#there was not a single scene in which I did not 👀

[waynes-multiverse]

Polaris – Chapter 3

Series Summary: When Beau Arlen moved to Montana, he left behind a past he wasn’t proud of. But when a series of murders requires the FBI’s help, Sheriff Arlen‘s ghosts come back to haunt him one by one. With a wrong turn waiting at every crossroads, it’s hard to make the right choices and find his way back home – back to you.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x FBI Agent!Reader

Warnings: 18+, angst, a muder case, funerals, drinking, hurt, fluff, smut

Word Count: 7.3k

A/N: This week we have heavy relationship stuff, Cassie/Jenny shenanigans, and a full dive into our murder mystery 🤓 Or did you forget about the serial killer on the loose? 👀

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Chapter 3: Pour The Whiskey

The sky was vanilla when the sun finally set behind the Montana mountains, the first stars appearing above and announcing the night. You pushed the driver’s door of your SUV shut and trudged back to the motel for a change of clothes before meeting up with Jenny, Cassie, and Beau for drinks. 

You’d been apprehensive about spending the evening with him but knew you couldn’t exclude him. Not forever, at least. It was his home, his friends. You were just a guest here, and you didn’t mind him coming as long as you had the two women as a buffer. You would just have to ignore the stinging in your heart all night. Easy. 

Mindless and tired, you unlocked the door before your heels hit something rustling on the shabby doormat. As you glanced down, you found a brown envelope with your name in bold, black letters on it. Your stomach churned. You knew what it was and what you’d find inside. 

There had been another victim. 

Beau’s heart thumped in his ribcage as he entered the bar. It was a full Friday night, most of Helena ringing in the weekend at the Boot Heel as he looked around the crowd for you and his friends. He hoped Jenny was right, and he could use the evening as an opportunity to talk to you and explain everything – right a few wrongs.

As he spied the three of you at a table in a corner booth, he frowned at the laptop propped open in the middle between all of you. He didn’t expect you to bring work to drinks tonight, but on second thought, he should’ve guessed as much. Relaxing had never been high on your list when you were on the job.

“Guys, c’mon, really? What is this?” Beau asked with a teasing smile. His brow scrunched, however, as he gestured at the computer. “I thought we’re here to have fun.”

“There’s been another victim,” Jenny said without missing a beat and shot him a look that told him to rein in the humor.

Beau’s mouth opened in surprise and then closed for a lack of words, exhaling a breath through his freckled nose. He for sure hadn’t expected that answer.

“We figured you might care since you’re the sheriff and all,” you deadpanned without lifting a single eye at him, which earned you a small glare from him as he sat down next to you.

Jenny and Cassie had cleverly taken seats next to each other, so you were left to sit next to Beau. And thereby went your plan to use them as a buffer tonight. So much for female support. His friends, you reminded yourself.

Fortunately, a new murder victim was also a good excuse to be distracted and not deal with your love life.

“Why didn’t you guys call me there was a new body? Shouldn’t we, you know, go to the crime scene?” Beau looked at you three confused.

“There’s no body yet,” Cassie replied.

His brow creased even more. “Then how do you know there’s been another victim?”

You turned the laptop toward him as a video flickered across the screen. Leaning closer, he squinted his eyes at the content before glancing at you. His brow quirked in confusion. “What am I looking at here? What’s this?”

“The killer always sends video material of the victim’s last forty-eight hours,” you explained.

“We’ve never gotten a video before,” Beau said and looked at Jenny for confirmation, who shook her head.

“Because the killer has been sending them to the FBI. First to the field office in Houston and then to me specifically,” you informed him.

Beau’s look darkened, his features hardening, except for a twitch of his nostril. You could guess what he was thinking as he read between the lines of your words. “What do you mean 'you specifically'? Where was this sent to? The station?”

You exhaled a weary breath. “When the case got assigned to me, the envelopes started getting directly addressed to me and delivered to my desk at the office. This one was delivered by my doorstep at the motel.”

“I’m sorry, what?!” Beau’s green eyes widened, his entire body flooding with worry. “Y/N–”

“It’s not unusual,” you interjected quickly. “Our profiler thinks we’re dealing with a narcissistic psychopath. They’re sensation seekers and exhibit a need for control. Communicating directly with me is our subject’s way of controlling the narrative,” you explained but could tell your answer didn’t soothe him in the slightest.

“That’s not the point I was tryna make,” he grunted. “You can’t stay at that motel.”

“I know,” you agreed. “Cassie already offered me her guest room.”

“Yeah, and I’m an empty nester with plenty of space, too,” Jenny added and swiftly turned to her beer upon Beau’s frustrated look.

“Oh… Great, so plenty of options,” Beau grumbled but caught himself quickly, recovering with a tight smile. “Good…”

There went his plan to ask you to stay with him. He had by far the smallest place, but his hope was that you wouldn’t have needed more than a bed. Preferably his. And although he trusted Jenny and Cassie, it still bothered him that he couldn’t keep an eye on you himself. It wasn’t like he’d even insist on sharing a bed with you. He’d take the couch or even a goddamn patio chair outside as long as he knew that you were safe.

“Do I need to worry about you being a target?” Beau’s eyes found yours and held your gaze. You could’ve sworn you heard his heart beating faster in his chest.

“No, I don’t think so,” you replied and tried to sound as reassuring as possible. It didn’t work, however.

His brow raised as he retorted sarcastically, “Oh, you don’t think so. Well, that’s comforting.” He scoffed, shaking his head.

You sighed. “Look, the murder victims are all females in different age ranges. What they have in common, though, is that they are all married to a spouse who stepped out on them. The true targets were always the cheating husbands.”

“Why?” Beau’s brow furrowed. All he knew so far about the case was that three female bodies turned up dead at crossroads. He knew their names; he knew their families. Now, there was a fourth.

What he didn’t know was the who, what, how, or why. That was your area of expertise.

“The crossroads? It’s supposed to show that the women chose the wrong path. They stayed with their cheating partners,” you clarified. “On the other hand–”

“–their spouses get punished for getting their loved ones killed,” Beau finished. He rubbed his bearded chin, pointing at the laptop screen. “And what’s the theory with the videos?”

“They’re essentially held in an escape room. The women get locked in a bunker with a box of tools. If they find the right way out, they walk free. If not, their body is dumped at a crossroads after they’ve run out of oxygen. They’re basically buried alive,” you said.

“You ever found the bunker? Has anyone ever escaped?” Beau asked.

You shook your head and spoke quieter. “No, we’ve never found them. Based on the videos, we think there’s more than one location, especially since the subject has hit five states so far, including Montana. We assume the recordings’ purpose is to torture the husbands. A copy of it always gets sent to a partner, so they witness the suffering they’ve caused.” Letting out a sharp exhale, you continued, “And no, no one has ever escaped. We’re not sure if it’s even possible. It might just be a sadistic torture method as well.”

“Make ‘em believe they can get out when they really can’t,” Beau concluded grimly and chewed on his lower lip before flashing a cynical smile. “Well, ain’t that a fun one…”

“We think the killer is highly intelligent and organized,” Jenny said.

“Yeah, and they’re probably keeping tabs on us. They know we’re working the case,” you added and glanced around the patrons of the Boot Heel. The killer might even be in this bar with you. It wasn’t unlikely they followed you here from the motel. As inconspicuous as you tried to be, Beau still caught your little areal scan.

“That didn’t answer my question, though,” Beau then said and looked deeply into your eyes, his brow stern. “Do I need to be worried? ‘Cause I gotta tell you, I’m itchin’ to put protection detail on you.”

“Who, Poppernak?” you quipped, but Beau didn’t laugh. “And no, no need to worry. I don’t fit the victimology,” you told him with a poker face. It was the truth. What you left out, however, was that you’d always be a potential target, no matter what the victim’s profile said. You were on a killer’s radar. Hell, your whole job was to be in harm’s way.

Luckily, your phone buzzed on the table, saving you from more questions and drilling looks. Beau was smart and a good detective. You knew he could see right through you.

“Excuse me, it’s my DA in Houston. I have to get this,” you said and stood up from the table.

“Ugh, Ted…” Beau groaned and dramatically rolled his eyes back.

“You’re a child,” you scolded him. “What d’you have against Ted? He’s a good attorney.”

“He’s a douche, and he sucks,” Beau declared with a huff.

You sent him a glare. “You’re just saying that ‘cause we dated briefly.”

“Nope, already didn’t like that slimy coyote before that,” Beau maintained. “Neither did Randy, by the way.”

“Wow, okay…” You scoffed, tongue poking your cheek as you shook your head. “I’m gonna take this outside,” you said with a glower and then fled through the doors of the restaurant to the quiet street.

“Y/N, wait–” Beau tried to stop you, but you had already stormed out and couldn’t hear him anymore. The sheriff then pursed his lips and exhaled a deep sigh.

“Stepped in it again, huh?” Cassie threw him a sympathetic look.

Beau ran a palm over his freckled face, his lips in a tight line. “Big time.”

“Well, she’s got good taste,” Jenny remarked as she looked at her phone before holding it up for Cassie to see.

“Not bad,” Cassie agreed with a low whistle and smirked.

Beau caught a glimpse of the screen, seeing Ted’s stupid face looking right back at him, and scowled at the women. “Really? Well, thanks for the knife in my back. Who’s side are you two on, huh?”

“Aw, Beau, we’re just having fun.” Cassie chuckled in amusement.

“Yeah, well, he’s not that good-looking up close, by the way,” Beau retorted, trying to keep his jealousy at bay. “He just photographs well.”

“He’s cute when he’s jealous,” Jenny said to Cassie, who nodded in agreement.

Beau scoffed. “I’m not jealous.”

“Did Ted make it onto your punch list?” Cassie asked jokingly.

“Oh, you bet he did,” Beau replied with a huff.

“So… is he the new Avery now?” Jenny teased and arched a brow. The two women looked at him expectantly.

Beau narrowed his eyes at them. “I hate you both. I really do.”

“That’s a yes,” Jenny surmised, and both women broke into laughter on Beau’s dime.

But he was a good sport and could take a little teasing. Besides, he really did wish to punch Ted’s face. He knew the guy had held a torch for you for years.

“So, Y/N knew your old partner, too?” Cassie asked and hauled him back from his revenge fantasies.

“Yeah, kinda…”

Beau swallowed the shameful lump in his throat and licked his lips, bobbing his head. He probably had to tell them eventually. The truth would surely come out at some point.

His green eyes drifted to the glass of whiskey in front of Cassie. “You mind, uh–” He gestured at the drink but didn’t wait for a reply. He grabbed the glass and downed it in one go.

The girls shared a raised look.

The alcohol burned right through him and numbed the twinge in his heart. He cleared his throat but didn’t look at them, keeping his eyes trained on the glass in his hands as he spoke.

“Yeah, uh, she was his wife.”

His confession was followed by deafening silence, the loud music and chatter of the bar drowning out. Realization dawned on both women’s features as they let the words sink in.

Cassie was the first to speak, her eyebrows drawn together in confusion. “I don’t-… You never said anything about this during grief counseling.”

Beau nodded and smacked his lips, still avoiding to look at them. “Yeah, well, it’s not somethin’ I’m exactly proud of.”

“I get that,” Jenny said after a pause. “But Beau, we would’ve understood. We wouldn’t have judged you.”

“Yeah,” Cassie subscribed and reached out her hand, clasping his. “And we still don’t.”

“Thanks, but I judge myself plenty enough. Trust me,” Beau said somberly and flashed them a sad smile.

As you ambled back to the table, you took immediate note of what you could only classify as a strange vibe. Everyone’s faces looked austere and bleak. So, naturally, you tried to lighten the mood.

“What happened here?” You cocked a brow and tilted your head at the three with a chuckle. “You guys look like you’re at a funeral.”

Beau snorted humorlessly and set down the empty glass in his hand, rising from his seat. “I’m gonna need more of where this came from. ‘Scuse me,” he said and made a beeline for the bar.

Mouth ajar, you stared after him, wondering if you’d said something wrong.

August 2020

The door swung wide open and hit the wall with a loud bang that surely rattled the entire church as you burst into the small back room. Your jaw tightened when you finally found him, sitting on the cold tiles with a bottle of bourbon in his hands, leaning against the wall.

His green eyes looked up, red and glazed, and found yours. Your chest heaved with every surge of anger that rumbled through your body.

“What the hell?” you yelled. He flinched at the sound of your voice. The unshed tears in your eyes threatened to choke you, but you were too livid to let them free. “Where were you? Were you here this whole fucking time? Getting drunk? You were supposed to give the eulogy!”

Beau hung his head in his hands before dragging a palm over his face, the tears stinging his eyes. He looked like he hadn’t slept in over a week and drank a whole liquor store. His body was shaking, his voice trembling. “I-I couldn’t do it. I’m sorry…”

“You’re sorry?” You scoffed, shaking your head. “You were supposed to be there for me. You promised.” A few tears finally escaped and rolled down your cheeks. You wiped them away with your palm. “Guess I shoulda known your word isn’t worth a fucking dime.”

You stormed out of the room and slammed the door shut behind you.

That’s when Beau broke down, sobs wracking through his entire body. Your disappointment was the last straw for him. This was rock bottom. There was nothing lower than the frigid, unforgiving rocks he found himself falling on. The ones that cracked his skull, broke his bones, and shattered his heart. He had built this prison with his own two hands, rock by fucking rock.

Anger rose in his chest and threatened to tear him apart at the seams till his soul spilled out through the cracks. He couldn’t look at himself in the mirror anymore. He didn’t recognize the stranger staring back at him. Neither did his family. The only thing he was good at these days was letting people down.

The bottle in his shaking hands then flew across the room and smashed against the wall, shatters of glass and pools of liquor littering the floor.

He was a fucking mess, but he had to make it right. At least by you.

Your hand softly settled on his shoulder as you approached him by the bar counter. He was nursing a whiskey and avoided looking at you. You exhaled a deep breath before you spoke. “So, I’m guessing by the wide eyes, the long faces, and the general awkwardness that you told them about Randy,” you deduced.

His gaze landed on you at that. A light chuckle squeezed past his lips. “You’re good.”

You took a seat on a barstool next to him. “Oh, I know. If I wasn’t, I would’ve picked the wrong profession.”

He gave you a weak smile in return and licked his lips, returning to his drink.

“Look, uhm, if you wanna talk about it, we can talk about it, okay?” you offered, tapping your fingertips on the bar counter. “I know I’ve been mad at you. But I also know you’re struggling with… well, everything that is us, I guess. I mean, I’m still upset, but I don’t like seeing you like this. I never meant to hurt you.”

Beau nodded, and then a smile, a real and genuine one, formed on his lips. “You know, I’m supposed to actually say that to you.”

“Oh yeah? Which part?” You bit your bottom lip, hiding a small grin behind it.

“The, uhm, sorry-I-never-meant-to-hurt-you part,” he said, green eyes boring into yours as he looked up from his glass.

You gave him a one-sided twitch of your shoulder. You were not the vulnerable type, especially not in a public setting like a crowded bar with a guy who hurt you once before. You wanted to avoid any admission of feelings. Because if you did confess, it meant you felt them in the first place.

“It’s okay, Beau. You don’t have to apologize for how you’re feeling,” you said. Sweeping all your anger and pain under the rug of friendship was your safest option. The plan still remained: solve the case and get the hell out of dodge.

“Yeah, that’s just it. I really do,” Beau replied wryly and finished his drink. “Just gimme a chance to explain, alright? Just one. That’s all you gotta do. If afterwards you still wanna end it, I’ll let you go.”

Pensively, you bit down on your bottom lip and gazed into his eyes. Sincerity, longing, and hope shimmered in them, pulling you right back into that green sea. Although it was probably a mistake, you agreed.

You weren’t sure what it was exactly – whether it was the fact that Beau was your friend, your shared history together, or that he was your dead husband’s old partner. But you were willing to listen to what he had to say. You owed him at least as much.

“Okay,” you said.

When Beau took you to, in his words, “humble abode,” you had expected as much. He had been talking your ear off about his “dream home” for three years now, and a part of you was happy for him that he finally had realized it.

Another part, though, knew him too well and itched to make fun of him for it. You even wondered if bribery was on the table if you threatened to bring both Jenny and Cassie into the loop.

Beau stood with a proud grin next to you, gauging your reaction to his home. “So, what d’you say, huh?”

“I think Emily might have been right…” you mumbled into your jacket. At lunch, she called it a “tin can.”

“What?” The sheriff quirked a brow.

“Nothing,” you brushed it off and grinned. “So, who do you think you are, huh? Patrick Dempsey?”

Beau’s lips pursed a little in a caught kind of manner but still tried to overplay it with a shake of his head. “I don’t know whatcha talkin’ about…”

“Sure you do,” you teased and nudged his shoulder playfully with your elbow. Your grin widened; your eyebrows rose higher. “C’mon, Beau, it’s just me.”

“It’s a guilty pleasure, alright?” he barked as his façade broke. “I just want Meredith to be happy.”

You soothingly rubbed his back. “We all do, sweetie, we all do…” you sighed in understanding.

His head then snapped to you, green eyes wide. “Don’t you dare tell Cassie and Jenny about this! If they find out, I’ll never hear the end of this. Lord knows they’d make me watch more Gosling movies…”

“Yeah, that would be so funny,” you remarked, chuckling. Beau scowled at you warningly.

Taking a step closer to the trailer, you let his life in front of you sink in. You imagined how he’d sit in his patio chair with a bottle of beer in front of the fire pit on cool summer nights, how he’d grab his fishing rod that leaned by the door on his days off, and how he’d have movie nights with his friends on the screen and projector nestled in the back of his little porch.

This is what he left you for.

“You okay there?” Beau checked, noticing your vacant stare.

“I’m fine.” You forced a smile to your lips. “This is nice.”

Beau sighed a little. By now, he knew that your “fines” were never that. He also knew you’d never tell him what you were really thinking.

“Beer?” he offered, hoping you’d accept because God knows he needed one.

“Tequila?” came your reply. You’d need something stronger for this conversation.

“Even better,” Beau agreed and went to pour two shots, handing you one.

You downed it before he could even say “salud” and held out your glass for a refill. He raised his brow a little at you but obliged without question, hiding an amused smile. When the second one burned down your throat, you let out a jittery breath.

“I’ll take that beer now.”

“Well, thank God you’re not a lightweight.” Beau snorted as he handed you a bottle and uncapped it for you. “C’mon, just talk to me. What’s bothering you? I mean, I can take a guess, but I’d rather have you tell me.”

“Guess.” The sternness of your voice gave no room for jokes.

Beau scratched his beard, nodding his head. “Is this about Randy? Look, I’ve been going to grief counseling, okay? I’m working through it. I’m a lot better now.”

“Well, good for you,” you muttered wryly and took a sip of your beer. All you really wanted was another shot of tequila, but asking for more would probably worry him at this point.

“I just-… Maybe it’ll help you, too. I could go with you,” he suggested, his eyes flashing to your left hand. “You’re still wearing the ring.”

“And I’m always gonna wear it!” You frowned, your brow knitting in a deadly combination of anger and hurt. “So, what? You left me because I was still attached to my dead husband? Is that what you’re saying?”

“No, I–”

“You wanna do this? Fine, let’s do it,” you announced a little too belligerently as if you were entering a boxing ring, but you were all guns blazing at this point. You took another swig of beer before placing the bottle down on a table nearby. Luckily, the tequilas were finally kicking in.

“Y/N–”

“Nuh-uh, my turn,” you swiftly cut him off. You needed to get this off your chest before the alcohol-induced courage was leaving you again. You’d been waiting to say this for close to a year. You were tired of having this conversation only with your mirror image. “You think this is about Randy? It’s not! I never had a problem with that. You did. Yes, my husband died, and I lost something, but then I found you, okay? And I thought you felt the same way, but then you just fucking left without a warning.”

“I–”

“Still not done yet.” You held up a finger and paused for a beer break and a deep breath. Your lungs were burning for air before you dove back into the water. “I don’t know what’s there left to explain! You found out Carla was getting married and told me you were still in love with her, and then you just up and left and moved to fucking Montana! But then, you didn’t go back to her, did you now?”

“No, that’s what I’m tryna tell ya–”

But you didn’t let him finish. Another huff before you inhaled enough air for your next tirade. “You retired and then un-retired and went fucking trout fishing! And I don’t understand any of it!”

“What, the fishin’?” Beau quipped with an uncomfortable snicker and swallowed harshly upon your deathly glare that cut like a machete, feeling his head slip off his neck.

“What the fuck was all that for, then? Why did you fucking leave if you’re just… dwelling here? You left almost a year ago, and we haven’t spoken since. What’s changed? ‘Cause I can’t fucking see a difference.”

“Look, I tried callin’ ya. I texted. You never picked up,” he threw in and tried not to sound accusatory. Honestly, he understood why you didn’t. Against all odds, he had just always hoped you still would.

“Oh, I wonder why,” you huffed sarcastically before tears began to sting your eyes and blur your vision. But you powered through, refusing to start sobbing in front of him. “You know I was a broken mess when Randy died, and I really didn’t expect I’d ever feel like that again until you left… Do you even know what that means? C’mon, let’s be honest here. You left Texas ‘cause you couldn’t fucking bear the guilt of sleeping with your partner’s wife any longer. That’s the true fucking reason!”

Beau’s lips straightened into a thin line as he ground his jaw, hands resting on his belt. His head bobbed in thought, eyes drawn to his boots before he gazed up and saw you were finally out of breath. The tears that flowed down your cheeks broke his heart. Your words stung like knives.

“Can I say something now?”

“Go ahead,” you retorted rather challengingly and wiped your wet cheeks dry with your sleeves.

Beau sighed and finally drank his shot of tequila. He hissed slightly before finding your eyes. “Look, you’re right. Carla, everything else… it was an excuse, but not for the reasons you think.”

“Oh, gimme a break!” You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest.

“I didn’t wanna face the truth, okay? I felt guilty. Still do, actually,” he admitted and swallowed thickly. “And not ‘cause I slept with my partner’s wife, but because I fell in love with my partner’s wife.”

Your heart stopped beating for a moment as you looked at him. You always felt it, always wanted him to say it, but he never had until now.

“It always meant something to me. You were never a rebound after my divorce. You were never just a distraction from my grief. I never would’ve even kissed you if I hadn’t had feelings for you from the start,” he confessed and ran a hand over his face as the words rushed out. He tried to shove the unshed tears in his eyes back inside.

“And yeah, I’ll always love Carla. Just like I know you’ll always love Randy, but two things can be true at the same time. And the second one is that I’m so deeply and irrevocably in love with you that it scares the living hell outta me.” He gave a small shrug like his feelings couldn’t be helped. “But every time I felt this pull towards you, I kept wondering if I would’ve felt it if I’d never gotten divorced. If Randy never died… Would I have still fallen in love with you? And then the guilt set in, ‘cause the only answer I ever came up with was ‘yes.’”

“Beau…” You stood there petrified, not knowing what to do or say until you saw a tear fall down his cheek. It broke you to see him like this, see all the guilt and shame he carried in his heart for something neither of you could control.

“I’m sorry that I left and hurt you. I never meant for that to happen. I thought I was doing the right thing by lettin’ you go. I thought you deserved better. I never could give you everything you needed. Not then, at least,” he explained. “I tried to ignore my feelings and shove ‘em down. I didn’t know what else to do. I couldn’t deal with it anymore. He was my best friend and my partner. I mean, I was his best man at your guys’ wedding,” he said and let out a humorless chuckle, dragging a palm over his face. Then, his green eyes bored into yours, drowning in emotion. “But once you showed up here… I just couldn’t stay away anymore. I don’t wanna lose you again. I don’t wanna die without you ever knowing how I feel about you. I love you, and I’ve goddamn missed you, Y/N.”

In a heartbeat, you caught his lips, warm and soft and trembling against yours as you kissed him. His breathing quickened, his heart thrumming wildly against his ribcage, his mind filling with nothing but you. His hands were in your hair and on your waist, yours sliding from his cheeks to rest on his broad chest.

When you drew back breathlessly, you looked up into his eyes. “Look, uhm, I don’t have an answer for you. Maybe we would have found each other eventually, or we wouldn’t have,” you said and gave him a small smile. “I don’t think we’re ever gonna solve this one. I don’t think we even have to. So, maybe let’s not focus so much on the ‘what ifs’ and more on the ‘what nows.’”

Beau’s lips rose to a soft smile. “I can do that,” he said. “So, what now?”

“Now, I’ll tell you that I love you, and we’ll make out for a looong time like we’re trying to catch up for everything we missed out on when we were apart. And then we’ll figure out an excuse to tell Cassie and Jenny for me not coming home tonight,” you replied, smirking.

Beau chuckled. “Alright, sounds like a plan. Although I doubt you’re just gonna stick to the make-out. I mean, let’s be real here, we both know you can’t keep your hands to yourself,” he teased.

You gasped playfully and slapped his arm, making him laugh. “Careful now, Sheriff. You’re getting cocky. You better have some proof to back that one up.”

“Oh, I can deliver.” He smirked and dipped his head, claiming your lips.

Heat rose to your chest as his hands slid up your body. You parted your lips slightly, enough for his tongue to slip inside and taste you. His fingers dented the skin on your waist as your arms locked around his neck. His beard tickled your flushed cheeks as you breathed each other in.

“Damn you,” you sighed as you both came up for air.

Beau smiled before his soft lips pressed against yours once more. He lifted you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you inside.

September 2021

Your legs were slung around his waist, holding him tight as Beau carried you into the dainty Mexican motel room, cool and dry desert air hushing inside with your movements. He kicked the door shut with his boot, his lips roaming every inch of you they could reach. Your fingers tangled in his hair, occasionally eliciting a groan against your skin when you tugged too roughly.

His hands, his lips, his heart – no part of his body wanted to ever leave yours.

The first and only time his shaking hands let go of you completely since you two jumped out of the car in the motel parking lot was when he sat you down on the end of the squeaky bed, your feet hitting the stained and dusty carpet. He started unbuttoning his shirt; you strived off your shoes and tank top, flinging each item somewhere across the room before helping him with the remaining buttons.

Your lips touched his abdomen, kissed his warm skin, and felt him shivering underneath you as you trailed your way down his abs. Your fingers unbuckled his belt and opened his zipper, letting his jeans pool around his ankles.

You looked up and found his half-lidded eyes, checking if the next step of your endeavor was wanted. His green orbs were full of desire, a need for you that made you drip between your legs. His breathing quickened, a sharp inhale of air as your hand snuck down his boxers. His eyes closed. You smirked and kissed below his pubic bone, pulling the fabric down to join the rest of the discarded clothes on the filthy ground.

“You don’t have to,” he said with a thick swallow, his voice rasped and strained when his erection sprang against your parted lips.

“Oh, but I want to,” you replied cheekily and wrapped your hand around the base of his hard cock.

His large palm wantonly caressed your cheek, thumbing your bottom lip. You sucked his thumb first, teased with your tongue, and twisted your grip around his dick as you stroked him until a first hiss escaped his plump lips and he twitched in your palm. You let his thumb go with a pop and sent him a naughty smile. Your warm breath ghosted against his swollen tip before your tongue took a salty taste test and dipped into the slit. His head fell back between his shoulder blades with a groan.

“Let go,” you told him, your voice sultry and seductively low in the quiet of the room, only the neighbor’s TV drowning through the walls with a Spanish soap. You planted wet kisses on his length all the way down to the root as you spoke. “You can do whatever you want with me. I want you to…”

“Fuck, don’t tell me shit like that,” he growled with restraint.

You smirked. “Why? Does it turn you on?”

“You have no idea,” Beau replied and bit down on his lip, tugging it behind his teeth.

“I think I have some,” you said with a chuckle, noticing how his dick twitched at your words.

Your lips enveloped the head of his cock and then slid down his shaft, taking as much of him as you could fit until he nudged the back of your throat. He was long and thick, making your jaw ache as you sucked him down. He gathered your hair in his fist and guided your pace, a burn on your scalp that spurred you on.

His hips rocked to the bob of your head, taking him a little bit deeper each time. Hollowing your cheeks, you went nose-deep once your jaw adjusted to his girth, leaving his dick spit-wet before he pulled you off with a hiss.

“Shit,” he groaned between heavy breaths. “Not gonna last long if you keep this up,” he said with a coy smile, admiration gleaming in his eyes as he leaned down, hungrily kissing your red and glistening lips. “I wanna come inside you.”

With your heart beating in your throat, you couldn’t speak and just nodded, planting a firm kiss on his lips.

He unclasped your bra, and you flung it off your shoulders as he slipped out of his boots. You shrieked and giggled when he grabbed your thighs and threw you off your feet with one quick haul, your back and head hitting the mattress with a blissful sigh.

His body pressed on top of yours, heavy and large and perfectly sculpted, his mouth following a trail from below your neck to above the edge of your jeans. He shimmied the tight material down your ass and thighs, all the way down your smooth legs, your black cotton panties following shortly after till you were bare in front of him.

Green eyes traced the curves of your body. His Adam’s apple bobbed when they landed on your slick folds. He knelt between your spread legs and lowered his head to your pussy, nose, tongue, and lips traveling through your soaked slit.

His tongue circled your clit and poked into your tight channel till your breath caught in your throat. His lips sucked and tasted you till your heart pounded furiously in your chest. His teeth nibbled and teased till you were writhing underneath him.

One finger, then two, slipped inside and threatened to turn you inside out as they plunged in and out of you, knuckle-deep against your velvet walls. Your hips jerked upon his every touch, a firm hand holding you in place. Your fist gripped his hair as your thighs trembled, calves resting against his strong arms. The back of your head pressed harshly into the mattress as an unstoppable fire claimed your entire body.

Sweat gathered between your heaving boobs in a thin layer as an explosion hit you so violently it shook every muscle. With his fingers still inside of you as your pussy throbbed around them, he found your lips and stole your remaining oxygen for himself, leaving you breathless.

His wet fingers slipped out of your cunt, your aching emptiness waiting to be filled by his cock that rested heavy against your thighs. As he released your lips, his gaze locked with yours, fingers caressing your cheek like you were precious and breakable all at once.

“Do we need, uhm…”

“A condom?” you finished his dangling question with a smile. He let his head drop to your shoulder and nodded bashfully in the crook of your neck. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and kissed the top of his head. “I don’t know. Have you been with anyone since the divorce?”

“No,” he replied simply. But Beau wanted to say much more than that. He wanted to tell you that he had waited for you. That you’d been prevalent in his mind for months now. That he didn’t want anyone else. All he managed was a one word answer and a shake of his head, though.

“Me neither,” you said quietly. Your husband had died thirteen months ago. You’d grieved but never felt ready to move on, to erase him with some stranger you’d met on the internet or in a dingy bar – not that you ever could.

Until Beau kissed you, you’d never thought you’d be able to love again.

His face changed upon your answer, a hint of worry haunting his features. “You-, uhm, you sure you want me to-… ‘Cause we don’t have to do anything… or, uhm, more, you know? We can just leave it at that and forget about it.”

You cupped his cheeks in your palms and forced him to look you into your eyes. You smiled at him reassuringly. “Hey, I want you to. I want it to be you, okay? I want you inside me.”

He chocked down a thick swallow upon your words, his cock needily throbbing between your legs. With a nod, he gripped his length and guided his tip to your soaking entrance, coating his dick in your arousal before gliding inside. Inch by inch he stretched you, sinking deeper and deeper till he filled you whole. Your lips parted when his forehead rested on yours as he relished in the feeling of you.

Neither of you had been with anyone since your respective spouses, a new feeling overwhelming both of you. Your breaths mingled before he claimed your lips, his hands roaming your sides as you stilled for a moment.

“Fuck, you feel so good, Y/N,” he groaned against the shell of your ear, nibbling down your jawline. “Always wanted this, even though ‘m gonna burn in hell for sayin’ it.”

“You feel good, too. But fuck… Beau, please,” you begged, arching your back to raise your hips and meet his, encouraging him to move. It didn’t take much for him to oblige.

His hips rolled slowly at first, each thrust becoming more forceful than the one that came before. His lips caressed your pebbled nipples, hands groping your tits as he explored every curve of your body.

Sinful mouth and gluttonous hands didn’t leave a single spot of your skin untouched, your flesh turning into unholy ground in his wake. He wanted you to be his, claim every bit of you in hopes of breaking a sacrilegious vow. His pumps were biblical, a great flood that buried you underneath him. Your cries of prayer were devout.

Neither of you spoke a word, your sole focus on each other as passion overtook you both, too busy with impatient kisses on mingling body parts. The silence in the room was filled with ragged moans, salacious sounds, and the occasional squeak of the old mattress.

His fingertips bruised your flesh, your heels digging into his lower back as he bottomed out. His fingers then interlaced with yours above your head till your grips were knuckle-white. You squeezed his cock, your pussy swallowing him whole.

Your cunt clenched and gripped him tightly as you came undone, your second climax washing over you with a slip of his name. Your whole body trembled in ecstasy, your nails digging into his back and your toes curling so much they came close to a cramp.

Beau let go after a few more pumps and grunted, spilling a full load of cum into you as his hips came to a jerky standstill. His head dropped to your shoulder as he caught his breath, sweaty skin meeting heaving chest.

Gently, you stroked his back and carded his damp hair with your fingertips, massaging his scalp as he softly groaned into the crook of your neck. Your heartbeat slowed to its regular rhythm. Your breathing calmed like the waves after a great storm. His head lifted off your shoulder. His eyes fixed on you. A smile twitched on the corners of his lips.

“So… that happened,” Beau said almost to an awkward degree. It made you snort a laugh.

“Technically, it’s still happening,” you noted with an amused smile and squeezed his softening cock inside of you.

“Oh, uh, right,” he muttered with a clear of his throat, his cheeks adorably blushing. He tried to slip out, but you stopped him, fastening your legs around his waist till he relaxed again.

“No, it’s alright. This is actually my favorite part,” you confessed and watched the smile on his freckled face widen.

“Yeah, mine too.” His knuckles caressed your cheek, his fingers tucking back some strands of your hair. “Was that okay? Do you, you know, feel good? Any, uhm, regrets?”

“No, I’m good. You were amazing,” you assured him with a tender smile and saw the relief wash over his features.

Beau tried to choke down the guilt and betrayal that bubbled deep in his chest. Truth was, he wanted to be selfish for once. He wanted you, and he wished you could feel the warmth that spread through his heart whenever he looked at you.

“Are you okay?” you checked when you noticed a glaze in his green eyes. At first glance, you assumed it was sadness, your heart weighing heavy in your ribcage before the crinkles of happiness around his eyes betrayed that theory.

“Yeah, I am, darlin’. For the first time in a long time, actually,” he said and kissed you long and deep.

Chapter 4: Rewind – MAY 22

All's well that ends well. Now it's just all lovely bliss till the end, innit? 🤣

Next week we have a bunch of awkward (maybe scandalous even?) flashbacks to dive in... 👀

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Everthing Beau Arlen: @snowayumi

[yumeka-sxf]

In addition to Yor's epiphany scene, this scene was the other one I was most looking forward to in season 2 - a scene that, in my opinion, is one of the most Twiyor-ish scenes in the series so far 💖

Why is it so significant? Because there was no reason for Twilight to put on any Loid Forger acting in that moment. He wasn't conversing with nor being scrutinized by anyone. So why would he give that soft smile followed by such affectionate, comforting words as "お疲れ様/otsukaresama"? (this can be translated in many ways, but generally it's something you say to thank someone for their hard work).

The answer is because it's something he truly felt...he understood the sacrifice Yor made for Anya's happiness and genuinely appreciated it (if only he knew the sacrifice she made on the larger scale, lol). While he's a bit perturbed at first since some onlookers were snickering at him, it didn't take long for him to soften and then graciously carry his queen and princess the girls back to the ship 😭

But Twilight overall was really soft in this episode and I loved it~ From his blush upon seeing Yor to the several times he gave that same soft smile when talking with/looking at her...I think Anya was right when she called him out on the ship about missing his wife 😅

I liked how the anime conveyed his shock when noticing her bruised face...what must have been his thought at that moment? 👀

The scenes of the family activities translated better in animated form in my opinion. While they were each only a single panel in the manga, they lasted a few seconds each in the anime, plus the addition of the insert song helped the with the comfy, wholesome vibe~ Also the part where Yor inadvertently chucks Anya across the ocean is still hilarious.

Loid's dorky skip at the beginning of the episode translated very well in animated form too 😅

The ending of this chapter in the manga always felt a bit rushed to me...it quickly jumps from the aforementioned scene of them returning to the ship, to suddenly being home, reuniting with Bond and Franky, having a meal together, then Twilight meeting Sylvia, all within a few panels. Even though I wish the anime added more than just some additional scenes of the ship leaving the island, I felt it flowed much better in the anime since, just like the family activities, each scene in the ending lasted a second or two instead of being a single illustration.

But I love how this chapter/episode ends, with Yor, Anya, and Bond napping while Anya draws about her family vacation. This seems to take place the next day or maybe later the same day they got home, so makes sense they'd still be tired from the trip!

By the way, the manga has this additional scene showing that Olka and company are safe. Weird that the anime didn't stick it in at some point.

Also, the anime team didn't have to go so hard with this episode's key visual but they did...and I love it 😍 Might actually be my favorite of the key visuals so far!

I was very happy to see the "surrounded by liars" panel finally animated! This is such a funny scene and a great way to fully wrap up the cruise arc.

I also burst out laughing at Yuri's locker 🤣

Damian is surprisingly laid back in this episode. I think the reason is because Anya's antics aren't directly involving him. He tends to go total tsundere only when she's actually talking to him, lol.

The new scene of Yor getting the keychains for her coworkers was a nice addition! Guess it's canon that Yor and Anya didn't sleep for the entire trip back, lol. Glad they got to spend family time on the ship too! (though I wish we could have seen Yor's reaction waking up in Loid's bottom bunk bed, haha. He must have brought her to his room since he wouldn't know where her room is. Unless she woke up before he even put her in a bed, in which case she would have been super embarrassed knowing he was carrying her around in public 😆)

Looks like next week the anime will be changing the order of things a bit and giving us the Becky home-wrecking and Fiona chapters (the latter of which seems to have some anime original content?) The Becky chapter is one of my favorite stand-alone chapters...I'm already dying of laugher thinking about it 😂

[armageddidnt]

Welcome to My Collection of Random Thoughts during my nth* rewatch of Good Omens Season 2

*only amazon prime knows the exact number at this point but I’m fairly certain it’s in the double digits

Episode 1: Gabriel’s fly lurking in the box when Aziraphale first takes it inside 👀

Crowley’s promise of “two minutes” basically means that he’s been homeless and living in his car for the past 4 years strictly so that he can be within 2 driving minutes of Aziraphale at all times in case his angel needs him I’m not crying you are

So here I think the key word is “fragile,” Crowley knows they are ostensibly safe from their respective sides but that could change at any moment so he’s basically spent the last 4 years in anxiety-ridden terror hovering as close to Aziraphale as he can to try and protect him from heaven, hell, and anyone else that would want to bring him harm after all that business they pulled in season 1 with stopping Armageddon

Episode 2: I just happened to pause the episode while Aziraphale is lying to the angels about his miracle and LOL Michael really outdid himself here (Sheen, not the Archangel)

Gabriel trying to swat flies and almost smashing the repository of every single one of his memories

I’m cAckling

So if Good Omens exists in Good Omens, does that mean Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett exist in Good Omens?? Do you think they based their Aziraphale and Crowley characters on Aziraphale and Crowley??

Episode 3: So I’m trying to find any hints or foreshadowing of the Gabriel Beelzebub thing bc tbh I did kind of feel like it came out of nowhere which is really the only issue I have with them. I found this one scene where Beelzebub almost ?? seems to be concerned about Gabriel ?? But it’s blink and you miss it and there could be lots of other reasons why Beelzebub doesn’t want to fail in locating Gabriel (pressure from/leverage over heaven, etc) so idk

More Foreshadowing Fly content 🪰

Episode 4: So here we’ve seen that Shax can just appear inside the Bentley bc she did it earlier to talk to Crowley. Shax only pretended to be a hitchhiker so she could be invited in because Azirpahale was driving so technically she needed permission to cross the threshold of an angel 👀

This scene will never not destroy me the 1941 flashback is the absolute sOFTEST thing ever to happen on this show

We really need more context here I need to see the Crowley-Furfur Monkey Rides

Episode 5: ahahaha thank you google translate for absolutely destroying my sanity this evening

POP goes the Ziraphale

Okay I know you can’t hear it in the gif but just before Nina takes Maggie’s hand, there’s a very quiet miracle noise, like Azirpahale literally MADE Nina dance with Maggie, he said I’m writing a Mina Jane-Austen-Ball-AU and my otp will KISS godDAMMIT

Azirpahale seems lowkey kind of manic this whole scene tho, he’s controlling literally everyone to force Nina and Maggie together and whenever Crowley says anything that pokes holes in Aziraphale’s Magical Jane Austen Ball Fairytale, Aziraphale just straight up denies it. He wants Nina and Maggie to dance and he wants him and Crowley to dance and he refuses to acknowledge anything beyond that.

Is this just Shax insulting Crowley for how much of a nuisance he’s been or a reference to his former status as an angel ???

They’re both completely dismissive of each other when they’re trying to say something important and that’s the main issue they’ve been having this entire season tbh

Episode 6: I think it’s funny that Crowley describes the angels as bees here because in the book, Neil/Terry describe humans the same way. Guess we have more in common than we thought huh?

So the metatron was the one who originally decided Gabriel would be memory wiped and not sent to hell, and he was also the one that decided not to sound an alarm about Gabriel for some reason and said ‘just go find him yourself’ instead. The metatron has definitely got his own agenda and you can bet he doesn’t want Aziraphale up there in heaven because he’s a “leader” and he’s “honest” like that’s exactly what Gabriel was and look where it got him 👀

There’s just something I can’t quite put my finger on about the metatron bringing Aziraphale a coffee from “give me coffee or give me death” and then asking Aziraphale if he’s going to take the coffee he’s giving him…

I have not seen a single person talk about this since s2 came out but Nina literally calls Maggie “angel” because that’s the term of endearment they hear Crowley using for Aziraphale !!!! I’m still going fERAL over this and I can’t believe no one else is eitHER

Something about this part of The Final Fifteen compared to this scene from the first episode is so representative of the entire season. Azirpahale keeps saying “my way or get out” and Crowley finally hits a wall and can follow Aziraphale no further. So he does just that. He goes.

I’m sure a lot of us by now have seen this post that brings up how Aziraphale literally pushes the remains of Crowley into his mouth and swallows and it’s the only thing I see when I watch this now

We still don’t know for certain if Crowley queued up this song to play on their way to the Ritz or if the Bentley started playing it all on its own and it’s driving me insane

Basically how I am doing after my Truly-Alarming-Number-th watch of this traumatizing episode/season. WELP hope you enjoyed this garbage dump of my thoughts and feelings time to go cry for a bit again BYE

[boxofbonesfic]

omg i would love a dark!Peter or a Ransom prompt 👀 it can just be an idea, or a specific scene or scenario, whatever strikes your fancy 💖

Ok! Ransom x plus size reader: college au, fwb. Ransom doesn't want to be seen with her cause she's fat and she's cool with it cause she's literally just here for the d while she gets her degree right? Ransom's an ass but that dick is bomb and no feelings are involved so perfect. But then Ransom gets addicted to the p and wants her all to himself, still on the dl tho. His changing feelings don't come out till she meets someone and breaks it off with Ransom. Reader doesn't think anything of it but Ransom COMPLETELY loses his mind and starts stalking her, blowing up her phone, etc. Not caring if everyone knows now. Reader is CONFUSED and MIFFED!

Title: Breaking

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Plus Size!Reader

Word Count: 5,374

Summary: Ransom wasn’t eager to stake any sort of claim on you—until someone else does it first.

Warnings: College AU, Stalking, Kidnapping, Darkfic, Plus Size Reader, Manipulation, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, MINORS DNI!

A/N: thank you so much for this lovely prompt! i really hope you enjoy this little ficlet. ❤️ divider by @firefly-graphics

Ransom had found it kind of funny at first, when you’d stopped responding to his rather crassly worded “U up?” texts. It wasn’t until the third text in half as many weeks had gone completely unanswered that he’d tried calling instead—and found you had blocked him completely. 

What?

That wasn’t like you. Not like Ransom had taken time to really know you, but ghosting just didn’t seem like it belonged in your playbook.

“The number you have dialed cannot be reached at this time. Please contact your service provider if you believe you have reached this message in error.”

It had taken a little finesse, Ransom laying the charm rather thickly on your friend in his business management class, the one whose name he could never remember. 

“She has a boyfriend,” she’d said, twisting a lock of her hair around her finger with a nervous giggle. “But I’m, um, single.”

Which brings him to now.

You weren’t the sort of girl he usually took out on dates, and, looking back on it, you’d picked it up rather quickly. Your requests to meet at parties or the bars his frat brothers regularly visited were answered with vague no’s. Or, more often than not, ignored outright until you stopped sending them. It wasn’t your fault—he had a reputation to think about. Though tonight, ironically, his reputation is the furthest thing from his mind. 

What is on his mind, is you. 

Ransom’s lip curls as he watches Isaac drape an arm across your shoulders, squeeing affectionately. He doesn’t know him well—they haven’t spoken much beyond the idle chit-chat around the keg. It turns his stomach, the thought that he’d finally realized just how much you meant to him, only to have this—this boy-scout steal you from right under his nose. Out from his fucking bed. 

Ransom isn’t used to coming in second place. It’s never happened before, losing something he actually wants. Isaac seems happy to be next to you, not embarrassed or hiding behind baseball caps and wide sunglasses. Not like Ransom. He’s angry—at you, a little, but mostly at himself. It’s not hard to recall how you felt underneath him, all soft skin, soft curves, and fuck. He hates himself for not savoring that last time more, for not knowing it was going to be the last time. 

This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. Ransom Drysdale didn’t get dumped—he was the one who did the dumping. And, he, thinks with no small amount of derision as he watches you from across the bar, I didn’t get dumped. We were never together. You can’t break up if you’re not together. The thought rings hollow even in his own head as he nurses his fifth beer of the night. It feels stupid-no, superficial, now; the way he’d only drop by your dorm-room after midnight, showing up without calling or texting and knowing full well that you would let him in. 

But not anymore. 

You’re too far away for him to hear it, but when you laugh, you tilt your head back, attempting to cover your wide grin with one hand. Pretty, he thins to himself, taking another long swallow from the bottle. Fuck how had he not noticed how pretty you are when you laugh, before? Had he just never seen it? Now that it occurs to him, Ransom’s hard pressed to find a memory that isn’t just sweaty skin, and hungry words growled into the curls at the nape of your neck.  

Fuck.  

Those were his favorite nights, the ones he spent digging his fingers into the softness of your hips while he sank in to the hilt—Ransom shudders. Even through the condoms you insisted he wear, the memory of your slick, tight heat is enough to send a hot, jealous pulse through his veins. 

“We’re not together,” you’d said, crossing your arms stoutly as you stared up at him. “Condom or nothing.”

Probably doesn’t make Isaac wear a fucking condom. He takes another bitter swallow. He doesn’t know what’s worse, the thought of you fucking that Leave it To Beaver reject, or you fucking him raw. Both make him see red. 

“Right, Ransom?” Someone claps him on the shoulder, and Ransom nods wordlessly. He isn’t paying attention, not to them, not with you here. You lean over to say something to your friend, the same mousy one who’d volunteered herself in your place. Ransom scoffs into his beer. 

“Three fucking weeks.” He mumbles, draining the bottle before placing it down almost too hard on the bar-top. “How’s it get serious in three fucking weeks?” He waves at the bartender, signaling for another. 

“Ran, we’re heading out.” Theo jerks his head towards the door. “There’s a party at Jude’s place. Hella girls.” He waggles his eyebrows. “Drunk ones.” 

Ransom shrugs bad-naturedly, grimacing. “I’m going to stay here,” he says evasively, casting another sour look at you as his lip curls. “I don’t feel like pulling your head out of the toilet tonight.” 

“Whatever, man.” Theo rolls his eyes, squaring his shoulders. He follows Ransom’s eye across the bar, and smirks. “Just because you’re not getting your dick wet with your porky little sidepiece anymore doesn’t mean the rest of us have to stay here and mope with you all weekend.” 

Maybe it’s the alcohol warming his gut, but Ransom’s up before he’s really got a chance to think about it, his hands on Theo’s shoulders as he shoves him backwards, hard. The other man stumbles backward, and Ransom squares his shoulders. 

“Don’t fucking talk about her like that.”

“What, now you care, all of a sudden?” Theo scoffs. “Dude you wouldn’t even let her come in through the front door—” 

Ransom doesn’t know when exactly he grabbed a handful of Theo’s thin hair, holding his head still while he drives a frenzied fist into his former friend’s face as everyone watches. He comes to as he rears his fist back again, the sound of his name distant in his ears, like it was spoken through glass. 

“Ransom!” Your confused face in the crowd is all he can see—which is why Theo’s sucker punch catches him off guard. It makes his ears ring as stars explode in his right eye. The world tilts as Ransom stumbles, and the television static in his ears is replaced by yelling. The warm wet trickle from his nose is blood, staining the tips of his fingers red as he holds his face. Theo’s not doing much better, blood pouring from his nose, and an ugly, swollen bruise coming to bear on the right side of his face. 

“Fuck you,” Theo mumbles, drawing the back of his sleeve across his bloody lip. “Fucking asshole.” He storms out, a few of their frat brothers trailing behind him as he goes. 

“Are you fucking serious?” The bartender throws down the towel in his hands, before smacking them against the bar-top. “I’ve fucking told you guys about bringing that bullshit in here—”

“I was just leaving,” Ransom snaps, shoving his hands into his pockets. He hates that he can feel your eyes on him too; watchful, judging. Theo’s gone by the time Ransom makes his way outside. It’s almost winter break, and the icy night air feels good against the hot, painful throbbing in his cheek. 

“Ransom.” He turns, scowling at you over his shoulder. “What the fuck was that?” He shrugs miserably. 

“Nothing.” 

“It didn’t look like nothing.”

“What do you fucking care?” The venom on his tongue flows easily, likely aided by the liquid courage currently sloshing around in his gut. “You blocked me. You have a boyfriend.” He doesn’t know what he’s expecting from this confrontation, but your distinct lack of a reaction feels like more of a slap in the face than anything else. You blink at him, one eyebrow quirked as if in question. 

“Yeah, I did.” Why does it hurt? Ransom’s rejected hundreds of girls—some as he was fucking pulling out of them, so why does this feel like a fucking knife in his back? “I figured you wouldn’t care much, Ransom, considering.” He hates this, hates how he’s the angry one and you’re calm—the roles should be reversed. They would be, if not for that niggling, irritating feeling that you should be his, just his. He doesn’t want to admit that you’re right, that you’ve got him pegged dead to fucking rights.

“How would you know?”

“You don’t sneak girls you like in through the basement entrance.” You retort smoothly. You’ve had a lifetime of this, of learning to live in your body, of learning to weather other people’s reactions to it—it’s Ransom that’s unfamiliar with rejection, unsure of how to handle the fact that the “r-train” isn’t enough to keep you coming back for more despite his treatment. 

“But I do. I do like you.” He says, running a hand through his hair. “Don’t do this. It doesn’t have to be a thing. We can just, we can go back to how it was before.” This time, you do react, your face screwing up as you regard him first with disbelief and then anger. 

“Why would I give up being in a relationship with someone who actually likes me, who is willing to be seen with me in public places and with his friends— you know what? I don’t need this.” You mutter, pinching the bridge of your nose. “This is what I fucking get for trying to make sure you’re okay. Silly me. I thought we were mature, here.” You gesture between the two of you before another dry laugh bubbles out from between your lips. 

“Have a good night, Ransom.”

No, no, don’t leave! The desperate thought makes his throat tight. You can’t leave me. He stumbles exaggeratedly as you watch, falling against the bus stop with a groan. The plan lays itself out before him neatly like lines on a map. 

“God fucking dammit—Ransom!” You huff irritatedly. He leans against the pole, counting the seconds until you come over to check on him. You do, and he moans pitifully. “Can you walk?” 

“No,” he hiccoughs, swaying cartoonishly as you try to help him stand. “Ju-hic-just go. I’ll be fine.” You blow an exasperated breath out as you straighten him up. She doesn’t talk to her parents. He licks his lips as you pull out your phone, holding it up to your ear as you wait for someone to answer on the other end. She told me that when we were smoking, that one time. 

“I obviously can’t. How did you get here?” You say, holding your hand over the mouthpiece as you scowl up at him. 

“Theo d-drove.” The house is only a ten minute drive from here. Fifteen, tops.

“Yeah, I’m just going to head back to campus. No, I’m gonna take an uber. Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow, Isaac.” The little smile that curls at the corners of your lips makes him sick. “Yeah, you too.” Ransom leans on you heavily, and you don’t seem to notice when he presses his face into your hair, inhaling the scent of your shampoo with relish. Fucking Isaac.

“I’ll get the uber,” he says, slurring the words deliberately as he fumbles with his own phone. “M’sorry, Princess.” He taps the screen clumsily, selecting Home instead of Dorm, before hastily stowing it back in his pocket.

“Don’t call me that.” You snap sharply. You try—and fail—to stand Ransom on his own two feet. Instead he hangs over you, draped over your shoulders with his chin resting on the top of your head.

“Why?” The question comes out petulantly. “You used to like it.” 

“Stop.” 

The familiar feel of your body pressed against his is sweet in a way Ransom hadn’t anticipated. The attic’s secure. Quiet. 

When the car pulls up, Ransom allows you to wrangle him into the back seat, where he sprawls across your lap when you sit down beside him. You don’t say anything to the driver beyond a mumbled hello, which suits him just fine. Ransom plays up the drunk act, asking the driver a nonsensical question that makes you whisper at him to be quite. 

“Sorry. Just trying to get him home.” You reply, pushing uselessly at his head as he settles into your lap. Soft. He can’t help but run a reverent hand across your jean clad thigh. Love how soft she is.

You’re so distracted trying to keep him from getting comfortable that you don’t notice the cab is heading away from the dorm until the driver turns down the private road. 

“Wait—wait, I think you made a wrong turn somewhere,” you say, leaning forward to talk to the driver. He shakes his head enthusiastically, and points at his phone’s GPS. 

“No, I followed the directions,” he protests, and Ransom hides his snicker in a groan. “This is the address.” 

You lean back with a dissatisfied sigh, and look down at Ransom. 

“Let me see your phone.” He unlocks it and hands it over, his face a mask of innocence. You notice the mistake immediately, leaning forward again. “Could you turn around and take us back to Harvard campus, please—”

“This trip was already way out of my route,” the driver grouses, frowning at the two of you in the mirror. “And I don’t think he’ll make another trip. Looks like he’s about to puke any second.” 

“He’s fine.” 

Ransom retches, and watches as the cabby’s face twists angrily. 

“He’s not! I’m sorry, I’m done for the night. Maybe someone else will be able to pick you up.”

The finality in his voice makes Ransom giddy, and he clutches his stomach, gagging. He’s never thrown up—he’s not a fucking freshman lightweight, he’s a fucking Sigma for chrissakes—but he’s willing to let the two of you believe he might. You bite your lip, teeth sinking into its pillow softness as you try to undo what Ransom’s done. 

“M’sorry. Didn’ mean to put in the wrong hic place.”

You nod stiffly. “I know. I guess… Well, this place has plenty of couches, right?” There’s little humor in your joke, but Ransom makes sure to laugh a little anyway, nodding. 

“My grandfather won’t mind if you sleep in one of the guest rooms. Promise, Princess.” 

“Ransom, don’t—”

“We’re here.” The driver cuts in as the car pulls to a stop in front of the house. “Sounds like you guys have it all figured out.” 

—

As expected, the only people home are his grandfather, along with a few odd members of the staff. They’re easy enough to convince, Fran and Marta ferrying him upstairs to his room while he mumbles incoherently. You help too, tugging the blanket up over him after pulling off his shoes with a grunt. It feels nice, having you care for him like this, your soft hands on his face. 

It feels right. 

“I’ll get the guest room set up for you upstairs,” Fran says on her way out. “I’ve got a t-shirt around here somewhere.” Ransom doesn’t catch your answer, but that doesn’t matter much, not when he knows where you’ll be. It’s strange, how he’s impatient now, here at the home stretch, but he is. The smell of you, the taste, the feel, it’s all he can think about now that he’s so close.

It won’t be easy keeping you, he knows that, but nothing good comes without a challenge, right? And with the right motivation, Ransom knows he can make you fall in line. The house quiets around him, and distantly, he hears the sound of first Fran’s car, and then Marta’s. He forces himself to wait a few minutes more, and when he emerges out into the still air of the hallway, he smiles. 

The door to the guest room is ever so slightly ajar, and Ransom slides inside. You sit up sharply, and for a moment only sound between you is the quiet settling of the house. 

“What are you doing?”

“I came to check on you.” He can’t see your face in the dark, but he can see the shape of you, silhouetted in the pale beam of light streaming in from the tiny window above the bed. 

“I’m fine.” The words are stiff. “You should go to bed.” 

He doesn’t. Instead, Ransom turns and closes the door securely behind him, slipping the key into his pocket. The sound is deafening in the quiet, and he knows you hear it too. 

“Have you texted Isaac, yet?” He asks, cocking his head. The room is small, shaped oddly by the sloping roof, and Ransom himself takes up the bulk of it standing in front of the door. You seem to shrink a little in response, and your hesitation answers the question truthfully, before you’ve even spoken. 

“Y-yes. You should go to—” The way your hand strays under the pillow to feel for your phone tells him the opposite. Ransom licks his lips. 

“Have you fucked him yet, Princess?”

Your gasp is audible. 

“Don’t—don’t call me that. Ransom go to bed. You’re drunk.”

“Have you fucked him?” He repeats it, dropping to his knees on the bed.

“Get out!” You make for the door too late, and Ransom grabs you, wrapping an arm securely around your waist as he breathes a relieved sigh into your bare shoulder. Your frustrated struggle turns panicked at the sound of metal clacking against metal. “No, Ransom no—” The handcuffs he produces from his pocket aren’t the padded ones he’s used with you before—these are the real deal, and he clamps them tightly around your left wrist, looping it around the bed-frame before capturing your right. You’re writhing and fighting, but it’s easy to ignore the pain as he locks his arms tight, waiting for you to tire yourself out. 

You’re wearing just a t-shirt, and Ransom palms the heavy weight of your tits through the soft cotton with a soft groan.

“So you haven’t fucked him.” 

You open your mouth to scream, and Ransom laughs. 

“Nearest person is two floors down, Princess,” he breathes, a low,  satisfied hum rumbling in his chest as he draws his fingers through your messy hair, before tangling his fingers in it to tug your head back. His teeth scrape at your throat. “You can scream if you want to,” he mumbles against your pulse. “You know I like it when you’re loud.” 

“Ransom, stop. You’re—”

“Drunk?” He answers smartly, before shaking his head. He cups your face with one sure hand, stroking your lip with the pad of his thumb. “I know you feel bad, Princess. You let me fuck that juicy cunt so quick, you thought you needed to make him work for it.” This close he can see your face, can see the guilt you quickly try to bury because he’s right. The answer is there, written in the way you turn your head away from him, trying to hide your face in shadow. Ransom doesn’t let you, squeezing your cheeks between his fingers as he forces you to stay still, to look him in the eye. 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” You spit hoarsely, and Ransom laughs. “You’re fucking drunk and-and—get off me!” You shrill, bucking against him uselessly. If he’s drunk, that’s what he’s drunk on; the heady sensation of knowing the truth with absolute certainty. 

“I know exactly what I’m talking about.” He sneers, pressing you down into the mattress. The smell of your skin is intoxicating, like orange blossoms and fucking sunshine. “Fuck, Princess, I missed this.” It’s almost reverent, the way he slides his hands down over your hips, slowly working a knee between your stubborn thighs. Your borrowed t-shirt rolls up as Ransom spreads your legs, grinning at the sight of white lace between them.

He draws a finger over the curve of your cunt before cupping it. 

“Why’d you block me, Sweetheart?” He asks, tracing the shape of your puffy lips through the cotton. 

“You didn’t want me!” You hiss through clenched teeth. Ransom clucks his tongue at you, shaking his head, before delivering a stinging slap to your cunt. You feel it through the cotton, of course, whining and writhing underneath him as you cry out. “You’re fucking crazy—” The palm of his hand cracks sharply against you again, and it cuts your complaint short as the words disappear in a pained gasp. 

“Be honest with me, Princess.” He says, grinning as you try to wriggle away from him.

“You wouldn’t even be seen with me!” Your voice cracks. “It’s not fair, Ransom!”

“You want me to stake a claim, Sweetheart? I can do that,” Ransom breathes, pushing the shirt up over your breasts, groaning at the sight of your puffy nipples. He draws his thumb across one, watching, enraptured, as the flesh pebbles underneath his touch. He trails sloppy, heated kisses up the side of your throat, nipping at the skin until you whimper. He mouths at your skin, sucking at the purpling bruise until he pulls away, satisfied. 

“We can think of a more permanent solution later.” He leans back with a satisfied sigh. It feels good to mark you, to watch the bruises spread like ink on your pretty skin. 

“Please, Ransom, just go!” You sob, the chain rattling against the bed-frame as you try unsuccessfully to loose yourself from your restraints. “We-we’ll just pretend it never happened!” You nod at him, like you’re trying to encourage him to do the same, your wide eyes fever bright. “It’ll be just like before—”

“Why would I want that?” He asks, reaching down to tug your panties tight, pulling the fabric tautly through the lips of your pussy like dental floss. “I don’t think you���re really grasping the situation, Princess, so let me spell it out for you.” Ransom spreads your legs wider as you stare up at him with fearful eyes. 

“I don’t want things how they were before.” He snarls. “Things are different now, Sweetheart. You made them different.” Ransom slips his fingers underneath the elastic of your panties, and begins tugging them own your thighs, ignoring your whimpered pleas to wait and stop. You kick at him, a frenzied wail working its way out of your throat. True to his word, he ignores it, sliding down your body until he’s faced with the slick patch between your thighs. 

“Ransom—” His name is a hoarse wail as he attaches his lips to your cunt, his tongue seeking out your traitorously swelling clit. He grins against you, dragging his tongue noisily through your folds, moaning. This is perfection, he muses dimly, lapping at you as you whine. You can’t deny how good it feels, not when he can see the evidence glistening on your quaking thighs, taste it on his tongue. You’re gasping, those precious little choking noises filling his ears as you try to swallow down the sound of your pleasure.  

“Can’t fucking get over how good you taste, Princess,” he mumbles, reveling in your yelp as he sucks harshly on your swollen bud, spreading you wide with his fingers. You shake, your body jackknifing as you murmur nonsensically. He’s always loved that flavor—like fresh peaches, why do you taste like fucking peaches—

“F-Fuck you!” He doesn’t let you cum, though, pulling away to flick softly at your clit with his thumb. He draws the back of his hand across his mouth, wiping away the evidence of your body’s betrayal with a sly smile. A hoarse little whimper escapes you, and Ransom clucks his tongue, before reaching down to palm himself through his sweats. His cock his hard, so hard it almost hurts, thick drops of precum gathering at the reddened tip. He reaches for his phone with the other hand, the shutter noise clicking as he snaps a few pictures of your tear-stained face. 

“N-no, no—!” You voice your displeasure with a whine as Ransom pans the camera down your body, like he’s trying to map it out for posterity’s sake. “No pictures, please, please!” Your wild, watery eyes are frantic as you plead with him. “Please don’t, Ran, please don’t send those—” A hot pulse shoots through his body at your desperation, and his cock throbs. 

“A minute ago you were just telling me to go fuck myself.” He quirks an eyebrow at you over the top of the phone. “So which is it?”

“Please don’t send those.” You swallow thickly, the sound audible. “Please.”

He has no intention of sending them anywhere—except maybe to Isaac with your face cropped out, of course. But he smiles lasciviously anyway, blue eyes narrowing. Ransom runs his tongue across his lips, still tasting you on them.

“Let’s make a little deal, then.” He tugs his sweats down, and the fat, veiny length of his cock springs out. Ransom hisses softly as he spreads a sticky drop of precum across his tip with his thumb. “You’re going to end it with Isaac.” You open your mouth to complain, but Ransom forges ahead, ignoring you. “We’ll be exclusive, you and me, Princess.” He forces your thighs open a little wider. “Just like you want.” Ransom’s practically giddy with the thrill of it as your full lips begin to tremble and fresh tears track down your cheeks.

“I—I don’t want you!” You gasp, your attempts to buck him off only succeeding in wedging him further between your frantically kicking legs. Ransom clucks his tongue at you. 

“I don’t know about that, Princess,” he says, slapping a hand against your swollen cunt, cupping it roughly. You squeal as he draws a finger through your slick, still throbbing folds. 

“Not sure if you’ve ever been wetter.” Ransom presses your thighs to your chest. He asks, licking his lips. “It’s all up to you, of course.” Ransom lies so easily it doesn’t even really occur to him that he’s doing it. 

“You tell me to go, I’ll go. But I can’t say what’ll happen to that footage.” He shrugs. He’s got no intention of leaving this room, not really, but he doesn’t mind pretending. “But if you were my girl, I might be able to swing deleting it. After all, what would I need it for? Got the real thing all to myself.” He dips the tip of a thick finger into your entrance. “Get it, Princess? No more scholarship. No more shitty dorm-room. I’ll take care of you.”

You’re so easy to read like this, your guard down and your desperation front and center. He can see you weighing the options, trying to parse out the best win for yourself in this devil’s bargain. He can see you testing the weight of your future against the events of this evening, and coming up far short. Ransom’s not stupid—and neither are you. You know what happens to girls like you when these things make their way into campus chatrooms and local reddit pages. 

“You’ll really delete them?” You ask meekly, your mouth trembling. “You won’t… you won’t show these to anyone?” Ransom grins wider, drawing an X across his heart with the tip of his index finger. 

“Cross my heart.” Ransom steadies one hand against your hip, his fingers sinking into the soft curve of it as he aligns himself with your entrance. His eyes roll as the head of his cock meets your cunt with a lewd, wet squelch. He’s getting impatient—after all, it’s been more than two weeks since the last time he’s been inside you, and his cock twitches hard against you at the thought. 

“Okay.”

“I’m sorry Princess, you’ll need to speak up.” Ransom leans down over you, his hard eyes locked on yours. “Again.” 

“I said fine!” Your quiet voice is strained. “Fine. I’ll—I’ll break up with Isaac—”  Ransom kisses you, swallowing the rest of your words eagerly. He gorges himself on your mouth, sucking your tongue fiercely before pulling away to worry at your lower lip with his teeth until it’s swollen and red. 

“Oh Princess.” He breathes. “You don’t know how happy I am to hear that.”  He watches with dark glee when your eyes go wide as he begins to press into you, the head of his cock forcing you open. “No condom this time, but that’s alright, isn’t it?”

“Ransom!”

“M’right here,” he breathes, his hips jerking as your slick, puffy cunt sucks at his tip. “Fuck.” Ransom watches your eyes roll as you sink your teeth into your lower lip.  “I know you missed it too, Sweetheart,” Ransom grits the words out through his teeth as he sinks in, his toes curling as your wet heat envelops him inch by precious inch. “You can admit it.” 

The warm euphoria that spreads down his spine as he bottoms out draws another curse from his lips. You feel like fucking slick velvet inside, your walls clamping down on the girth of his cock like a wet fist. It’s hypnotic, pulling out only to thrust home again, his ears barely registering the groan of the bed-frame beneath you. The space between his temples is buzzing—your compliance, the feel of you around him, the knowledge that he’d won—Ransom’s delirious with it. 

What’s even better is he can see it, plain on your face how much you’re enjoying it—how much you hate yourself for it. It makes every mumbled curse, every moan he wrenches from your unwilling throat all the sweeter. Ransom clucks his tongue at you as he leans down to capture your lips again. They’re pillow soft and swollen from his teeth. 

“It’s my fault.” Ransom drives his cock into you, groaning. “I was stupid, Princess, I know. But I know what I need, now,” he says, hooking an arm beneath your thigh, lifting it so he can sink in even deeper. “Just you.” The shameful little wail that escapes your throat as you clamp down around him is almost enough to make him cum with you, cursing and crying as you do. He hangs on by the last fraying thread of his self control. 

“Shit, shit, shit—”

“See?” He laughs, rolling his hips into yours with heavy strokes. “You need me, too.” 

God, he loves seeing you like this, loves being the one to break you apart—loves knowing he’ll be the only one. It’s that thought that does it, aided by the miserable way you mewl his name as you cum again. His hands are tight on your hips, sinking into the heavy curve of them as he growls your name roughly in your ear. For a moment he’s lost in it; his forehead resting against yours as you milk him. 

He stays inside you for a few luxurious minutes, basking in the feel of your cunt before pulling out. Ransom slaps his still hard cock against your oversensitive clit and you whine, your hips jerking. He can’t help but admire the mess he’s made, dragging his tip through your slick, sticky folds. 

You watch him with red-rimmed eyes, your brows furrowing as he rises from the bed, pulling his sweats back up over his hips. He doesn’t reach for the keys, but instead slides his hand underneath your pillow to remove your phone. 

“Ransom let me out, now.” Your voice is high, panicked. “You promised—”

“To delete the pictures.” He finishes, nodding. As you sputter, he removes his own phone from his pocket, and faces the screen towards you as he selects the pictures and videos from the photo album, and there’s a swooshing sound from the phone’s speakers as they disappear. “And I’ve deleted them.” Frantically, you rattle the handcuff chains against the bed-frame, trying desperately to dislodge them as Ransom sighs. 

“You’re just going to hurt yourself.” You keep trying anyway, ignoring him your terrified sobs grow louder. 

“Let me go! You fucking promised, Ransom, don’t leave me here—”

He cocks his head at you. 

“Why would I leave you?” He asks, slipping both your phones into his pocket as he stands, stretching. “Winter break’s just starting,” Ransom says with a smile. “And I can’t think of a better way to spend it.” 

the end

Thank you for reading! Please check out my masterlist for other, similar works, and follow my library blog, @box-of-bones-library for updates. ❤️

[dawnbreakersgaze]

NOPE

NO

NO THANK YOU

I don't like the way those are lining up AT ALL.

"Broken free of the shackles of natural law"

We've heard/seen Zayne be referenced as "shackled" at least 3 times before at this point. By Raymond, by the 'Narrator' ("remains shackled to time"), and in reference to the Foreseer myth. This makes the 4th. I genuinely hurt every single time the story so heavy handidly reminds me that Zayne really is a dog on a chain. The Foreseer robes even have a LITERAL collar of thorns over the neck of it ffs. It's painful to watch at this point and it breaks my heart.

"Why persuade Zayne? What he really needs is a pair of hands. Ones that can carry out God's mission and allow for God's descent."

Between this, and the one below of-

"At least he has another option. His last one"

I'm torn on which one is referencing Astra. On one hand, Astra really could be a modern made "God". An elevated man of great power, someone Zayne turned to in his 11th hour to try and save MC (though we all know how that turned out, unfortunately). It would seem that Xander Sciences is playing at God, and if we know anything about the sci-fi scene, it's that human experimentation ALWAYS ends up going ~soooo well~ and nothing ever goes wrong there 👀

On the other hand, the "last option" really gets my gut feeling going. My theorist brain is telling me Zayne is gonna go full Warlock pact and make a deal with an entity in exchange for MC's life. Only it's gonna go tits up and be a Fey pact, and because we all know how MC and he end up, clearly Zayne did NOT read the fine print (or more likely, Zayne thought he could out maneuver the rules). Ever since I read the Mt Eternal anecdote and realized the Tower and Mt Eternal are in the same location, I could not shake the feeling that Zayne already has made contact with whatever "Astra" is. Be it a very powerful person, an actual God, or someone else entirely different (like another time traveler, such as Xavier and the backtrackers). We know he's traveling back there multiple times by himself, conducting research of an unknown variety, that only he and Dr. Noah are privy to. I'm just saying if ever there was a cover up for having contact with a supernatural being/aliens/a God, that's a really fucking good one.

Whatever it is, this new lore drop has really really spelled out in big bold letters, that Zayne is thought of as a tool by a LOT of people. Xander Sciences, Astra, even the Dean of the medical academy had a moment there. My poor man even thinks of himself as a tool, one that is meant to save MC (from himself he even says at one point 😭😭😭 like oh my God Zayne stoppppp). He literally considers himself expendable so long as he saves her. Once he's done his job and secured her future, even if that means passing on the ability to save her to someone else, he's fine laying down his life for that.

And that's seriously the saddest part of this whole fucking game imo.

[nozunhinged]

My Top 5 BL Kisses of Jan (& Feb) 24 + why

Okay, okayyyyy I'm doing this, no backing out. I offically accept that analyzing kisses takes up so much of my brainspace that I can write about it — so here it goes. I'M NOT HIDING ANYMORE BUT OWNING UP TO IT! (lol, chill)

Last year I complained that I didn't get a single perfect kiss since I started watching BL TV shows (until PhayaTharn turned up) and now we're not even a quarter into the new year and I already got FIVE I'm absolutely in AWE about!! FIVE!!

I don't know if it's the actors, directors or coaches who upped their game (probably all of them) but hot damn, all of these are beautiful.

And don't ask me why I'm into kiss-acting so much I have no fucking clue, my first guess is that it's an artform in itself to make this amazing, wonderful, intimate form of touching look as beautiful as it feels — bc let's be honest here, irl kissing rarely looks pretty no matter how great it is! So I think it's just dope when you can see this beauty translated on screen.

So I guess this is peak romance genre for me and with that being said, enough talking, lets get to the kissykissies!

5. TenPrem - Cooking Crush EP. 11

I have to be honest with you, I was a bit confused by the kissing in this show. The tippytoe kiss was cute as heck but we all saw how Off AND Gun awkwardly blinked because they probably had to stay like that for a looooong time. It took the whole magic out of the whole first-kiss-moment. Same with the forced in, reshot makeout-scenes. But the kiss in the kitchen? Looks like they FINALLY got to show what they got.

Ten gently pulling Prem closer, them smoothly moving against each other, Ten closing in even more, the slightly open-mouthed kiss with their lips perfectly caressing each other, Ten with a bit more force, Prem with a bit more heat resulting in the perfect mix...Loved it, mwah.

4. PromNont - Playboyy EP. 12

They are my one Playboyy-couple where I'm like "if they don't end up married and running Playboyy together, starting the revolution of well-payed, insured and safe sex workers I'm gonna riot" even though I know this show will not end nicely for ANYONE.

Anyways, this kiss. Holy smokes they had so many good scenes but this one took the cake. Not just the sheer length of it (but still with perfect timing and breaks).

The slightest suck on Nonts upper lip, Prem literally making Nont sway, Nonts hidden desperation for Prom surfacing from his lips, them slowly but surely turning up the heat and last but not least, Prom grabbing Nonts face just to lean against him...UGH THEM!

(I made those)

3. Myungha & Yeowoon - Love for Love's Sake EP 8

I know I'm not alone in how this show swept me off my feet and hit me right in the feels. But I've gotta say, this kiss hit completely different. Again they kissed for so long but not a single moment felt wasted. It felt like their whole story put in a single kiss. And — I mean that in the most loving and positive way possible — they kissed so amazingly gay. Do you know what I mean?!

There's just this level of love, care and happiness that only queer couples can convey. Sprinkled with a hint of tongue (I saw that Yeowoon 👀) — they absolutely nailed it.

2. AlanJeff - Pit Babe EP. 11

The kiss that made me consider doing this post in the first place. I saw them and shouted THIS IS PERFECT just to realize that I did this a few weeks ago already and it made me spiral a little. In the best way possible because I felt truly blessed once again to have discovered the genre of BL in their golden era!

Because this right here is how you nail an open mouthed kiss my friends. Take notes BL producers. Put this in your textbooks! They both go at the same rythm (slow, careful but so, so loving JUST LIKE THEIR RELATIONSHIP UGH) and same level of touch so their lips caress each other perfectly. Furthermore, Alan knows exactly how to meet Jeff which is also a PERFECT EXTENSION OF HIS CHARACTER! Alan leads, Jeff follows but they meet perfectly and equally. TEN OUT OF TEN NO NOTES!

1. PhayaTharn - The Sign EP. 9

I don't understand the meaning of the "Roman Empire"-thing but I think if I say they are mine, I am correct because they will be the end of me and that's what that means right? I may be biased AF but objectively speaking, this is just an insanely well acted-out scene, PERIOD! And we all know it's thanks to Billybabes out-of-this-world-chemistry!

Phayas desperation translated into this gorgeous lip-clash, so much yearning but softness at the same time but what really got to me was how Tharn immediately melted after their lips touched, how he immediately opened up to him and got completely overwhelmed by Phayas feelings. Chapeau to Babe for showing so much range in a single second. My favorite kiss of the whole series ❤️

I also just realized all these kisses have one thing in common....hands on faces lol.

Well that was fun peeps, thanks if you made it until the end!

[verycharismaticdragon]

@mandlien: Op where is the essay 👀 @latitudeoctopus: An essay I would like to see 🙏

Glad u asked! <-guy who was totally angling for someone to ask

OG post this continues from, for those just tuning in now:

actually SQQ's first encounter with LQG perfectly illustrates which of SY's idiosyncrasies perfectly converged to make him absolutely obsessed with Binghe, in this essay i will

So, to start with, the explanation for why I think this scene in particular is more illuminating than all of SQQ's interactions with actual LBH. 

That's because there's not a single scene in the novel where his interactions with LBH-the-person are not colored by pre-existing bias of already being obsessed with LBH-the-character. Like, consider the scene where he appraises Shen Qingqiu's looks, and finishes it off with:

He still couldn’t compare to Luo Binghe. (vol.1, ch.1)

despite not having seen Luo Binghe in person yet. But no, he's already convinced his beloved blorbo is of course The Handsomest Ever!

Simply speaking, we never encounter Shen Yuan pre-Binghe Syndrome (when instead of brain there's binghe). So it's difficult to tell whether any particular way he thinks or feels in Binghe’s presence is the standard for him, or owed to the fact that he already likes Binghe in at least one way.

But the same can not be said of Liu Qingge: while SY did have some interest in his character, he didn’t really think of him before encountering him in Lingxi Caves. Plus, unlike Binghe who seems to have fully aligned with SQQ’s expectations of him, LQG had given him a little shock — which prompted some re-evaluation of his prev thoughts on SQQ's part.

(cont. under cut)

Now is a good time to mention that I arrived at thinking about this scene while considering Shen Yuan's relationship with toxic masculinity — and remembering I jotted down 'Shen Yuan's fascination with masculinity' in my reread notes for this scene.

[Bai Zhan Peak] was the most warlike of Cang Qiong Mountain's branches, as well as the branch with the greatest martial ability. Every single generation's Bai Zhan Peak Lord was a world-class swordmaster, a victor of countless battles, an undefeated legend. How hot-blooded—how dashing!  Male readers always fervently admired strong characters. Even though Liu Qingge never officially debuted on page, he hadn't lacked for fans, and Shen Yuan had been especially fascinated with him. In his headcanon, Liu Qingge had been a sharp and manly man, powerful and magnificent. A war god, right?! (vol.1, ch.2)

So, Shen Yuan’s fascination with Liu Qingge’s character — or rather his headcanon version of it — is about Liu Qingge being someone who (in SY’s mind) embodies masculine qualities. And what qualities are those? From this section, being “strong” (has to be physically powerful) and “undefeated” (can’t be a loser) — yeah, pretty standard toxic masc starting kit. 

And something of interest here: though SQQ describes it mostly as his own feelings, even in this excerpt, he slips in a “male readers always [...] admired” — which, when considering everything else we know about his relationship to masculinity, kind of gives off an insecurity vibe. He seems to be either trying to justify his own feelings (i.e., ‘other men feel the same way, i’m in-group not out-group, i’m not failing at being a man by feeling this way [admiring another man]’), or else emulating other male fans and trying to convince himself he relates to the story the same way they do (i.e., ‘male readers admire strong characters and im a man therefore i definitely also admire the same things’).

Speaking of emulating other male fans, there’s another quality that SY seems to associate with masculinity, this one not very related to Liu Qingge — though SQQ does make a mental detour into it in the same scene, when talking about other Peaks.

Yeah, when he mentions Xian Shu, and the fact that the popularity of self-insert erotic/lewd fics about Xian Shu "compared to that of the original work” in PIDW fandom, or possibly even in general on ‘Zhongdian’ (since afaik you can publish fanfiction on Chinese webnovel sites alongside original works, you just have to tag it as such). In other words, among male fans. 

But we know SY doesn’t like sex scenes, right? Hell, his favorite wife is Liu Mingyan at least in part because she doesn’t have sex scenes:

There was one more appeal factor. Liu Mingyan was the only female character for whom Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky didn't write detailed sex scenes. (vol.1, ch.2)

Of course… that’s what SQQ says in his head where nobody can hear him. We actually have evidence of him singing a different tune when among other fans:

Most of the female protagonists are stupid sexy lamps, and the male lead doesn't even bed Liu Mingyan, the only breath of fresh air? He doesn't bed the rightful empress? Are you fucking kidding me? (vol.4, ch.26, part 1)

(speaking of, this is why ‘peerless cucumber is SY’s true self’ takes baffle me. his toxicmascsona is his true self, really?)

So SY has another qualifier for ‘manly man’ in his head: being sexual (of course, in a straight way). Which is not something that comes naturally to him, as evidenced by him cringing away from any actual action even when he tries to emulate the thought pattern, e.g.:

Qi Qingqi? She was indeed slightly junior to him, and their first meeting...he'd long forgotten how it went. "Often together" wasn't quite right, though. Perhaps he at times dared to think about going to Xian Shu Peak so they could be "often together," but while he had the wicked intentions, he lacked the courage required to follow through—and he could never commit an act as depraved as stalking. (vol.4, ch.23) 

Riiiight, SQQ, you totally have those 'wicked intentions' that you merely can't follow through on because you just invented reasons not to.

But that does give us an image of SY’s ideal of masculinity. Extremely powerful, undefeatable, and hypersexual… yeah no points for guessing who. I’m pretty sure SQQ even directly equates Bing-ge with masculinity somewhere, I just can’t remember the exact spot. And he also believes that any man should definitely want to be in Bing-ge’s place, like for example here:

Every man dreamed of being caught between an angel and a devil. To watch them jealously vie with each other over him one moment, then risk life and limb for his sake in the next—that was the highest, most sacred, perverted fantasy of every male organism.  (vol.1, ch.2)

…though I must note, once again, “every man”, “every male organism” — but does SQQ actually feel the same way? I think that the answer is he thinks that he should, and is trying to convince himself that he does.

Which must be difficult considering he finds men more attractive than women, returning back to that scene with Liu Qingge.

In any other state, Shen Qingqiu might have declared, "What a beautiful man!" (vol.1, ch.2)

Really bestie? You would've declared it? Because I don't see you show the same enthusiasm about women. In fact, you usually jump right into how they were described in the novel, as if you don't have your own opinion. 

Now, I must note that I personally don’t think finding someone attractive equals actually being attracted to them. But this does imply which way SQQ's tastes veer. In fact, we can even see that he has a type. First, he describes LQG's face as "as beautiful as a fine woman's"; then adds:

This was clearly the face of a charming young master who arranged flowers and plucked farewell willow branches! (vol.1, ch.2)

Of course, if we are talking about charming young masters with feminine looks, their bearing that of a classic Chinese gentleman (warrior-scholar ideal who’d ‘pluck farewell willow branches’)...

That firm yet humble countenance, demonstrating his noble and unyielding spirit. That pencil-straight back and stance, evincing a proud core that would rather break than bend! (vol.1, ch.1)

[SQQ] saw a glimpse of the future Luo Binghe's unique grace, that of "eyes like cold stars, a soft and radiant smile, with muted words and quiet laughter." (vol.1, ch.1)

In truth, deep down, Bing-ge's fair and clean pretty-boy type didn't really suit the tastes of "Great Master" Airplane Flying Towards the Sky. He had only assigned this sort of configuration to the protagonist to meet his stallion hardware specifications. The art of growing stallions was grounded in science, and the research was clear: women preferred men who looked cultured, pretty, and even a bit soft and feminine. (vol.4, ch.26, part 2)

…there’s no question who is superlative in SQQ’s heart. To boot, he doesn’t even realize that he’s biased about LBH’s attractiveness, as we can see from Airplane-bro’s musings above. So that’s Cucumber-bro’s type: cultured, pretty, a bit feminine.

See, a fun little discrepancy here: what SQQ sees as a masculine ideal and therefore can admire plainly — again, powerful, undefeatable, and hypersexual, — and what he finds attractive in a man, under all those layers of denial, are two pretty different things.

Liu Qingge, despite his appearance unveiling a side of both to us, doesn’t actually fully embody either type: on the masculinity side, he is missing the hypersexuality, on the attractiveness side, his looks fit but his bearing doesn’t match.

But you know who hits all of SY’s qualifications on both counts?.. yeah, once again no points for guessing, it stars with "Bing" and ends with "ge".

So: the source of Shen Yuan’s obsession with LBH-the-character is the intersection of those two factors. Like you know that old wlw joke “I can’t tell if I wanna be her or date her”? Thats Shen Yuan with Luo Binghe, but, yknow, unconsciously. He admires LBH as an epitome of masculinity, an image of a Perfect Male to strive for; he also very much finds him attractive in a gay way. 

In fact, I would even say that an important component of Binghe brainrot is that he is an acceptable target for admiration. How can SY be accused of being gay over liking a horny stallion novel? So it’s totally normal that he thinks of Binghe a lot, obviously that’s just because he looks up to him! Because Binghe is such a perfect iteration of a male stallion protagonist! Who wouldn’t want to be in his place, thinks Shen Yuan, never ever having imagined being in Binghe’s place even once. Ofc that’s only because Binghe got insane game though! Shen Yuan couldn’t hope to compare. LBH is just so admirable and sexy,, for the wives of course, the wives find him sexy, not Shen Yuan, Shen Yuan is just stating facts— etcetcetc.

Point is, LBH is a man that Shen Yuan can like without shame, because he has a whole bag of above-the-board reasons to prove that he's not liking him the wrong way. A perfect target of convergence for Shen Yuan’s conscious and unconscious thoughts (and desires).

And this is how SY ended up with the years-long hyperfix we see in the beginning of the novel. 

[accio-victuuri]

follow up clowning related to gg’s weibo post from here. a reminder first that i don’t think everything has to mean something and most of the time what they post is just plain and simple. we are clowns, so we will speculate but that doesn’t mean we have to find some candy for every content they post before we can enjoy & appreciate it. for example, we also think that the reason GG is doing these solar terms right now, while he is filming LoZ is in the synopsis of the drama, his character is the son of the “director of the Imperial Observatory of the Great Yong Kingdom” , that’s the english translation. but the key here in the original text is this word: 钦天监 [qīn tiān jiàn].

what is it? thank you to good old baidu for always having the answer:

Qin Tianjian is the signature of an official whose function is to observe celestial phenomena, calculate solar terms, and formulate calendars.

calculating solar terms. so that could be the connection he is hinting at that is somehow significant to the character he is playing. makes sense right?

this is not me washing anyone’s candy. i’m only laying out alternative explanations cause that’s how i do things. lol. the addition i have seen going around is kadian related and i’m not a kadian girlie so i was blocking it out when i first saw it. 😅😅😅

okay, now let’s go to the cpn. ⬇️⬇️⬇️

the post he made is his 1085th on weibo. oh what a good number, like a mashup between their birthdays. and the kadian that was used 191919. which means still still still. or you can concentrate on the repeated use of the number 999 ( In Chinese, nine is pronounced jiu, which also means “long lasting.” As the highest single digit, it represents the maximum level of mortal happiness, longevity, and good luck. A perfect ten is reserved for the gods. Case in point: in respect to the Heavens, the Forbidden City in Beijing has 9999.5 rooms, just short of a flawless 10,000. )

who is saying still too? forever with who? wang yibo. based on my first post about it, his use of that word 谷雨 that also came up in LTS lyrics.

another coincidence is that in the song itself, the word comes up in the 0:19 mark. 👀

commemorating the anniversary of when he followed yibo on weibo, 4/20/2018 so he posted on the eve of that day. maybe he is celebrating something else that only the two of them know and it’s not necessarily something as mundane as following a person on weibo. who knows. however, it’s on the bxg calendar so we are marking that down as a possible reason. 📝

i love this explanation tho, that goes back to that actual day years ago and what happened. it was the 5th day of filming CQL and they did not have scenes together, so why did he pay attention and followed him? he was filming the scene in the burial mounds, WWX was drunk and reminiscing about when he first met LWJ. WWX misses LWJ cause he is not there. Was XZ also missing WYB that time? to the point that he went to his weibo account and followed him?

it’s not a secret that XZ prefers it when WYB is there, not only to act with, but just there for him. plus this level of attachment on the 5th day of filming is not surprising when it comes to them.

finally, the imagery of the rain when it comes to them is one that holds some meaning. much like how we fixate on the stars and moon. photos below to show some of those relations to the rain. ☔️

and that lrlg conversation they had that went:

XZ: "I'm waiting for you"

WYB: "I'll come and have dinner with you when it rains”

XZ: "Tomorrow's meal"

WYB: "Then tomorrow"

before we end, i’ll add this quote that seems to fit the whole subject of rain:

"Because it rains so often, many important things in life seem to have happened in the rain. Those memories are now uncovered and still feel wet. Even if they dry, they are like a book soaked in water, with ripples on the paper that are difficult to calm down."

sources aside from the ones directly linked: one / two / three / four 💛

[dimepdf]

hi, i just want to say i LOVED you joseph quinn fic you posted and i wanted to know if you’d be willing to write another one 👀 maybe something with famous!reader/costar!reader?

PRETTY WOMAN. + JOSEPH QUINN

masterlist. / taglist. / any request? [ ❥ ] synopsis. ^^author's note. my goodness it's too hot to be writing smut y'all.

[ ❥ ] pairing. joseph quinn x reader

[ ❥ ] word count. 800+

[ ❥ ] genre & warnings. literally just fluff, actor!reader, Joseph simping, one sided pining, clueless reader series masterlist.

Joseph and you didn't really have much screen time together.

During the production of the newer season, your characters happened to have enough time to at least introduce yourselves and know of each other's existence.

It seemed like you two never really got to have your own chat outside of the group. Joseph almost admitted to swooning over you after the small interview you did with everyone from the older cast.

Twitter was quick to clip the way that he would sneak glances at you from the side, the way he would copy the form of your glossed lips formed into a smile.

It was always contagious for him, how he would always find some way to make you laugh with his jokes, always seeking your approval. It seemed like the entire internet knew that Joseph was pinning after you before you did. 

You thought he was just being British? You weren't the smartest when it came to the cryptic parts of other people's emotions, struggling to understand even your own.

It seemed to be just a long drawn-out game of "when will Joseph have the balls to tell you" that everyone was clued in on all the exact details for you. 

Sure, you saw the edits and the fanpages, but you also had been shipped with Joe Keery during the second season of the show. Just being used to fans shipping you with all of your co-stars at the time, you didn't think much of it, knowing that any male friend that you had would always lead to people thinking that you were romantically interested in them.

But that didn't stop Joseph from clinging onto you the best that he could, feeding the fanpages all the content that they could get from the paparazzi pictures of you two hanging out together. It wasn't the first time the public eye had fallen into a craze seeing Joseph lingering on you so closely.

During production, he would always find himself floating towards you, even without realizing it. It seemed like Joseph was always sort of seeking you out.

Navigating through the dressing rooms and sets just to venture into rooms on set that he didn't even know existed, you were always hanging out with some of the crew members, finding comfort in only a small number of people.

Joseph figured pretty early that you weren't much of a people person; even during interviews, your answers would be pretty brief and blunt.

Your personality came off as shy to others, but to him you were just a woman of few words, and God how much he begged to hear every single one, which was the reason why he would often take the twists and turns of the building's hallways just to see you in particular in your natural element.

He kind of feels like shit, almost forcing himself into your conversations, wiggling himself into your life. The last thing he ever wanted to come off as was some creep with a school girl-like crush on you, constantly swooning after every step, making you uncomfortable.

He’d end up awkwardly laughing at some joke that he couldn't quickly hear but wanted to not feel left out.

His own self-awareness was starting to eat him whole, using his script as an excuse to get rid of his fidgeting, flipping through some of the scenes like he hadn't studied his own and your lines like the back of his hand.

His eyes flickered back and forth, with only slight glazes in your direction, mostly while you were speaking.

It would be something he would do for a while, his mouth opening, trying to say something, anything, but always getting nervous and backing out to the point where other cast members would notice.

However, it's not his fault that he's so intimidated by your natural beauty, the way your dark two-toned lips formed words, or how even when you were purposefully covered in dirt and gore makeup, you always seemed to look so stunning to him. It's slowly becoming more and more embarrassing for him to just sit there and do nothing but look at you all day.

Joseph was just certain that you were the most beautiful woman he'd ever had the pleasure of working with, which already puts you completely out of his league.

And yet there you were going over your script, sitting off to the side away from anyone else in your own little world. Joseph couldn't help but smile as he watched you act out a scene almost fully with just your facial features, like you were imagining the scene all in your head. He applauded your imagination.

What Joseph doesn't expect is for your eyes to suddenly lock onto his. His posture stiffening by the millisecond, watching your shoulder roll back as your face goes blank. chill running down his spine as you stand up and walk over to him.

“Wanna go over a few scenes together?”

[ ❥ ] taglist. @prettyeyedmaureen @torynicholsgf @bucky-daddy-barnes @eldriidd @ycarlii @guitarromantic @sh3lov3dyou @lafresamilk @loveshineslikethesky @haechaniebom @vxid42 @biggestslutever-1stnamegrea-blog @spenglerslime @eddiesbitchx @slvdsjjk @stitched-mouth @misaamaneswifey @kiszkathecook @imahoforthings @kyyellaxi

@eichenhouseproperty @hotgirlsshareaccounts @ran-rap @lloromanic-png @avasjunkpile @punkrockcrocks @first-edition-dumpster-fire @batmetallady @woahhhfidget @ireadstoriesnotmakethem @notsoshynomore @the-night-owl-blr @1efleur @todoroki-slut @mjauqeen @scarlet-kazuha @lattayhottay16 @astralwaifu @prettyplant0 @imliterallygonnagetviolent @strangerthanfanfiction713 @graktung @sughcashsaiki @fzzybrain @caseket @spiritualwhore444 @xoxo-dede @sapppy-cocktail @joyrubyjanee

tap here to be added to taglist.

[shadyteacup]

dazai saying that oda would be an absolute beast (hehe) if someone truly pissed him off is so hot actually like id probably piss him off intentionally because hes definitely gorgeous when hes mad

I spy with my little eye, someone who’s into hate sex👀

Coz bestie same😩

I mean… kajshshshshsushajaiNSJAUSUSHW JUST SKSJSUSNSN

Ok, *clears throat* here goes nothing:

Oda enters the apartment silently, trying his best to not wake you up. He had had a stressful day, but someone had magically appeared at the scene of a tiresome mission, and done half his work for him. Whoever it was, wore a large black coat, not very uncommon in the mafia, and a peculiar red mask. He swore he made eye contact with his mystery saviour when they were about to leave, and they gave him a wink.

While they did do him a favour without him even asking for one, he was still worried that they might’ve been hurt. After all, they took quite a few blows. But he had to admit, they did a good job at beating up the enemy.

Just as Oda was about to walk over to the bedroom, he noticed light from inside the bathroom. He scuffled over, assuming that you had forgotten to turn it off, when he heard shuffling inside.

He slowly turned the knob, to find you sitting against the wall, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as you wrapped a bandage around your forearm.

Odasaku’s beautiful orbs widened in horror when he saw a peculiar red mask lying precariously on the edge of the sink.

“So that was you.”, he spoke, voice too low to sound even remotely friendly.

You jumped at the sudden interruption, face going pale and heart beating faster. You hadn’t realised how late it had gotten. You had wanted to clean up before he came home.

“I can explain!”, you said, hoping to ease his clenched shoulders. Whenever he got angry, his shoulders clenched, defining every single ridge and curve of his toned muscles.

“Go on. Explain.”

You gulped, and continued to ramble on about how you had been practising martial arts and had wanted to make his day easier, which is why you barged into a dangerous battlefield-

Oda punched the wall above your head, making you squeak.

He didn’t say anything afterwards, choosing to stare at you with rage filled eyes.

Your stutters were embarrassing, you thought. You didn’t know if you had suddenly gotten so dumb because of fear, or something else, as you took in the rare sight.

An angry Oda Sakunoske was a rare, but beautiful sight. The way his jaw clenched, fists tightened just enough to showcase his veins, the way his eyes seemed cold yet just so fucking sexy… You wanted him to destroy you.

“Are you going to keep staring like an idiot?”, he said, voice low and uncannily calm.

You gulped, and chose to take a risk. You nodded.

He sighed and kneeled down to your level, clasping your chin in his fingers.

“You never learn, do you.”

He suddenly tightened his grip and leaned in to whisper in your ear, “ I don’t like my partner getting hurt.”

He grabbed your neck, taking you by surprise. He didn’t squeeze hard enough to hurt you, yet made it hard to breathe.

“All you had to do was stay at home and look pretty. I provided you with everything. Didn’t I?”

You couldn’t reply, the pressure was too much for you to respond.

“Answer me.”

You whispered a timid “yes”.

“All I ever ask of you, is to stay safe.”

He inhaled deeply, before growling, “Then why, pray tell, did you put yourself in real fucking danger?”

“If you wanted some thrill, some danger, you should’ve just asked.”

He pulled you towards him, and smashed his lips onto yours, not letting go of your neck even once.

You gasped into the kiss, surprised at the way his tongue barged into your mouth, claiming it as his. You were falling short of breath, but he didn’t seem to care. He held onto you neck, and held you in place, even as you tried pushing him away. Your breathing was erratic, as you desperately needed to inhale, but he didn’t budge. You tried pawing at his chest and shoulders, but nothing worked. He maintained his iron grip onto you.

When your arms fell away from his shoulders, too weak to push him, he let go.

You gasped for air, falling forward into his broad chest, too weak to hold yourself up.

“Because now,” , he said, whispering in your ear, “you’re going to get punished.”

[layla4567]

Spoilers Loki s2 e5

I have a lot to say!!! (this will be long)

Ok first of all this scene made me laugh a lot because of how randomly they presented the original timeline of Mobius, he looks like a child playing (oh and him being a single dad it makes a lot of sense to me)

expectation:

reality:

Oh my f*cking god If I liked O.B before, now I love him with all my soul! He is not only a nerdy genius but a science fiction geek whose passion is to be a writer!!! And why didn't they let him keep his books in the bookstore?! I would gladly buy them!! Just look at his face, he needs a hug :(

AND WHY THE FUCK DID THEY NOT HELP HIM WHEN THE BOOKS DROPPED ON HIM?! IT COSTS NOTHING TO BE KIND DAMN IT

Ok, I think we've all realized that O.B's workshop is the same as the basement where he works at the TVA, maybe he was the one who created the TVA after all? btw how beautiful the photography is in this entire series.

I admit it, I laughed my ass off at this scene, I apologize (make it a meme pls lol) Honestly, this whole scene and the interactions that O.B had with Loki made me laugh (when Loki tries to control his timeslipping or when O.B electrocutes him as scientific proof)

This scene where Loki adjusts his hair and his jacket to see Mobius 👀 (he only does it with him) I wonder what the Sylki fans have to say

Remember how I said I hated Hunter X5/Brad Wolfe? Well I was wrong, there is one person I hate more, her. Girl, they're literally telling you that everything is going to shit and you don't give a damn? On top of that, when they tell you that you are selfish, do you take it naturally as if it were something to be proud of? Why are you like this? The worst thing of all is that when Loki says he wants his friends back she calls him selfish, not sweetheart, that's not being selfish. Being selfish is turning a blind eye to a problem that you mainly caused. Loki's fear of being alone is understandable and justified since he felt that way all his life and has done all the things he did for that same reason, which It's being really selfish, it's the opposite, wanting to be alone and forget your friends and not care that their timelines are falling apart. Sylvie you are a hypocrite (sorry I had to vent)

AAAAAAAAAA I'M GOING TO CRY GOD. I said it and I will always say it Loki needs a hug 😭 This scene is super moving because it shows us Loki's true purpose, he just wants his friends back, who are also people he hasn't known for a long time but who were attentive to him (btw Tom Hiddleston always shines in all his scenes )

This scene...holy shit this scene was scary. I think it's even more terrifying than Thanos' snap.

It's overwhelming how everything around her disappears in seconds leaving her in literal emptiness. There is absolutely nothing left, only threads floating in an enveloping blackness. When I saw that scene I felt empty and desolate.

OH SHIT HERE WE GO AGAIN...

NOOOOOOO MOBIUS NOT YOU (He just wanted to save his children 😭)

Loki's face when he sees his friend disappear D: (I'm having deja vu from the first season when Mobius was pruned)

Sylvie too?! Why does she disappear and Loki doesn't? (By the way, you just arrived Sylvie when you realize that everything is disappearing? really?)

Ok this is a nightmare for Loki, he was left alone and couldn't do anything to avoid all that, I think it's the most hopeless scene of the episode :( (And the way he tries to grab those threads…I'm broken)

OK HEAR ME OUT BECAUSE I HAVE A LOT TO SAY ABOUT THIS SCENE. I think the background voices help a lot with the feeling of anguish and helplessness that Loki feels, for not being able to save what he loved most, his friends. And when you feel overwhelmed by all those voices and at the end one stands out and it's Sylvie's voice saying something like what makes a Loki a Loki is the fact that we are destined to lose? That's when he screams in despair and goes back in time just a few seconds earlier and manages to control his timeslipping. And I must say that at first when I saw this scene it reminded me a lot of the scene from the movie "Ella Enchanted" when she is forced to kill the prince and she is surrounded by mirrors and begins to remember moments of her life such as when her mother told him to trust her or something like that (I don't remember the scene much, I saw it years ago lol) the point is that she refuses with all her heart to obey that order and in a moment of desperation she screams just like Loki and she says that she will no longer be obedient and drops the dagger, freeing herself from the spell. I don't know if you understand my point because I'm bad at explaining, but I think that the love he feels for his friends was what made him go back in time, that strong desire to want to make things right and that determination to say "this isn't true." It can end like this, I decide what is going to happen" (free will) I think that is what makes him finally able to control the situation, love is the most powerful force. Something similar happens in the movie "Tomorrowland" I think.

This scene is really powerful, the background music, the phrases that Loki says, the context of the scene, it is cinema. I think you don't need an action scene or scenes for a scene to be epic and move you. This is epic with so little, it is simple but effective. And the music is really the icing on the cake, it is so hopeful and gives strength to the moment when Loki returns to the TVA being able to fulfill his mission, I cried. Loki has evolved into a hero who saves the day and everyone.

And that ending??! Oh no the cliffhanger again..

Phew I know this was very long but I really needed this kind of catharsis, never has a Loki episode left me with so many emotions and beautiful things like this one. I laughed, I got excited, I cried and I was scared. I am very happy with the evolution of Loki and each episode that passes wins my heart more, I can't wait to see the next chapter. Everything is perfect in this series, the music, the settings, the actors, etc. It shows that it is made with the heart

[houseoflibra-if]

Hiiii Duven. I hope you are well and school isn't kicking your butt too much.

Since valentine's day passed and I missed my opportunity to ask this. How would the ROs feel about someone getting the jump on them and asking MC to be their valentine before they could? 👀

Yes I like making people sad

Hello! Sorry for the late reply!!

I'll be writing this in the sense that the ROs have acknowledged the fact that they are in love with you, so more angst hooray!

To add insult to injury, let's say you accept the other person's offer.

A:

A clutches a bouquet of roses close to their chest, heartbeat like thunder against the confines of their body. Their eyes shine with a glimmer of hope when they heard you were at the vicinity of House of Leo.

Perhaps today they will confess to you- the way you make them feel free, the way you steal their breath away and turn them into a stuttering mess. To make the Golden Lion of House Leo fall to your feet with love in their heart, its quite fascinating.

They hum softly, almost turning a corner when they heard your voice. They stop and hide, catching their breath as they heard another voice in your conversation. As it goes on, the light in A's eyes began to dim when they hear your laughter joined with another.

Oh, they think.

A petal falls from a rose in the bouquet.

And a lion's heart was shattered in an instant.

C:

Today was a quiet day for C- which is surprising considering how many people flock them at a time. They sigh happily, glad to be free from their social life once in a while. C decided to head out into the market square today as a means to relax.

Although, they seem to have forgotten that today was the day of love. C grumbles quietly as couples left and right smother the atmosphere with love. C stops for a rest in a quaint section of the market when someone taps their shoulder. A flower- a single rose was offered. C wanted to decline the flower when they spot someone from the corner of their eye.

There you were, a bright light amongst the sea of Valentine chaos. C felt their heart thud loudly, making them curse silently as they took the offered rose and head in your direction. But of course, fate was ever the cruel mistress to desperate souls like C.

They stopped a few feet away from you, hidden amongst the crowd as they saw you with another. A single gasp escaped their mouth. You looked happy, even more than when you were with C.

C turned around after a moment, dropping the rose to the ground.

I wish you all the best, my light.

In your love with someone whose heart is not as broken as mine.

E:

The cold one of House Aquarius felt... happy today. For the first time on Valentines day, E had secured a meeting with you. Some might call it a date, but they haven't professed their love just yet. Perhaps they'd like to tell you over tea today, and hopefully you'd be theirs.

E met with you at a quaint cafe that was unusually packed with couples today. They sigh softly, sitting down with you at a secluded spot in the cafe. Despite all the hassle, E was able to converse with you for quite some time. The smile on your face calmed their heart, thawing what was once frozen.

After some time, E had decided to tell you what they feel. They did so with upmost sincerity, a rare showcase of their raw emotions. For once, E had gained a sliver of the person they used to be, their heart on their sleave waiting earnestly for your reply.

...

They came in with a hopeful heart, and left without one at all.

N:

N was pearched atop a tree, glancing around at the bustling square down below. Their tail swishes languidly as they watch the people of the kingdom celebrate Valentines day. N doesn't completely understand what these customs mean, being raised in the deep forest.

Amongst the crowd, N spots you conversing with another- someone they don't recognise. A slight hiss escapes their lips, eyes narrowed at the scene below. A muddle of thoughts cloud their mind as they try to figure out what this person wants from you. After a moment, N grumbles and slips down the tree, heading towards the city square.

Despite their big frame, N easily maneuvers around the sea of people. They tail you as you walk with the unknown person, ears catching the words exchanged. The more they hear, the more they frown. They do not trust this unknown, who are they to stake claim on your heart?

N's eyes flit around, spotting a few flowers on the ground. They pick them up, brushing the petals clear of dirt. Despite being unknowledgable with the customs of Valentines day, they have observed enough to know that giving the person you like flowers will help with confessing your feelings.

Although, perhaps they were a moment too late- for the words shared between you and the unknown were far more precious than any flower in the world.

🙂

A very late valentines day gift, but I have finally delivered it!

Hope this is alright! 🤭

[physalian]

I don’t know if you’ve written about this, but I really like the way you explain things, so I’d like to ask.

What do you say about writing a book with different perspectives. Like.. a book starts off from one perspective. But then the whole book goes on with the other character’s perspective. (The 2nd pov belonging to the main character)

But what do you say about switching perspectives in general? How can it be executed well?👀

I kind of did this on this post about what style of POV and narration you want to do, as well as the troubles of head-hopping, but what you're asking is a bit different, I think. So, two things I’d want to know:

How long are we following the first character before we switch over?

Do you intend to make this first POV the prologue or in any way clear to the reader that this isn’t the actual protagonist?

Asking because doing this runs the risk of bait-and-switching your readers. I’m going to assume First Narrator remains a character in the story and most of the time when this happens, the opening narrator ends up being the villain/antagonist. The bait-and-switch confusion will happen if you’re not clear that this is temporary, because readers expect the first narrator to be the protagonist—even in ensemble casts where you rotate narrators. Otherwise, your readers are going to be wondering:

A) When is First Narrator getting another POV? B) Why isn’t First Narrator getting another POV? C) Why did we start with First Narrator? Couldn’t you have just worked whatever information is given in that POV somewhere else?

All that goes out the window if you make it clear this one-off narration is a prologue. Prologues kind of have no rules. They can be a message from the future narrator, like in Twilight, or a classic “reader beware this story might make you one of us” fourth-wall break.

It could be the set-up of a mystery, like in police procedural shows where episodes begin with the crime, then cut back to the main cast here to solve it. The meta-context of a prologue lets your readers know this bit of story is an outlier from the rest of the book and we should not expect something similar again, nor be disappointed and confused when it doesn’t happen.

—

Now then. Multiple narrators.

I have never written a story, except a couple one-shots, where I only have one narrator. Regardless of what POV you write in, there’s benefits to both sides. If you only have one narrator, you are locked onto that character and only that character, save for whatever visions/videos/journal entries/dream sequences the narrative allows to quasi-follow another character. This forces you to keep your protagonist active in the story and make them the avenue through which all information is given, for better or for worse.

Multiple POV, however, lends itself to feeling more… cinematic. You run the risk of your protagonist getting lost in the shuffle, but now they no longer must be present for every scene. They can be asleep or in another location or otherwise occupied. It also gives you the chance to flavor your writing with the personalities of your other narrators. I have a character in ENNS who’s autistic, and how I write his POV is very different from the rest of the cast.

It also lets your characters be biased and unreliable in how they describe things, which you can take to some very interesting ends. Narrator A might loathe Narrator B and in A’s POV, they’re just nasty toward how they interpret B’s actions. When we cut back to B, it’s a whole different ballgame.

Now you have “A said, B said, and the Truth”. It also lets you get rife with dramatic irony in a way that Single POV can’t. The amount of information the reader can learn from multiple characters that the actual characters are clueless about can be entertainingly frustrating.

Check out the POV post for a recommendation on how to go about it logistically, but generally, even with an ensemble cast, you still have a “lead” character, one that stands just a little bit higher than the others as an anchor point for the audience.

Even in TV shows like Teen Titans, where they’re very much an ensemble cast, they have entire seasons with arcs for one character, and every episode tends to have the “character of the day” as the anchor of that episode’s story. I’d go one chapter in your lead character’s POV before switching over to other narrators, for the sake of endearing your readers to your hero, instead of confusing them by cutting away too soon. Go any longer than one chapter, and you risk confusing your audience that wasn't expecting multiple POV, without banner style headings.

[gretchensinister]

Babylon 5 rewatch, S1 E5: The Parliament of Dreams

Oh, I'm glad they explained right away why there was someone coming to a 2-year old space station for a pilgrimage type thing

G'Kar this is Babylon 5 you're not going to have a peaceful dinner

Pre-recorded murder message (said like Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles)

Na'Toth! I'll be paying attention to try to see if they mention what happened to the other aide.

NAKED CENTAURI STATUE SPOTTED

😬how long ago was this Zan history...?

I would drink with Lando. I would. Against my better judgement

Aside from the on-again-off-again thing, there's an interesting worldbuilding note--humans have a "Birth Number" which can apparently be used to get in contact with someone

Oh shit Ko'Dath DIED. Man, they could have written her out less fatally. Also the Narn are apparently an Assassin's Guild-having kind of people

Alienfucker G'Kar confirmed (and well-known enough that his aide of 2 days references it lmao)

LENNIER! Baby boy. Baby.

Did they send like a baby monk into the middle of Babylon 5???

Bug bug bug bug bug (I'm so glad of this practical effect creature)

Sinclair at the Minbari ceremony--very important to remember for later developments 👀

I'm sad that Catherine and Sinclair seem to have the kind of relationship that can't mellow out

Of course it was the courier as soon as he said "the danger is closer than you think"

Measuring in feet among aliens because This is Mass Market Television (I totally understand this and agree with it to a large extent because it's important for the audience to understand what's going on right away)

G'Kar can throw hands! (As can Na'Toth! Fun 3rd day on the job, beating your boss.)

Sinclair isn't Minbari-married though, it's actually much weirder

As a kid I really enjoyed this last scene (and I appreciate that the writers didn't assert that in the 23rd century there would be a single dominant religion/non-religion among humans), but it does raise the sci-fi issue where non-human aliens are often presented as having singular cultures while obviously humans have a lot. I'm not going to get angry about it, but it is something that I'm always going to keep in mind if/when I write my own multi-species science fiction

[ytsunodabrainrotbaybee]

Bad But Good

-> Freakin Bad by Xdinary Heroes

Guanyu x K-band fem!reader.

Faceclaim: Blackswan’s Fatou

In which Y/N releases a more suggestive MV for her first single, featuring Formula 1 driver Zhou Guanyu. It has more mixed reception. However I’m not going to get into the more intense K-pop stan mentality.

K-Band ODESSY’s Y/N releases controversial MV featuring suggestive scenes with Formula 1 Driver Zhou Guanyu.

Netizens say it is too early on in her career and it would be too bold of a move to release something so scandalous.

“We support any endeavors our artists decide to go through with” Berzerker Ent. CEO Yoo Sunghoon states. He declines to comment further.

Showing up to the Hungary Grand Prix would definitely be a decision. Going as Alfa Romeo’s guest would be even more of a decision. Considering the media storm your new music video has struck up. Your company and Alfa Romeo saw it more as a business decision, you saw it more as a chance to experience a childhood dream.

You dreamt as a kid what it would be like on the grid walk, and then you stood face to face with Martin Brundle on said grid walk.

“So nice to see you Y/N,” he said into his mic before pointing it towards you.

“Yes sir, you as well. I’m so excited to be here” you leaned towards him, making sure your voice was heard over the crowds around you.

“I’ve seen your new music video,” he started, “I assume you’re here supporting Zhou?” He flashed a cheeky grin as he turned the mic back to you, you returned a grin of your own before speaking.

“Of course, he’s a good friend to me. And I do hope everyone has a good and safe race.”

That took up the time Martin had for you, before he moved on in search of Kevin Magnussen, and your manager led you towards where Alfa Romeo was setting up.

You were ushered in next to Guanyu, who didn’t pay any mind to you as he set himself up for the race. You watched the car, the drivers, mechanics, and marshals rushing around you.

Guanyu finally looked up, smiling as he recognized you. The two of you shared a quick, perhaps manufactured moment, as cameras around you went off in bursts before you were again ushered away and towards the garages.

alfaromeostake

alfaromeostake Amazing race day! Thank you yourinstagram for coming to support us.

formulawhat I see what you’re doing.

ynfannn Putting a picture of Zhou on the post thanking Y/N?

formulawhat I’m a fan. Personally. 👀

yourinstagram Thank you for inviting me! It was a dream. Everyone was so sweet!

formulaonesnob Quit inviting these stupid celebrities! Doubt she’s ever even heard of F1

ynbbg normally I’d agree, but Dude her first predebut picture is of her with Michael Schumacher.

ffformula oh my god ynbbg Petition to get her a picture with Mick

Inside the Alpha Romeo garages left you pretty well out of the public eye. No one gave you any attention as Guanyu pulled himself out of his car and made his way straight to you for a hug.

It felt normal. Everyone patting Guanyu on the back as they passed. Not a camera in sight to catch him taking his sweet time to let you go.

Once the two of you did separate, he gave your hand a quick squeeze before he left for his media obligations. You were shown to their hospitality room, also away from the public eye. The few photographers who did pass through never looked your way.

yourinstagram

yourinstagram Thank you so much alfaromeostake for helping a lifelong dream come true, being able to watch the race from the garage was surreal. And thanks again to zhouguanyu24 for all you did for me during shooting! Included is Schumacher circa 2004, because this gp is the anniversary of when I met him as a very small child.

alpharomeostake Can’t wait for next time!

Comments are limited

[thefringespod]

Finally got smart enough to make my #AudioDramaSunday list ahead of time so I wouldn't forget anything for once! We're gonna start today with the newest Magus Protocol episode which was phenomenal. Cole Weavers wrote this one and I just adore his writing. Also: Augustus is here 👀

Early access for the newest ep of @souloperatorpod was this week and y'all have a TREAT waiting for you tomorrow. Tot continues to astound me with her many talents and we also get to meet a new character who I'm already in love with

@tellnotalespod has brought us back to Julia and Riley who are overworking themselves (especially Riley. Let them sleep.) I love getting to hear from them in these mini eps but they DO make me want to shake Leo even harder Leo please talk to your friends please

@camlannpod episode 2 released this week and my gods it was so much fun. A blend of deep and emotional scenes and comedy (I'm still thinking about "The CW lied to me") I love every character with my whole heart and have been loving all the theories on tumblr about the show

New @innbetween was so sweet I love hearing the Lowlifes become actual friends. Phoebe thinking that everyone wanted her to leave squeezed my heart so hard and everyone insisting she stay because she was the one that they wanted for the quest??? Just so so good

@somewhereohio has once again knocked me flat with this episode. The worldbuilding around Jasmine and what's going on with her memories is incredible! I am an Orange Splice stan 1st and person 2nd. Also the Nadia/Alex scene breaks my heart because I know how they end 😭.

New Technomancy Project was SO GOOD!! And I was FUCKING RIGHT!!! I said this before but I love having all of them play Belial's game this time around and I don't think there's a single EPO agent who didn't make me cry this ep. The Technomancy Project continues to kick ass

Caught up on last weeks @thesiltverses and gods it fucked me up (affectionate) B Narr does such a fantastic job with Faulkner. I love him. I hate him. I want him to get whats coming to him & I want to protect him from it at the same time. B's performance knocks me flat every time

There was another special episode of @wakeofcorrosion this week featuring the Fringes' very own @totcoc0a and @taytayheyhey! I will never forgive them for what they did to my heart <3 Shaun Pellington wrote a killer script and deserves none of the blame even if it did break me

Continuing to make my way through the Storage Papers this week and episodes 13-19 were VERY good. I said "Nope, don't like that" out loud multiple times while listening to 19 which is the exact reaction you want from a horror pod.

This isn't a new episode listen but @wpwcpod has announced their existence and cast and im SO FUCKING EXCITED!! Not only do I love CL Hendry's writing but it will also feature the Fringes' very own Ollie Bannerman and @chainofbeing Cai Gwilym Pritchard I'm so hyped

Also not a new episode listen but Athan (creator of The Grotto) has announced that his album is coming out on March 29! If you've listened to The Grotto then you know Athan writes killer music. And if you dont listen to the Grotto: DO IT GO LISTEN RIGHT NOW ITS SO GOOD

Here on the Fringes we're preparing for the second half of the season! Episode 19 is available RIGHT NOW at patreon.com/PineTreePods and will be available to the public this Wednesday! Also gearing up to finish the last 3 episodes of season 3 which I'm super excited for

And over on @forgedbondspod the first half of the show is written! The cast has been thrown into a discord and has access to scripts now which is super exciting, I can't wait for yall to hear what's going to come from the first 24 eps

And that's all for this week! It's a long audiodrama Sunday post but there's just. So much good stuff going on. Every day I'm so grateful to exist in this audiodrama space and to share my work with yall <3