screaming to run away and never come back. The thing looks older than this world and is unaffected by our attacks, but NOOO! You're scared and unsettled by those!?” He waves an arm in the direction of a shadow that has its gaze on them, “Which only seems to whisper, scream or stare. Not attack, not possess us and make us kill each other, just whispers,screams and stares. THAT’S what you're worried about!?”  He was about to continue, but the glare Cinder gave him shut him up. Her glare turned into an annoyed sigh as she rubbed her temple. 

“It doesn't matter, we've wasted too much time on this and Salem is growing impatient. Ozpin could be sending one of his pawns to see if this things effects can be replicated, and if Ironwood or any of his pawns do figure that out who do you think she will punish for that?” Cinder asked looking at them, witnessing their unease, “Exactly, Emerald get in contact with Watts, hopefully he can deal with it.” Emerald nodded and walked off to contact Watt's, “Until then we will stand guard here until he and anyone who comes with arrive. If we’re lucky maybe who ever Ozpin sends to see this horrid thing can provide us with a bit of entertainment while we’re here. Maybe we can draw out their death long enough for Watts to bear witness.” With that, Ruby had heard enough. She was turning to leave, but as she turned around she saw a shadow there, but unlike the others it was solid its form fully revealed, its boney body shaking uncontrollably as it looked at her clicking before letting out a screech so horrific it caused Ruby to flinch. Just as she did it charged at her causing Ruby's eyes to widen and take aim with Crescent Rose before firing at the shadow, its head blowing apart and its body turning to a green fire and ashes. Ruby took a breath to calm down, but her relief was short lived as she realized what she had just done followed by Cinders laugh, “It seems our entertainment has already arrived.”

[carriagelamp]

Book Review - Summer Summary 2020

I didn’t get around to doing an individual post for the books I read in June/July/August, so I decided to choose a dozen that I read over the summer... I’d separate the wheat from the chaff for you so to speak. Though like you’re about to find out, that doesn’t necessarily mean they were all good by any means...

Crave

My girlfriend got this for me to “tide me over until Midnight Sun”. Between you and me, I think she was taking the piss. Anyway, Crave is very... standard fare paranormal YA school romance with the added flare of being written by an adult erotica writer, meaning the rhythm and tone of this novel is fucking bonkers. If you want to read the novel without reading the novel, just take Twilight and the entire Vampire Academy series, shove them in a blend, and force down the sludge you get from that. Normal Average Girl Goes To Secret School In Alaska For Vampire, Werewolves and Dragons. That’s this book. It is so big and so so so bad. I finished it out of spite, please don’t do that to yourself. Unless you are really craving (hurr hurr) some top tier trashy paranormal romance, in which case... no judgment.

The Last Firehawk

The Last Firehawk is a Scholastic “Branches” series, written for beginning readers (grade 1-3ish, depending on the child’s reading level). It has short stories, big text, and awesome pictures on every page. Guys. I unironically am adoring this series. It’s simple and is introducing children to a number of classic elements in the fantasy quest genre, but it is so charming. Friends Tag and Skyla discover a firehawk egg, and species that is supposed to have disappeared long ago. When Blaze hatches from it, the three are tasked with going out and finding the magical ember stone which was hidden long ago by the firehawks and which could be used to defeat the evil vulture Thorn and his dark magic... I read the first two books to second graders who ate it up and read the next four books because I personally wanted to continue the series. If you have young readers in your life (or just want a fun kid adventure) then please try these they’re the literary equivalent of nibbling on a chocolate chip cookie.

Lupin III: World’s Most Wanted #3

All the kind people that still follow my tumblr and haven’t tried to murder me because of my Lupin obsession are not going to be surprised by this one. I finally read one of the manga for this series and honestly I’m delighted. Somehow even hornier than the show, but hilariously funny. I felt like I was reading a more adult version of Spy Vs Spy. It’s a bunch of short, individual bits/adventures with lots of visual gags and an artstyle that is really different and delightful.

River of Teeth / Taste of Marrow (American Hippo series)

I’ve talked about River of Teeth before, but I finally finished the American Hippo duology and need to sing its praise. This is an alternate history series composed of two novellas that explore the question What would have happened if the States had decided to import hippos as livestock...? Anyways, my pitch for you: queer hippo cowboys. That’s all it took for me to read it. You have a gay gunslinger who loves his hippo to death, a nonbinary explosives-expert / poisoner who is the main love interest, a fat con artist who spoils her hippo and is the only voice of reason in this entire series, and a latina mother-to-be who is the scariest assassin in the entire series and is obviously scheming. The four of them are brought together on a job to deal with the Mississippi’s feral hippo problem.

IT’S A QUEER HIPPO COWBOY HEIST NOVEL GUYS I DON’T KNOW WHY I’M STILL TALKING AND YOU HAVEN’T JUST GONE TO READ THIS YET.

Petals to the Metal (The Adventure Zone series)

The graphic novel adaptation to the McElroy family’s DND podcast The Adventure Zone. Most of you are probably aware of this? It’s a great adaptation, it hits all the important beats, shows off the characters really well, and still gets lots of good gags in even while condensing entire arcs into single book stories. This one is probably my favourite so far just because Petals to the Metal was one of my favourite arcs in the show... but you can also see how the art has improved and the chaos of the race is fun to see drawn out.

If you like The Adventure Zone but haven’t tried the graphic novels yet -- would recommend! If you’ve always wanted to listen to The Adventure Zone but don’t have time for such a long series or struggle to focus on podcasts then pick up the first book of this series (Here There Be Gerblins) and try reading it! It really is an enjoyable adaptation.

Pony to the Rescue (Pony Pals series)

I continued my April/May theme of reading old-school chapter book series to combat Covid Brain Fry, so I picked up a few Pony Pals books. I read these as a kid and always enjoy them -- there’s just something so appealing to a child about having a horse. It gives your child characters a level of independence and ability to explore that you wouldn’t get otherwise. These books definitely read young, but they were nostalgic to revisit.

Small Spaces

A really cool middle grade horror novel I picked up. Maybe it’s because I live around a lot of corn fields, but farm/scarecrow themed horror absolutely does it for me. One evening, after seeing a woman try to destroy a strange, old book, eleven year old Ollie doesn’t stop to think, instead stealing the book and running. That’s how she becomes wrapped up in the strange, sinister story of a cursed family and creature called the Smiling Man that seems to live out in the foggy fields. While unsettling, Ollie tries to remind herself that it’s just a story... but this becomes more challenging when her school bus breaks down one day out their own set of fields, and a fog is rolling in...

“Avoid large spaces. Stick to small.”

Snot Girl #1 - #2

A Canadian graphic novel series by the creator of the Scott Pilgrim series! I love his work so I decided to give Snotgirl a try, even though it’s not generally my genre. I’m glad I did! First book took a while for me to get into, but by the time I hit the second I was really wrapped up in the mystery and character development. Snotgirl is about Lottie, a self-consumed fashion blogger whose biggest struggles are dealing with her allergies, frustration with her fellow-blogger friends, and how entirely her self-esteem is tied to her “beauty” and how people view her. But everything shifts in strange and horrifying ways when Lottie starts taking a new allergy medication, meets a new friend... and then witnesses that girl’s death. Or does she?

Seriously, or does she? I have no idea, I need to read the third book. This book is full of intrigue, complicated relationships, murder (or not?), and a healthy dose of magical realism to keep you guessing. If you like slice-of-life, crime, and abstract reality then this series is world a try. Plus the art is gorgeous.

Summer Wars #1 - #2

I recently rewatched Summer Wars (still one of my favourite movies) and decided to read the two-book manga adaptation. It was a really neat little adaptation. The creator of the movie gave the writer free range to tweak things to fit better in a manga format, which means some movie elements were allowed to fade into the background, whereas other aspects were fulled into the forefront and fleshed out to a greater degree. It was very cool, it kept the same story but gave you new things to think about which I wasn’t expecting. Reading this as a stand alone works just fine, but honestly if you’ve never watched the movie Summer Wars you should give it a try! It’s a great mix of slice-of-life, sprawling family dynamics that I relate to a little too well, cyber adventures, and fantasy. Super feel good.

This One Summer

Okay, last graphic novel, I swear. This One Summer was... weird and intense. It’s a coming-of-age Canadian graphic novel that follows a pair of pre-teens who meet up like they do every year at their family’s summer cottages. You see them both in the awkward phases between childhood and growing up to become teenagers, as they’re confronted with things like maturity, friendship, self-esteem, family problems, and sexuality. A beautiful read, but probably the heaviest out of all the books on my list.

Wild Thornberrys Novelization

I rewatched The Wild Thornberrys movie with my girlfriend earlier this year, and decided I wanted to hunt down the chapter book novelization because I’m kind of a sucker for novelizations. Honestly, this was about what you would expect from the era. 90s/00s novelizations, especially young novelizations, are generally just a transcript of the movie without much thought or effort put into them to make them anything but. That’s what this was. It was fine, and it really let me revisualize the entire movie, but honestly you’re probably better off just rewatching the movie unless you also really deeply love The Wild Thornberrys.

The Willoughbys

I saw that Netflix had done a funky looking adaptation of The Willoughbys and I decided I needed to read the book first before watching the movie. This was a little bizarre, I’m still not sure how I feel about it. Over all, I think it was a net-positive experience. It’s an obvious satire on classic children’s novels, especially the likes of Mary Poppins (real Mary Poppins, not the Disney version) and while a little heavy-handed, it does a Series of Unfortunate Events vibe that redeems it. The story is about a group of horrible children (The Ruthless Willoughbys) who decide they are sick of their parents and would rather become Worth Orphans... and to do that, they’re going to have to dispose of their inconvenient parents, obviously. Conveniently their parents are also sick of having children and decide to do away with them as well. The Willoughbys sets up three (or four?) different subplots that are gradually woven together through a series of schemes and exploits. It’s definitely more ruthless (hurr hurr) than the Netflix version, which tried to make the children more sympathetic, and in some ways I think that’s a definite point in the novel’s favour. I’m not sure I would go out of my way to recommend it, but it was a fun romp if you want something short and off the wall (and a lot more fleshed out than the Netflix version).