#why the fuck did nobody tell me drawing was easy when you use reference???

[tectoniccyborg]

Newest drawing!! I will never not draw Ashley where I can

[friendlystarfruit]

male tsundere reader x Gorou fluff

Fluff but I’m very open to add a smut chapter >=)

Summary:

This is a male tsundere reader , sister of my other reader , so he has doggy ears and tail.

You find it hard to get your feelings out, you can't be a big abrupt and brash but are soft inside ,you are madly in love with Gorou and are now dating.

You find him wounded and take him to a clinic , while at his bedside Gorou dreams of battle and the words "Her excellency" slip from his lips in his sleep , you think he is having an erotic dream and panic, how will he calm you down ?

This is part of a series of reader x Itto but you don't have to read other parts of the series to get. Basically male reader is sister of female reader. 

https://archiveofourown.org/series/2720815 I have a whole series not all of it have doodles. Content warnings are in place for any smut chapters (= 

Notes:

I like to draw you and your sister but please imagine them as you wish.

Besides you having curled tail,pointy ears and being short , reader is up to your imagination (although I still can’t help doing reader doodles.

I just enjoy illustrating even though it isn’t necessary and my illustration skills are meh but slowly improving , I’m used to real life painting of references so when it comes to drawing with limited reference or by manipulating many references I’m not great. If drawings aren't in story I'll be adding them soon.

Here is how I imagine him.

Work Text:

You where just enjoying the sunshine strolling around thinking how lucky you are to have such a sweet and tender boyfriend, a man who would always listen, melt away your worries just by looking into your eyes, the man was the biggest comfort to you, he brought you out of your shell and loved you despite your bad temper and rougher exterior.

If you where ever to lose him, that would be it……you heard a groan and veered over to see a terrible fight , your lover, your soul mate bleeding limping over to you.

“What happened !!!!” you panic “There have been bad people around here , bandits I”

“You fucking idiot why did you take on bandits on your own!!! !!”

“I was just mountain climbing , and they shot at me I – look I got away but I’m hurt”

“Gorou “ you cry as he falls to his knees “I’ll get you to a clinic”

You are a mess , terrified to lose Gorou......... that amazing man.....kind, sweet and a strong and committed to honour......the man that makes you feel loved , wanted , who understands you.......if he was to ....the thought of it is like an icicle being puncturing  through your chest.       

Gorou is fixed up , he’s wrapped up in bandages and resting in bed.

You don’t leave his side.

“The last time I was here I had a less serious injury , my tail , your sister was in worse condition , you know the bandit attack”

“bandit what???? My sister” you panic.

“I guess she never told you , didn’t want to worry you , I feel I’m to blame she wanted me to train her and I couldn’t bring myself to tell her she was such a bad fighter”

“Hey-*cough* there is something I- wanted to ask”

Gorou looks at you concerned “What is it”

“You like girls as well as guys right? Somebody told me you liked you sister”

“Oh you have no need to worry my love, yes I found your sister to be cute but we are just friends I assure you, you are the only one for me “ Gorou smiles.”Nobody could replace you or take my heart away,”

“I just……..”

“Listen you have my full confidence , I love your sister as a friend the more I got to know her the more that was the case!! It was you I truly fell for not just because you are handsome but because you melt my heart , we get on so well and I love you, for the longest time i distracted  myself from love....but then I- I felt like I wanted somebody and you where the perfect man, so full of love but needing somebody to aid you to express it , I love to nurturer you and I love you with my whole soul    “

“How do you just say that so easy” You fumble.

Gorou laughs “You’ve said similar things to me “

“Yeah but……..you just are able to say it all the time so smoothly “

Gorou smiles and leans over to kiss you but he winces in pain.

“Gorou you need your rest!!!!!!!!!”

“GOROU !!!” it was your sister “Look who I brought to cheer you up!!!”

“Oh an Onikabuto beetle how …lovely heh”

“Yup I give him a nurse's hat , don’t tell Itto ok?, he doesn’t like me dressing them up , this is his beetle “The shield “  I think he is the his biggest beetle Itto has caught but he is very docile , check him out bro!!”

“Get that thing away from me” you hiss at your sister “Can’t you see Gorou is in no condition to be playing with bugs”

“It’s ok!!!, that was very sweet of you to bring The Sheild to see me”

“Yo Gorou wanted to see how ya where doing………..

“-is that my beetle!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“eeeeeeeeep” Your sister says.

“babe …..what is he wearing…….we talked about this”

“but it was his birthday!!!!!!!! And he was gonna cheer up Gorou “

“I told you to quit babying em he is a warrior  !!! did any of the local kids see?”

“no”

“phew !!!”

“Ugh can you two quit being idiots and leaves us alone” You hiss.

“Hey – I’m here to get insight on the bandits , me and my gang will make short work of them don’t you worry” Itto boosted and he petted you.

“Hey hands off “

“What I’m being friendly? Ugh ya gonna keep up being grumpy ears, geez”

“Leave the bandits to the real authorities bonehead”

“HEY”

"And sis what this about you getting hurt by bandits you never told me!! " You growl "I'm your big brother you are meant to tell me that"

Itto laughs thinking of your size "big brother"

"Hey I'm still taller than her you know"

"You know I'm the one who saved the day when your sis got herself into trouble"

"I'm sorry bro I didn't want to worry you"

Gorou sighs “If you don’t mind, I think I need my rest”

“Of course babe !!!” You say you hold Gorou’s hand

“heyyy you behave yourself “ Itto laughs

You immediately let go of Gorou’s hand embarrassed and glare at the big laughing Oni ,then you glare to your sister to get rid of him only to look at her  petting a freaking insect.

She finally catches your face and you signal to get Itto out.

“Come on Itto “ she coos “Let’s get The Shield home”

“an we an’t having him in that hat !!!” Itto removes the hat from his beetle “Hah there look at those eyeballs , he’s a tough one!! I know he’ll be my ticket to returning to beetle fighting, I WILL BE UNSTOPPABLE”

You roll your eyes at Itto and your sister, and sigh seeing them leave is a relief.

Gorou has already fallen asleep , his tail gently swishes and he clings onto it cuddling it, “ugh how can he be this cute “ you think to yourself.

You stay with him watching him sleep , watching him hold his tail and stroke it, this amazing cute man he is all yours, how could you be anymore in love with him…he is all your and nobody elses-

“Her excellency !!” Gorou murmurs in his sleep.

“Who the fuck is her excellency !!” you hiss watching Gorou smile.

“ugh the priestess …….” You groan.

You can just picture it.

“Oh General ……..you fought so well come into my chambers and I will reward you “

“Oh your excellency…….you have my outer most respect and those thigh highs are just!!! , oh I apologise I should not make such comments!!!”

“Oh General , I wear them everyday hoping you’d glance at my legs, I am smitten with  you”

 “ come , into my chambers I want to show you something....and I want you to do something to please me further ””

“Yes your excellency it would be such an honour , I will do all my power to please you”

“It can’t be......................he’s dreaming of her????”

“WHO DOES SHE THINK SHE IS!!!!!!!!” You hiss your ears pulled back “if she thinks she can come in with thigh highs and flowing angelic hair …………and UGH she will regret this!!” You shout to yourself , clearly worked up.

“Getting into my boyfriends dreams………can’t she see he is fucking ill ,I mean ugh dammit!!” You drop your head and tears stream down your cheeks “He’s mine……..you can’t take him from me…..”

Gorou awakes at the noise “my love what is wrong”

“You are , you idiot !!! am I don’t good enough for you huh?”

Gorou is alarmed and confused “I don’t understand”

“oh you don't understand? “your excellency “

“What about her ?”

“Don’t play dumb with me you where talking about her in your sleep, as she better than me....”

“Oh……I was dreaming of our battle together !!! did you think I was?”

“Shut up” you sob.

“Get over here!!!" Gorou smiles

You embrace him , Gorou hugs you tight , you feel embarrassed , Gorou babying you like this , you wear the pants in this relationship after all…..but……..his warm hug it’s just what you need”

“You have no need to worry, I have eyes only for you!! And you are somebody I respect!! My alpha remember?”

“Ugh for you to see me like this…….” You sigh.

“My love , feeling vulnerable is not a crime , I don’t think any less of you of a lover or a man”

You sit back beside the bedside and wipe your tears “I wanted to kick her ass”

“Well no offence but I don’t think you’d win that fight and  I know you wouldn’t harm the priestess ” Gorou laughed.

“Yeah I know but by the way  I can hold my own!!!” You puff.

Gorou smiles “I know ……you don’t have to pick fights all the time and you have no reason to pick fights over me, I love you , just seeing your face is enough to make my heart beat faster, everyday I see you I am filled with joy and love!!! And every time I am away I count the minutes that I will be with you again” Your heart feels swollen , you feel a calm overcome you, a feeling of acceptance and love; reassurance.

“ *cough eh-hum I – I feel the same about you……”

Gorou smiles “ I know it , I can always feel it even when you call me "idiot” "

“You know me too well…..” You smile at Gorou lost in his aqua eyes “and I will make sure the bastard’s who did this to you PAY…..”

“Don’t go fighting them” Gorou worries.

“No but I’ll make sure they are caught”

“Maybe Itto’s gang could-”

“No…..not them” You protest “besides the last thing that dumbass oni needs is another reason to feel important and better than everyone”

Gorou laughs and you smile at him.

“eh…..thanx babe you always make me feel better……”

“The pleasure is mine”

“Now get your rest ok? I will make sure nobody disturbs my pup!!” You protectively stroke Gorou’s head and he closes his eyes.

You sigh and look at the window , your worries begin to melt away because of how he makes you feel. 

[duuhrayliegh]

A Friend of Yours - pt. 2

pairing: bucky x reader

summary: reader meets up with Bucky, Sam and Zemo to figure out this Flag Smasher drama

word count: 6386

warnings: canon lvl violence? SPOILERS FOR TFATWS, (it’s the episodes with yn in it, like rlly) language throughout the whole thing, i think that’s it.

a/n: i’m actually really proud of this guys. there is a part three that has WAY more Bucky x YN content that’ll be posted in a few days <3 i hope y’all love this!!

i just want to remind y’all that this started out as a request from @dramaticwittch it won’t let me tag you for some reasons babes :((

be sure to read A Friend of Yours - pt 1

A Friend of Yours - pt. 3 is up too!!!

p.s.: my requests and tag lists are open!!

check out my other writing here!

xoxo ray <3

You had the same contacts as Sharon, so finding the Three Musketeers was no problem. It baffled you that Sharon had access to satellites. Makes you wonder what she was doing during those five years you were gone. When you got to their safehouse, you were impressed to say the least. It was nice, cute little pillars next to the dining area, some couches, just enough to make it livable. One thing that struck you as strange was that it was also empty, they weren’t there.

“Fuck it.” You dropped your bag onto the dining table and walked over to the kitchen area. You opened several cabinets, searching for alcohol that you could drown your frustrations in. You found an unopened wine bottle, releasing a little cheer, you popped the cork and brought the bottle to your nose. A sweet plum scent invaded your senses, grabbing a glass and pouring it full for yourself before re-corking the bottle. You grasped the cup walking to the stained glass windows on the opposite side of the room. You could hear footsteps approaching the doorway, then the door being forced open. Muffled conversations were taking place during their entrance.

“Well, I got nothin’. No one’s talkin’ about Donya.” Bucky said as he waltzed into the room. Sam followed closely behind him, Zemo immediately going to the kitchen.

“Yeah, Karli’s the only one who’s fighting for them.” You said, startling the pair of men who were now lounging on the couches. “Aren’t you supposed to be good at this?” You dropped next to Bucky, offering him a sip of your plum flavored wine.

“She’s not wrong.” Bucky shot Sam a look, questioning his thought process. “Look, for five years these people were welcomed into countries that have kept them out using barbed wire. There were houses and jobs.” Sam sighed, “Folks were happy to have people around to help them rebuild.” You stopped listening halfway through Sam’s speech, thinking of Sharon. You only refocused when Bucky placed his metal hand on your knee, giving you a look, asking if you were okay.

“That little girl. What’d she tell you?” Bucky asked after you nodded at him. His face never left yours, until Zemo approached the three of you on the couch. He was holding a tray with a clear teapot and cups. He placed it on the coffee table, stepping back and clutching a cup for himself.

“The funeral is this afternoon.” Zemo was always one for the dramatics, so you’re sure that he had something else up his sleeve. Bucky squeezed your knee and you knew he was trying to calm himself.

“You know the Dora’s coming for you any minute. In fact, they’re probably lurking outside right now. Keep talking.”

“Leaving you to turn on me once we get to Karli.” He made a noise of acknowledgement, “I prefer to keep my leverage.” Bucky hauled himself off the couch to stand in front of the Baron. You gaze flicked to Sam’s, unsure of what Bucky was going to do. Bucky puffed his chest out, clenching his jaw as he gripped Zemo’s teacup and chunked it at the concrete wall behind him. Zemo flinched as Bucky began talking to him.

“You wanna see what someone can do with leverage?” Sam stood quickly, trying to diffuse the situation before it escalated.

“Take it easy, Buck. Don’t engage him.” You were taking a drink of your wine, as you observed Zemo’s actions.

“Watch out, he’s going to extort you and do that idiotic head tilt thing.” Zemo’s eyes darted to your figure on the couch as he straightened his head. Sam left to make a call, you assumed Sharon and Bucky followed closely behind him. Zemo offered you cherry blossom tea to which you declined by holding up your wine glass. As Bucky left the room, the Baron released a sigh of relief causing you to laugh at his actions.

“You’re really scared of him, aren’t you?” You teased the man who was now glaring at you.

“If you have made him as angry as I have then you would be too.” You shrugged your agreement. You hadn’t made Bucky mad, and you definitely hadn’t been a part of reactivating him as the Winter Soldier to reach your goals.

“Yeah, well you’re a dumbass, so.” You got up and walked to where Bucky and Sam were gathered. Sam’s phone was still pressed to his ear, but you could tell you were catching the tail-end of his conversation. You could hear Sharon’s voice over the phone talking about the Power Broker. In all your years of living and conducting business in Madripoor, you never tangled with the Power Broker. That didn’t mean anything, it was just suspicious because of how successful your operation with Sharon was.

“What’s the plan?” You asked, dumping the rest of your wine in the sink, casting a glance at an appalled Zemo. “It was shit wine.”

“Zemo has a contact that can show us where the funeral is, and that’s all we got.” You nodded before looking at Bucky and Sam.

“Well, what are we waiting for?”

**********************************

You were walking down the cobblestone roadway with the Three Musketeers when a voice shouted at you from the stairway before you. “Karli Morgenthau is too dangerous for you guys to be pulling this shit!” A scruffy looking man approached you. Both him and his partner were clad in tactical gear, the scruffy one’s resembling a Walmart version of Steve’s Cap suit. Bucky spread his arms out.

“How’d you find us now?” The man’s partner responded to Bucky with equal annoyance.

“Come on, man. You really think two Avengers can walk around Latvia without drawing attention?” As he got closer you could read Hoskins on his vest.

“No more keeping us in the dark.” Scruff said before anyone else could fire back. He stopped walking in front of Zemo, effectively stopping your forward motion. “You can start by telling us why you broke him out of prison.” You were walking just behind Bucky to his right and you watched him cock his head back, his voice taking on a sarcastic tone.

“He did that himself, technically.” Scruff’s face contorted as Bucky talked.

“This better be an unbelievable explana--” Scruff’s voice was cut off by Sam’s hand bumping into his chest.

“Hey, take it easy before it gets weird.” Zemo began talking over the group around him, explaining what was going on. You remained quiet, observing the interaction between Scruff and the Three Musketeers. Clearly, the Three Musketeers did not like him and so you assumed he was the ‘new Cap,’ whatever that means. The group began walking again with Zemo leading the pack.

“Alright good, we’ll move in fast. Take her by surprise.”

“No, I wanna talk to her alone.”

“I’m not losing her again.” Scruff was insistent but so was Sam.

“Look, the person closest to her just died, she’s vulnerable.” The group had stopped walking again, focusing on the conversation. You could see the wheels turning in Hoskin’s head as Sam spoke. Scruff was not having any part of what Sam was suggesting.

“What? No. Wait, no! No. Stop. Hold on. Stop, okay?” Scruff ran ahead in front of the others, stopping the forward motion, once again. “I think we’re way past reasoning with her, unless you forgot the fact that she blew up a building with people still in it.” This was news to you, deciding to stay offline in hopes of remaining under the radar. The back and forth continued until Scruff turned to Bucky.

“You gonna let him do this?” Bucky tilted his head at the man. “Are you gonna let your partner walk into a room with a Super Soldier alone?”

“He’s dealt with worse. And he’s not my partner.” You knew Bucky was referring to himself in Winter Soldier mode. Your heart hurt for him to have to go through this again with some clueless nobody.

“And last I checked, he’s a grown ass man who makes his own decisions, Scruff.” Your arms crossed over your chest. This had been the first time you spoke since Scruff and Hoskin’s had arrived.

“Who the hell is this?” Scruff pointed at you. “You break her out of prison too?” Sam interjected before you could sass back.

“I used to counsel soldiers dealing with trauma, okay? This is right in my wheelhouse.” Scruff’s gaze hadn’t left your face. He continued staring at you as he countered Sam’s claim.

“Yeah, I know. And I know those soldiers, which is why I know this is a bad idea.” Hoskin’s hand came up to rest on Scruff’s shoulder.

“Wait, John. If he can talk her down, it might be worth a try.” Scruff was not happy with Hoskin's agreement to the situation. Scruff said something to Zemo, who mostly ignored him, acknowledging the little girl waiting under an archway. The group began moving toward her and you focused on Bucky.

“Hey, you okay?” He just nodded at you, denying you the pleasure of a verbal response. You’ll take what you can get. Bringing up the rear of the group, you entered the factory type building last. The little girl pointed up some stairs, and Zemo translated. Sam walked up behind the girl, making him way up the stairs as Scruff handcuffed Zemo to a metal contraption.

“You got ten minutes. Then we’re doing things my way.” Scruff yelled after Sam, who darted his eyes at you and Bucky, a silent instruction to the both of you. Scruff rested his weight against a table, holding Steve’s shield in front of him. His breathing became increasingly worrisome, an ode to how stable he was in the moment.

“You aren’t looking so hot over there, Scruff.” Bucky shot you a warning look, but it didn’t deter you. “The government is really harping on you to get this shit contained, aren’t they?” Scruff pushed off the table, bringing the shield around his back. You were leaning against a pillar near Zemo and Scruff made his way over to you. His face was about six inches from yours as he spoke.

“Do you know who I am?” He was trying to intimidate you, which clearly wasn’t working.

“Do I look like I give a shit?” Scruff’s eyes darted over your frame, a look of recognition washing over his features.

“I know who you are.” He glanced at the clock across the room before looking back at you. “I could arrest you right now. Enemy of the State, standing before me right here.”

“We’re not in that state, dumbass. Technically, you don’t have jurisdiction.” The corner of your mouth raised in a smirk as Bucky called your name. You pushed off the pillar behind you to stand next to Bucky, who was leaning against the railing of the stairs.

“Don’t antagonize him, Y/N.” Bucky berated you, to which you shrugged a shoulder. Scruff began pacing back and forth, frustration getting the better of him.

“It hasn’t been ten minutes, John. Just sit tight.” Hoskin’s tried to calm Scruff down.

“Don’t do that. Don’t patronize me.” He shot a look at Hoskins, then the clock, then Bucky, making a decision in his head. “I’m goin’ in.” Bucky rose to his full height, not allowing Scruff to get by him. “This is all really easy for you, isn’t it? All that serum runnin’ through your veins.” You watched Bucky’s jaw clench, you could see the anger bottling up. “Barnes, your partner needs backup in there.” Bucky was an immovable fortress of solitude. “Do you really want his blood on your hands?” Oh shit.

You watched as Bucky’s resolve faded, allowing Scruff to step around him. Bucky was tired of being the cause of other people’s deaths. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust that Sam could take care of himself, he just didn’t want the burden any longer. He was finally free of being a murder machine, finally able to rinse his hands clean. Scruff knew just which buttons to push to get what he wanted.

Scruff busted into the memorial site, guns blazing. You trailed behind Bucky who was fighting against Hoskin’s to try to reach Scruff. Karli and Sam were previously engaged in peaceful conversation, until Scruff announced that Karli was under arrest. Betrayal laced her features as she looked at Sam, defending herself against Scruff advances. She threw Scruff’s weight into Sam, launching them both into the table behind. Bucky took off after her, chasing her through the halls. You crouched next to Sam, making sure he was okay.

Sam recovered quickly, racing down a different corridor leading to another stairway. You followed close behind, allowing Sam to attempt to navigate the area around you. The two of you eventually went down enough of the wrong corridors, that you met up with an equally confused Bucky. You head perked up at the sound of gunshots somewhere in the building. Not sure who the culprit was you turned to Bucky and Sam, who looked just as panicked.

The three of you retraced your steps to find Scruff standing over a knocked-out Zemo with crushed vials wetting the floor. Scruff tossed a glance back at Hoskins and then one to the three of you on the staircase landing. “What did we miss?” Sam directed his question at Scruff, who didn’t dignify him with an answer. Scruff nodded to Hoskins before walking away from the rest of you.

“Thanks for your help, asshole!” You shouted after him.

*******************************

Hauling Zemo’s deadweight back to the safehouse was a job that you and Sam decided Bucky was fit for, being a super soldier and all. Through much complaining and whining on Bucky’s part, he did get him to the safehouse relatively injury free, dumping his body on the couch, jostling Zemo just enough to wake him up. Bucky promptly left the apartment after dropping Zemo off, going to clear his head was the explanation you got as he left.

You huffed, discontent with everything that was going on. You walked to the kitchen, wetting a rag and tossing it at Zemo. “For your head, cover your eyes, it’ll help.” You then popped a few cubes of ice in a glass and poured whiskey over it, handing it to Zemo as well, tapping your temple at him. You went back to the kitchen, jumping onto the counter, letting your legs dangle over the edge. Sam had pulled out a laptop and was typing furiously.

“Were you ever offered it?” You knew Zemo wasn’t talking to you, but to Sam, who hadn’t looked up from the laptop screen. You zoned out of their conversation, trying to decide what Sam was sending Sharon now. “Sam, you can’t hold out hope for Karli.” This made Sam pause and turn to face Zemo, who continued talking. “No matter what you saw in her, she’s gone. And we cannot allow that she and her acolytes become yet another faction of gods amongst real people.” Zemo removed the rag from his eyes, locking gazes with Sam. “Super Soldiers cannot be allowed to exist.”

“Isn’t that how god’s talk?” You interjected, then you asked quietly, “And if that’s how you feel, what about Bucky?” It was a valid concern. “Blood isn’t always the solution.” Bucky waltzed into the apartment, stripping his jacket from his shoulders, giving a perfect view of his two contrasting arms.

“Something’s not right about Walker.”

“You don’t say.” Sam quipped, closing his laptop and facing Bucky.

“Well, I know a crazy when I see one. Because I am crazy.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

“Shouldn’t have given him the shield.” Bucky jabbed at Sam, sticking to his guns on this.

“I didn’t give him the shield.” Sam was exasperated in his delivery.

“Well, Steve definitely didn’t.” You turned to Bucky.

“Hey. Back off, Buck.” Bucky was going to say something in reply when the door burst open again. In walked Scruff and Hoskins, all gung-ho about something.

“Alright. That’s it. Let’s go.” He pointed a finger at a now standing Zemo. The whole room began shifting, Sam in front of Scruff, Zemo to the side out of direct view, and Bucky to your other side, glass in hand. “I’m now ordering you to turn him over.” Sam stopped before Scruff, annoyed.

“Let’s be clear, shield or no shield, the only thing you’re runnin’ in here is your mouth.” You added from your spot on the countertop. Scruff pointed his finger at you.

“And I’m taking her too.” Bucky stepped in front of you, blocking Scruff’s view of you. You placed your hand on his left shoulder, letting him know you were still there.

“I had Karli and you overstepped. He’s actually proven himself useful today. We’re gonna need all hands on deck for whatever’s comin’ next.” Scruff puffed out his chest, attempting to intimidate Sam.

“How do you want this conversation to go Sam, huh?” He stepped back slightly, “Should I put down the shield? Make it fair?” Taking on a condescending tone with Sam, making your brows raise. Suddenly a spear lodged itself in the pillar next to Scruff’s face, all eyes darted towards the woman across the room. Two more warriors walked in, holding spears by their sides and Bucky looked resigned. This was new territory for you, who the fuck are these people? One of the women stepped forward near Scruff. She spoke at Bucky in a language that sounded vaguely familiar to you.

“Release him to us now.” Scruff ignored her instruction, deciding to step towards her, holding his hand out for her to shake.

“Hi. John Walker. Captain America.” You scoffed loudly.

“No, you’re not!” You received a look from Sam at your comment.

“Let’s put down the pointy sticks and we can talk through this, huh?” Sam stepped forward, warning Scruff against tangling with the Dora Milaje.

“The Dora Milaje don’t have jurisdiction here.”

“The Dora Milaje have jurisdiction wherever the Dora Milaje find themselves to be.” Your hand balled into a fist, quickly covering your mouth.

“That’s a burn, Scruff!” You yelled like the little shit you are.

“Y/N! Cut it out.” Sam snapped. Scruff, for some reason, thought it was a good idea to place hands on the Dora he was speaking to. She quickly brought her spear up to force his hand off her shoulder, then bringing it downward into the back of his knee and finally bouncing it off of the front of his helmet. She launched her foot into his chest while he was dazed, sending him backward into the spear behind him and face planting on the ground below. Scruff recovered quickly, sliding his arm into the straps of the shield to protect himself from the spear coming at his body.

The three warriors began fighting with Scruff and Hoskins, much to yours and Bucky’s delight. Sam backed up to stand next to Bucky, who crossed his arms over his chest. Sam looked at Bucky.

“We should do something.” You had just barely heard Sam say it when you and Bucky yelled at the same time.

“Looking strong, John!” “You’re doing great, sweetie!” Bucky gave you a look at your term of endearment, not understanding that it was a patronizing use of the word. The warrior battling Scruff was about to drive her spear into him, until Bucky gripped the handle, stopping her attack.

“Ayo!” Bucky yelled at her. “Ayo! Let’s talk about this!” Ayo had effectively yanked Bucky towards her body, then throwing him backwards. Sam stopped another warriors spear before it drove into a downed Hoskins. The last warrior threw her spear at Scruff, trapping the shield against the table. She began her approach to him and Sam yelled your name to help him.

You got down with a groan, unhappy that you had to save this asshat. All movement was stopped when you heard a metallic thud against the floor. Your head snapped to a now one armed Bucky, his vibranium arm laying on the ground. You released an audible gasp as Ayo walked away from Bucky, his blue eyes wide. Everything around you faded as you watched a broken Bucky, kneel to pick up his metal appendage. Your eyes flicked to Sam, who was just as shocked as you.

“Did you know they could do that?” Sam gestured to Bucky’s immobile arm.

“No.” He swung his arm around once to restart the systems. You heard Hoskins checking on Scruff’s wounded ego, but that didn’t matter to you.

“Bucky. Are you okay?” He avoided your question, grabbing his jacket and telling Sam that Zemo had gotten away. You held your arms out in front of you, what the fuck? Are you the enemy now? You followed after them, not sure where you were going. You got closer to Bucky, grabbing his left arm and yanking him back to you, making his attention be on you for a second or two. “I’m talking to you, dickwad.” His eyes hardened as you continued. “I don’t know what the fuck just happened back there, I’m assuming that has to do with you not being the Soldier anymore. I don’t really care. What I care about is if you’re okay or not.” You stopped walking, still holding his arm.

“What do you want from me, Y/N?” Bucky inquired.

“I want you to fucking talk to me. I’m here for you to unload on.” His brows scrunched and you realized what you said. “Oh my god, not like that, sicko. Well, I mean--”

“Y/N.” Bucky smiled at your humor.

“There, see? How hard was it for you to smile. Just talk to me. I’m making sure you’re okay. Don’t shut down, I hate it when people do that.” Bucky went to say something else when the both of your attentions shifted to a concerned Sam.

“She said what?” A pause, “Right. Hold on, hold on. I know, I know.” He sighed loudly, “Listen, pack an overnight bag and take the boys.” He tried to calm the other person down. You began walking again, Bucky asking quietly.

“What happened?” Sam dropped the phone to his collarbone.

“Karli called Sarah. She threatened my nephews.” Bringing it back up to his ear, he continued. “Go somewhere safe. Only pay cash, alright? Let me know when you get there.” You turned your attention to your surroundings. The bland streets offered little to no security, but they did give too many vantage points to count. “She wants me to come alone.”

“I’m coming with you.” Bucky fired back, not changing his mind about this one.

“Yay, more friends. She’ll love that. Where we going now?”

*********************************************

You’ve never seen Sam as mad as he was when he walked into that building. Although you weren’t sure if it was anger or if it was betrayal that he was displaying as he climbed the stairs to the second floor. “You called my sister? That’s how we’re gonna play this?”

“Sam, I would never hurt her. I just wanted to understand you better.” Her accent shone through with every word. You could tell that she didn’t want to hurt you. Her demeanor was relaxed, her guard was up, but she was being civil, almost like a politician. You were good at analyzing the people around you, so when Karli mentioned Sam and Bucky just being tools she really meant it. She wasn’t interested in hurting people she deemed innocent.

“Hey, Sam, new Cap is moving, looks like he’s found them, or maybe they found him.” Sharon’s voice snapped you back to reality. The two of you hadn’t spoken since you left Madripoor.

“Scruff’s coming, guys and you know it’s not going to be pretty when he does.” Bucky jumped over the ledge and Karli followed suit. Jumping into Bucky, slamming his body into the post. You ran alongside Bucky to the location Sam had sent to your phone. By the time that you had gotten to the building where Scruff was, you had lost Bucky. Taking an entrance that was already knocked open you heard gunshots from a few floors above you. With your gun raised, you scanned the room for any friendlies.

“Y/N, you’re about to come up on Hoskins. He’s not moving, may need an assist.” Your brows furrowed as you entered the room cautiously.

“How the hell do you know that, Shar? How did you get access to satellites?” You questioned as you approached a tied-up Hoskins. “Need some help, Battlestar?”

“I totally had that.” He said as your knife snapped the zip tie around his wrists.

“Yeah, yeah.” You held your hand out, hauling him to his feet. “It’s okay to be the damsel, ya know?” He shook his head at you, not engaging in your hilarious banter. “Jeez, who pissed in your Cheerios.” You shoved your knife back into your thigh holster, leading the way to where the others were.

When you walked in, Bucky had just caught a knife that Scruff had so deflected. He twirled the object in his right hand, ready to defend against the Flag Smasher attacking him. Their fight was quick and ended with the Smasher on their back, the knife Bucky was holding embedded in the floor inches away from their face. You jumped in, helping Sam fend off another Smasher when suddenly Bucky’s fist flew by your face.

“You’re welcome.” He darted off to deal with the others. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Scruff being held by a Smasher and Karli coming with a knife in hand. You started towards her to stop her, until you saw Hoskins attack from her other side. He tackled her to the ground, Karli bounced back quicker than Hoskins, allowing her to throw a punch at Hoskins. Your jaw dropped as you watched his body fly into the concrete mainstay behind him. His whole body slackened and Karli stood in shock.

Scruff was struggling in his captors hold, thrashing about to get to Hoskins. Once he was free, he shook Hoskins and pushed his fingers against his neck, checking for a pulse. “Hey, hey. Hey. Lemar!” You stood silent in between Bucky and Sam, unsure of what to do. It wasn’t until Scruff stood again that you knew what he was going to do. He had a half-second head start, but it was long enough that he was able to reach the Samsher that was holding him back before you could reach Scruff.

You had to push through the crowd to see what was happening. The Smasher had his hands protecting his face against the slam of the Captain America shield that was being hammered into him. You gasped and had to turn your face into Bucky’s shoulder. This is not happening, but it was.

And the whole world saw it too.

***********************************

The next time you saw Scruff was in an abandoned warehouse. He was talking to himself, yelling about different things. If you weren’t sure before, you definitely were now. John Walker had taken the serum and it was enhancing all the wrong things. Scruff was kneeling, resting his hands on the bloodied shield before him. You were on Sam’s right when Scruff walked up to you.

“You guys should see a medic. You don’t look too good.” He paced in front of the three of you. “You saw what happened. You know what I had to do. I killed him because I had to! He killed Lemar!”

“He didn’t kill Lemar, John.” Bucky’s voice remained calm. “Don’t go down that road. Believe me, it doesn’t end well.” Scruff sent Bucky a disgusted look.

“I’m not like you.”

“You convincing yourself or us, Scruff?” You recognize that this probably isn’t the time to pull his strings but he wasn’t thinking clearly anyway.

“Listen, it was the heat of battle. Okay? If you explain what happened, they may consider your record. We don’t want anyone else to get hurt.” Scruff never stopped pacing, his hand flexing in the shield.

“You gotta give Sam the shield, Scruff.” He stopped pacing and turned to you, getting a little close for comfort.

“Oh, so that’s what this is.” He leaned forward, “You almost got me.” His index finger jabbed into your chest then rested there as he spoke. “You don’t wanna do this.”

“Yeah, we do.” Came Bucky’s reply before all hell broke loose. Bucky and Sam rushed Scruff, fighting for a way to get the shield from him. Scruff sent Sam flying backwards with a swift kick to the stomach. This gave you the room you needed to launch yourself onto his shoulders, attempting to flip him using his own body weight and your momentum. Your move distracted him enough that Bucky got a few decent hits in, but it really just served to piss him off further. He whipped one arm around, gripping the waistband of your jeans and dumping your weight off his shoulders. He threw you into a wooden shipping container, knocking all of the air out of your lungs.

You watch, as you lay there gasping, Bucky get beat to his knees by Scruff and Scruff’s attention is turned by Sam flipping in the air, kicking the shield to the side. You rose to your feet, readying yourself for the opportune moment. Once you found it, you flung yourself at Scruff, sending the both of you to the ground and the shield away from the both of you. You resituated yourself to straddle his stomach, this position didn’t last long because he flipped the both of you. Slamming your back against the ground, he gripped your wrists, yanking them way up high causing you to groan out at the stretch. He released you but not before delivering a swift punch to your cheek.

Your vision blurred, but you could make out Bucky going head to head with Scruff again. Scruff threw the shield at Bucky after kicking him into a lift. Luckily, Bucky was able to catch the shield and shift it to his own arm before Scruff attacked him again. Scruff pressed the shield tight against Bucky’s body, then began speaking to him.

“Why are you making me do this?” You and Sam shared a look then watched as Scruff tossed Bucky clear across the room into an electrical outlet, short circuiting his arm. Sam flew at Scruff, trying to catch him off guard. He was unsuccessful in his efforts, ending with Sam facing Scruff as you crouched in Scruff’s six.

“This isn’t you, John.” Sam began trying to reason with him. He is who is way past reasoning, not Karli. Scruff’s head tilted as he spoke in that condescending tone again.

“We could’ve been a team.” Sam didn’t say anything. He deployed his wings, flying past Scruff and sending a small grappling hook to try and take the shield. Scruff flipped through the air, then braced himself against one of the lifts. You came up from behind him and tackled him off the lift, sending Sam to the ground as well. As you landed, you hit your head on a piece of broken concrete, disorienting you. The shield was out of Scruff’s hands, and he wasn’t happy about that. They both dove for the shield but Scruff managed to get to Sam first, landing on top of Sam.

“I am Captain America.” Scruff grunted out as he ripped Sam’s wings from his suit. You watch in horror as Scruff holds the shield, ready to give Sam a face lift. Bucky knocked Scruff off just before he could land his hit. Scruff had pinned Bucky to the ground after driving Bucky’s head into the side of the shield. You hauled yourself to your feet again, wrapping your arm around Scruff’s neck, hindering his movement. Sam came from the front, delivering a harsh blow to Scruff’s face. You continued to hold your chokehold as Bucky and Sam pried the shield off his arm. You heard a sickening crack as Sam withdrew from the hoe down. Bucky rose to his feet and spit out the blood collecting in his mouth, reaching out his hand for you to take.

You walked over to Sam, you hoped that would be the end of it all. Lo and behold though, Scruff got up yet again. “It’s mine.” He growled possessively, starting towards Bucky again. Bucky ducked lifting Scruff over his shoulder and Sam threw his whole body weight into Scruff who was dangling off to the side of Bucky. The three of them laid on the floor, bloodied and sweaty as you stood over them.

Bucky rose to his knees, the shield in front of him and he used the leverage of it to stand fully. He dropped it next to Sam, pausing for a few seconds and then walking away completely. You stood next to Scruff, in disbelief. “This just got a whole lot more complicated didn’t it, Sam?” He didn’t reply to you, but you watched as he tried to wipe the blood off the outer rings of the shield.

***********************************

You stood outside the building where Donya’s funeral was held, listening to Sam talk to someone else named Torres. Bucky had walked right past you, not a word said. He was shutting down and running away, at least that’s what it looked like. You wouldn’t know because the whore wouldn’t talk to you. You sat down on the stairs, head in your hands frustrated about what was going on. Your phone began buzzing in your pocket, so you took it out ready to deny the call, until you saw who it was.

“Shar.” You sighed into the phone speaker.

“Y/N. How’s it going?” You could hear the smugness lacing her tone.

“Alright, just get it over with. Tell me that you told me so, just make it quick.” She scoffed.

“I mean, I did tell you so, but now I don’t want to tell you that I did.” You laughed at her.

“You realize you just did, though?” You sense that she was smiling.

“What happened?” Her tone switched into a serious one on a dime.

“Walker took the serum, went batshit, killed a Flag Smasher, and then beat the shit out of Sam, Bucky and me in order to keep his precious shield because he ‘is Captain America.’” Your voice morphed to imitate Scruff.

“Well, that was bound to happen sometime. He’s all over the place.” You nodded, pulling the phone away from your ear and switching to speakerphone so you could talk and scroll through Twitter.

“He’s already trending. Captain America Kills Innocent Man, what a great headline. You know the worst part about all of this, Shar?” You switched the speakerphone off, bringing it back to your ear. “I don’t even think that Karli is in the wrong here. She’s doing what she’s doing for good reason, she’s just doing a shit job of getting her point across.”

“Yeah, well she’s becoming a pain in everyone’s asses, so that puts her on everyone’s shit list.” Sharon took a deep breath before continuing. “You need to get out of there. I know you’re not technically in the States, or alive, but you know how the government is. They’ll find a way to get you, if they want you.” She was lecturing you out of love, you knew, but it was frustrating for you still.

“Can you not trust that I know what I’m doing?” A grunt released from her end of the phone. “No, seriously Shar. We grew up the same, went through all the same training, what makes you know so much better than me?” Deep down, you knew that wasn’t what she meant, but you had always felt second best when it came to Sharon.

“It’s not that you don’t know what you’re doing.” She sighed heavily. “It’s that you were gone for five years and things have changed. Governments have become stricter and you don’t understand that they aren’t the same as they were.” You remained quiet, expecting her to say something else. “That’s why it’s good you have me because I know how they work.”

“You know how they work, do you?” You were fed up with her. “Then explain to me how you have access to satellites, Sharon. That’s not something that you just happen upon.” Your tone was accusatory. “Are you working for the Power Broker behind my back?” You heard a sharp intake of air on her end. “I swear to God, Sharon. We promised each other we wouldn’t work for that asswipe. He’s involved in too much bad shit. If the US government were to ever find out that we were working for the Power Broker, they wouldn’t grant us pardons, Shar. Did you fuck this up for us?”

“I didn’t fuck anything up and you need to check your tone when you’re talking to me.” Your brows shot to your hairline.

“The fuck did you just say to me?”

“You heard me. We need to work this shit out. I didn’t fuck anything up and neither will you if you come back to Madripoor right now.” You were shocked, Sharon had never talked like this to you.

“I really don’t think I would be comfortable being somewhere that I’m clearly not welcome anymore, so I’m going to stick with what I know.” Sharon began backtracking as you resigned yourself to being on your own for the first time in forever. “Goodbye, Sharon.” You ended the call and shoved your phone into the pocket of your jeans.

You dropped your head into your hands in defeat. Being on your own was daunting and you weren’t sure how Sharon survived without you well enough to grow your business all on her own. You tried to think of your next move, deciding that sticking with Sam would be your best bet. He’s the easiest to guess where he’s going since Bucky has been mentally MIA towards you.

You recalled Sam mentioning his sister and nephews, thinking he would go there to check on them. You hauled yourself out of your slump and to Zemo’s apartment to collect your things before going. You were going all in if you were going to do this, so why the fuck not?

*************************

@londonalozzy @marvelofwitch @dramaticwittch @hellmoonsin @jn-wolf @youcancallmeishita @iabrokengirl @veroxloki @liveloudwriteloud @lainternettuale @angelofthetrenchcoats @rosiahills22 @peachymichu @sj-ficrecs @learisa @itsyagirl01 @simply-me-xoxo @ghoststudyy @taina-eny @japanrecs @sinfulhun-collapsedheart @isaordora @shutupstevie @sprsoldierfics @beachbabe925

[buferfliz]

What’s Your Fantasy?

So this is another thought that invaded my mind and wouldn’t go away until i wrote it. Not that i minded all that much. Oikawa is one of my favorites. I set all of my Haikyuu stories in college so the schools are colleges. I try to reference it in the story but just in case you miss it, i figured i would state it here. This is meant for people 18+ so please DNI if you are a  minor. Thank you. I hope you enjoy.

Warnings: 18+, swearing, dirty talk, public sex, some voyeurism, threesome, oral sex (giving), vaginal sex, creampie

Word Count: 2885

You walk hand in hand with your boyfriend as he enters into the crowded gym. He leads you to a back row far away from the main cheering section of each competitor but only a few rows away from some of the other spectators.

“Tooru, I thought you said that you didn’t want to see this game.”

Oikawa takes a seat on the end and you sit next to him.

“I might have said something like that but I can’t mope around the house all day either.” He smirks at you. “Besides maybe this will be interesting.”

“Ok.” You say with a shrug of your shoulders as you begin to watch the final round of the preliminary matches for the Spring University Nationals.

As you watch Shiratorizawa’s guess monster make another skillful block against Karasuno, you feel Oikawa place his hand on your thigh. You turn your head and smile at him before stealing a glance around at all the people nearby. A mischievous look spreads across your face.

“You know what? It’d be hot if we…” You trail off not finishing your sentence, thinking it better to not voice the thought in your head but Oikawa finishes it for you.

“Fucked right here?” He says with a laugh.

You feel your cheeks warm slightly at the blunt manner in which he had said it. He begins stroking your thigh, inching closer to your clothed center.

“Well yes, but—“ He cuts you off.

“My thoughts exactly. I thought maybe we could make your little fantasy come true.”

You lock eyes with him as your cheeks get hotter from being called out.

Yes you had indeed fantasized about having sex in public with him and you had told him so. At first you were hesitant, unsure as to how he would react, but you did finally tell him. You thought he’d be disgusted or at least shocked by it but he was only intrigued. It turned out that he was even more open minded than you thought, as you found out when you had mustered the courage to divulge the other little fantasy you had. It involved him and his best friend, Iwaizumi. You were sure he’d get mad or offended but he didn’t, he just found it amusing. When you asked him why he didn’t get angry, he simply said it was because he loved you and he knew you only loved him adding that there was nothing wrong with fantasies and the occasional experiment or two. You had really gotten lucky having him for a boyfriend, most other guys would have gotten pissed at you for fantasizing over their best friend. Oikawa was right, you did love only him.

The cheers from the crowd roused you from your thoughts and brought you back to reality with Oikawa looking at you expectantly.

“I would like that, but isn’t this too many people?”

“Oh but I thought you were ok with having a potential audience?” He replies.

“Yeah, but not one this big. Not one that could get us thrown out or damage your reputation.”

“Aww, you’re worried about my reputation?”

“Of course I am. I love you and I wouldn’t want some fantasy of mine to end up causing you problems. You do want to become a professional athlete.”

He gives you a sweet smile paired with a loving gaze.

“That’s just like you to be so sweet and thoughtful, putting me above your own desires. But the thing is, I also happen to love you. A lot. And I want to make my babygirl’s fantasies come true. Besides, I also think it would be hot and if any of these people saw us then they would just know that you’re mine.” He leans into your ear. “And I’m ok with the whole world knowing that.” He whispers as his fingers graze across your aching pussy eliciting a gasp from your mouth.

He begins stroking along your slit over the soaked fabric of your panties, his mouth still near your ear.

“So what do you say princess? I know you want to, you’re dripping just from the thought of it.” He purrs.

You let out a little moan, immediately slapping your hand over your mouth and looking around to see if anyone had heard you. But no one is paying you any mind. You are relieved to have not gotten caught but you can’t deny the way your pussy clenched at the thought of being discovered.

“But if we get caught…”

Oikawa silences you with a kiss as he continues to stroke you.

“Shh, there’s an easy solution to that. We just can’t get caught. You can keep quiet for me, can’t you princess?”

You bite your bottom lip. You really wanted to do it. Could you keep your voice contained? Yes, you could. You thought before you nod your head in agreement. Oikawa gives you a wicked grin.

“Oh, you know how wild you make me when you bite your lip like that babygirl.”

He kisses you hard, taking your bottom lip between his teeth and lightly tugs at it as he pulls away.

“You see what you’ve done now?” He takes your hand and places it onto the bulge in his pants.

Your eyes meet his as you bite on your bottom lip once more earning a growl from your boyfriend. You start to palm him over his pants and he lets out a low groan.

“Give me your panties.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Take them off and give them to me. It’s time for you to sit on my lap.”

Holding out his hand, he gives you a devilish smirk as he waits for you to comply with his demand. You smirk back at him and rise up, removing your panties and putting them in his hand. He smiles and puts them in his pocket.

“Good girl. Now come here princess.”

He undoes his pants and frees his hard cock from its confines and holds his hands out to grab you. You subconsciously lick your lips at the sight. You loved his cock, just the right length and thickness to fill you up oh so perfectly. You straddle his lap with your back to him as he grabs ahold of your hips and starts to pull you down. You lower yourself onto him.

“So this is why,” you let out a moan, trying not to be too loud, as you feel him glide inside of you stretching your walls, “you wanted me to wear a skirt.” You finish saying with a breathy moan.

Oikawa lets out a moan of his own from deep in his throat, also being careful to not draw the attention of any of the nearby spectators, as he feels the warm wetness of your inner walls grip his cock and suck him deep inside.

“Fuck, you’re always so tight. It’s like heaven for my cock.” He says with a low breathy tone in your ear.

“Shit Tooru, you always fill me up so good.”

You place your hands on his thighs and begin to move up and down on his cock. He grips your hips hard as he helps you move. You’re sure you’ll have bruises there tomorrow from his iron grip but you couldn’t care less, too lost in the pleasure he’s giving you and the thrill of being surrounded by a bunch of people. Oikawa lets out a blissful moan.

“Oh fuck babygirl, you feel so fucking good.”

You continue your pace trying to make your movements as subtle as possible. You let out some more breathy moans before you freeze at the sound of a familiar voice.

“I thought you said you weren’t coming.” Iwaizumi says to Oikawa as he jumps over the row to sit by the two of you.

“Well I’m not yet.” Oikawa responds with a smirk.

Iwaizumi raises an eyebrow at the statement, confused at first as to what he could mean.

“Tooru! I can’t believe you said that.” You chide him.

Oikawa just laughs.

Iwaizumi takes in what you said and the movements your making, the flush to your cheeks and the slight pants coming from you when he realizes what’s going on.

“Oh what the fuck man. You’re in public for fucksakes.”

“You’re as sharp as ever Iwa-chan.” He gives his friend a smug smile. “Being in public is part of the fun. Isn’t that right, princess?”

You nod your head as you continue to bounce on Oikawa’s cock.

“See? Now hush Iwa, don’t make a scene.”

“You really are a piece of crap.” Iwaizumi says as he takes the seat one away from you.

The three of you focus on the game or at least appear to as you continue to move up and down, small moans escaping your lips. As you look around to make sure that nobody heard you after a particularly loud moan escapes your mouth, you can’t help but notice Iwaizumi stealing glances out of the corner of his eye of you and Oikawa. That’s when you hear a chuckle emanate from your boyfriend.

“I think Iwa-chan wants to watch. We should give him a better view, don’t you think?” He says in your ear, loud enough for Iwaizumi to hear him.

“Yeah we can do that.” You answer, feeling your pleasure elevate at the thought of being watched by him.

“You like the idea of being watched. Don’t you, my naughty little angel?”

Oikawa proceeds to shift the both of you towards Iwaizumi and then lifts up your skirt to give his friend an unobstructed view of his cock being buried deep inside your pussy with every roll of your hips.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Iwaizumi asks as he glances down to where the two of you are joined together.

“It’s ok Iwa-chan, you can watch.” Oikawa tells him.

Iwaizumi averts his gaze and shifts around a bit but finds himself staring as you lean back to give him an even better view of you bouncing on his best friend’s cock. You let out a groan and feel your pussy clench at Iwaizumi’s eyes fixed on you. Oikawa feels it too.

“Oh yeah, my babygirl likes having an audience. I can feel it.” He smirks. “You better keep it down though otherwise you might end up attracting a larger audience and you don’t want us to get caught now.”

You let out a little gasp as his words and look around to see if anyone is looking which thankfully they are not.

As Iwaizumi continues to watch, he begins to shift around in his seat and Oikawa laughs when he sees why.

“Oh it looks like Iwa-chan is really enjoying the show.”

“Shut the fuck up shittykawa.”

Oikawa laughs more at the response before giving you a meaningful look.

“It looks like it’s your lucky day princess. I think you should help Iwa out, it is your fault this happened after all and we wouldn’t want him to feel any discomfort.”

Your eyes widen at his words. Was he seriously going to indulge you in that fantasy as well?

“Are you sure?” You ask him.

“Of course angel. I love you.” He gives you a sweet kiss to your lips.

“I love you too.” You give him a smile.

You turn your attention to Iwaizumi and reach your hand out to rub it over the obvious bulge in his pants. This startles the man since he had turned his gaze away after Oikawa teased him. You smile at his startled expression.

“I’m sorry Iwa-chan. Let me help you out.” You say to him.

Iwaizumi stays frozen in place as you undo his pants and release his hard thick cock. You begin to stroke him causing him to let out a groan.

“Keep it down Iwa-chan.” Oikawa says to him as he casts a glance around the area.

Iwaizumi tries to lower his voice as you continue to stroke him.

“Fuck, you must really be enjoying yourself princess, you’re gushing around my cock and I haven’t even made you cum yet.” Oikawa glances over at his friend. “Iwa-chan seems to be enjoying the attention too but I think you can do better than that.” He taps Iwaizumi’s arm. “Iwa move closer so she doesn’t have to stretch.”

Iwaizumi raises an eyebrow but slides closer. You continue to work his shaft as you bend over, causing you to rise a bit off of Oikawa’s lap. He takes the opportunity to dig his fingers into your hips more firmly and begins thrusting up into you as you lick a stripe up the underside of Iwaizumi’s cock from the base to the tip, making sure to lick the precum that has started to leak out. He lets out a moan at the feeling of your tongue dancing along his shaft.

You continue to pump your hand up and down his length as you swirl your tongue around the leaking head of his cock before taking it into your hot wanting mouth.

“Fuck!” Iwaizumi cries out, at the same time the crowd cheers thankfully allowing the three of you to continue to go undetected.

He lets out rumbling moans as you suck him into your mouth, taking him in deeper with each bob of your head. He bites his knuckle to stifle a loud groan when you take him all the way to the back of your throat.

Oikawa continues to thrust up into your hot dripping pussy as you service Iwaizumi with your mouth. When he gives you a particularly sharp thrust, you find yourself moaning around his friend’s cock as you continue your movements.

“Fuck.” Iwaizumi says again, though not as loudly this time, as he grabs ahold of your hair and begins thrusting into your mouth.

“My naughty little angel has a great mouth, doesn’t she?” Oikawa asks his friend between grunts and pants as he begins thrusting into you harder, catching that special spot inside of you with each one.

“Fuck yes.” Iwaizumi responds with a groan as he increases his pace.

“The only thing better than her mouth is this sweet pussy.” Oikawa lets out a rumbling moan.

You smile around Iwaizumi’s cock at your boyfriend’s praise. You relax your throat and hollow your cheeks, increasing the force of the suction as Iwaizumi continues to fuck your mouth. He grips your hair tighter and moans as his cock goes farther down the back of your throat with every thrust.

“Oh fuck, so fucking good.” Iwaizumi grunts out as he throws his head back enjoying the pleasure of your mouth.

Oikawa brings one hand around in front of you, leaving the other gripping your hip, and begins to rub small circles into your clit as he continues to pound into you causing you to moan more. You clench your pelvic muscles causing your inner walls to tightly grip Oikawa’s cock as he thrusts into you.

“Ah fuck! You know I love it when you do that babygirl. I’m not going to last much longer.” He increases the pressure on your clit while his thrusts begin to become erratic.

You groan as drool runs down your chin from Iwaizumi’s use of your mouth. You feel your climax crest before it comes crashing down over you, a stifled scream coming from the back of your throat. Your walls pulse and begin milking your boyfriend’s cock sending him over the edge as well. He leans over and bites your shoulder to stifle the moans and curses coming from his lips as he paints your walls white and fills you to the brim with his hot cum.

The feeling of being filled causes your walls to spasm around him once again as you very lightly graze Iwaizumi’s cock with your teeth causing him to hit his peak as well. He bites down hard on his knuckle to stop himself from crying out as he shoots his thick cum down your throat.

After swallowing the last of Iwaizumi’s offering, you remove your mouth from his now soft length and sit up. You wipe the drool and cum that dripped down your chin with the back of your hand. He tucks himself back into his pants as he catches his breath. You begin to rise up off of Oikawa and he hands you back your panties.

“Now make sure you don’t let any drip out.” He tells you with a smirk as his breath begins to return to normal.

You put your panties back on and sit between the two men.

The final play of the game concludes resulting in Karasuno’s victory over Shiratorizawa.

“See now, this game turned out to be interesting after all.” Oikawa says with a chuckle as he looks at you and Iwaizumi.

“Best one I’ve attended.” Iwaizumi adds with a smirk.

You feel your face heat up over what had just taken place.

“Did you have fun, princess?”

“Yeah I did.” You smile at your boyfriend.

Oikawa smiles at you and kisses your temple.

“Now let’s get out of here. I have no desire to watch this awards ceremony.”

The three of you stand up, Oikawa puts his arm around your shoulders and pulls you against him as he uses his other hand to push Iwaizumi towards the exit.

[lifeofkaze]

When Stars Ignite - Chapter 5

HPHM Rockstar AU

A/N:

General Warning: This whole fic has a general warning of being NSFW / 18+. We will give specific warnings for every chapter in itself, but several adult themes will be more or less present in every chapter, may it be explicitly or in mention. These include sexual topics, drug abuse, (ab)use of alcohol, smoking and a whole lot of cursing.

Specific Warning: Language, reference to smoking (cigarettes), allusions to NSFW topics

~~~

Find the masterpost here, the previous chapter here and the next one here. The songs featured before every chapter can be found on this pretty badass playlist here.

~~~

This work is a collaboration with @the-al-chemist

Taglist: @slytherindisaster @carewyncromwell @night-rhea

Gettin' sold, second hand

That's how it goes, playin' in a band

It's a long way to the top if you wanna rock 'n' roll

~ AC/DC - It’s A Long Way to the Top ~

Halfway through their first week back on tour, their time in London was slowly drawing to an end. Lizzie couldn’t quite believe how fast the days seemed to fly by, each one a blur of tiredness, boredom and the addictive rush of adrenaline when they were on stage. Every day and night was like the one before and totally different all at once.

It felt like only yesterday that she had stepped from the plane back from America; at the same time, being surrounded by all the familiar faces and living in long established routines, her break from the hustle and bustle already seemed like an eternity away. Lizzie could still feel the last traces of jetlag wearing her down sometimes, but at least her shifted rhythm helped her stay energised during the shows; not that she was getting much sleep afterwards either.

Wrecked from her chronic lack of sleep, Lizzie had missed her alarm this morning. When she arrived at the largest dressing room of the O2 Arena, she found the rest of the band already assembled.

Merula and Everett were sitting at the huge table in the middle of the room, Everett scrolling through his social media accounts while Merula was painting her nails in a dark violet colour. Skye was slumped onto one of the sofas at the back of the room, a magazine spread across her lap. She looked up from the colourful pages as she saw Lizzie enter.

“About time you’re showing Jameson; thought you’d gotten lost somewhere. Where’ve you been?”

Lizzie sat down on the arm of the sofa Orion was sitting on; he lifted his head briefly and smiled before bending over his notebook again. Lizzie tried catching a glimpse of the lyrics he was scribbling down but he covered them with his hand. With a shrug, Lizzie turned her attention to Skye.

“I overslept and then ran into Charlie. Murphy and KC are gone somewhere, ‘having a meeting’ apparently.”

“That’s what they’re calling it these days,” Merula muttered under her breath, making Skye snort with laughter.

“Anyway,” Lizzie chuckled, “they’re not here to show the new pyro girl around. They left the job to Charlie, but apparently she’s late and no one knows how to reach her. He’s a little grumpy about it.” She furrowed her brow in concern. “I hope that doesn’t make for a bad start. Charlie had better behave, from what KC told me the newbie is promising.”

“A female pyro tech, just when I thought I’d seen it all,” Everett scoffed. “I mean, how good can she even be?”

Merula arched an eyebrow at him, her eyes sparkling dangerously. “You have a problem with a woman on the job, or what?”

Everett blatantly ignored her, however. “Hopefully we’ll have something to look at this time, right Orion?”

Orion was trying not to roll his eyes. “What we portray on the outside pales in comparison to what we carry in our hearts; as long as she’s a good person who is sure of what she’s doing, nothing can go wrong.”

“Getting along with Charlie would help, too,” Lizzie added.

A grin tugged at Orion’s lips. “It would indeed.”

Everett looked at him sceptically and shook his head. “Listen to you, as if you didn’t care about looks as well.”

Now Orion finally looked up from his notebook for good and frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Stop acting all innocent, everyone knows you’re getting your fair share of groupies as well,” Everett laughed, obviously finding the thought of someone preferring Orion to him hilarious. “Hotel room walls aren’t the thickest, you know.”

Lizzie almost choked on the bottle of water she had helped herself to. She was trying her hardest not to blush as her eyes flickered to Orion. Their eyes met for the briefest of moments before she busied herself with the lid of her bottle, hopefully looking more innocent than she felt. She could tell by the way Orion was trying to keep a straight face that Everett’s remark came just as surprising to him as it did to her.

Clearing his throat, Orion replied levelly “I have no idea what you’re talking about. It’s a wonder you’re able to hear anything over the racket you’re making most nights.”

Everett shrugged. “At least I’m open about it.”

“As much as I hate to say it, but Ev has a point,” Skye chimed in all of a sudden. She was waving her magazine through the air. “According to the Daily Mail, you’ve had at least six affairs ever since we’ve been to Spain. They mark you down as quite the casanova.” Same as Everett before, the thought seemed to amuse her to no end.

Merula rolled her eyes at Skye. “Why are you even reading that shit?”

“Keep your friends close and your enemies closer,” Skye shrugged. “And it’s fucking hilarious.”

Meanwhile, Lizzie had regained her composure. “Well, don’t keep us on the rack. What’s the latest news?”

Skye cleared her throat before scanning the pages. “After things got frosty between us in Poland, Lizzie and I have apparently decided on an open relationship. Good for us,” she looked up and blew her friend a kiss, which made Lizzie giggle. “They’re still taking bets when Merula is going to come out of the closet -”

“What is this bullshit with me being gay all the time,” Merula snarled.

“You just give that vibe, I know what I’m talking about,” Skye shrugged indifferently before carrying on. “We already had Orion being a ladies’ man and Ev… “

Skye trailed off as she read the paragraph again and looked up after she had finished. “There are pictures of you with Rita Skeeter in here, what’s that about?”

“None of your business,” Everett answered brusquely.

Lizzie saw Skye’s face darken at his tone and quickly snatched the magazine out of Skye’s hands. Just as anticipated, Skye’s attention immediately went to her as she tried to get it back.

The potential fight being dissolved before it had begun, the mood was gradually calming down again. It was an almost relaxed atmosphere in the dressing room, when the door opened and Ethan walked in. He looked very tense and as the door fell shut behind him with a bang, the muscles around his mouth were tight. He exhaled slowly, his hands running over his lessening brown hair.

Skye was disconcerted to see her father looking so unusually stressed. “Dad, what’s wrong?”

He held up a hand to silence her before producing a crumpled package of cigarettes from his pocket. Flicking his silver lighter open, he held the flame to one of them. “I’ll explain in a minute.”

“You do realise that there’s smoke detectors in here?” Lizzie pointed out apprehensively. “I don’t know about you but I don’t care much about getting soaked.”

Ethan took the glowing cigarette out of his mouth again and put it out against the nearest table. “Fucking rules,” he muttered. “Nobody gave a shit back in my days.”

Orion looked up from his notebook, his dark eyes unreadable as they took in Ethan’s nervous demeanour. “It’s clear to see that you’re agitated, but a pain is shared is a pain halved. What’s the matter?”

Ethan sighed, wistfully closing the packet of cigarettes before stowing it away in his pocket. “I had a few calls back and forth with the label over the last few days.”

“So?” Skye urged him on.

“They’re not particularly impressed with what the press is writing about you at the moment. They’re considering cutting the budget for the next album by half.”

His words went down like a lead balloon in the silence spreading throughout the room; no one could believe what they were hearing.

“Why the fuck would they do that?” Skye finally managed to croak out. “The next album was going to be our biggest production so far.”

“Why are they even thinking about it?” Lizzie agreed. “We’re playing to a full house every night. We’re doing a great job, if I may say so, and the reviews have all been really positive so far. The press has been good.”

But Ethan shook his head. “No, Lizzie, the press hasn’t been good at all. People don’t care about professional reviews in respectable magazines anymore. Everything the public sees is what’s written in those goddamn tabloids.” He was eyeing Skye’s copy of the Daily Mail with a grim face. “And they’re having a field day with you; have been for a while now.”

His look darkened further as his gaze swept the round of musicians assembled in front of him, resting particularly long on Everett, who didn’t budge in the slightest.

“Some of you are taking this whole ‘rockstar’ lifestyle too seriously. What was fun and games in my time doesn’t work today anymore. I’ve been told that the label had to fork out a good amount of money to get some positive stories about you out, counter the negative attention you’ve been getting.”

His words were met with icy silence, none of them feeling personally addressed by Ehtan’s barely hidden accusation.

“Listen,” he continued more placatory, “I know sex, drugs and rock ‘n’ roll are all fun to do, I’ve been there myself. But these days, people aren’t as easy about diva behaviour and trashed hotel rooms.”

Again, he was giving Everett a hard stare. “Cleaning up behind you costs the label hard cash. Cash they’re now cutting from the production budget.”

“That is very unfortunate to hear,” Orion spoke into the ensuing silence. “Is there anything we can do to make them reconsider their actions?”

Ethan’s face lit up with enthusiasm. “Good that you’re asking! I already designed a battle plan for us, we won’t have them compromise our work that easily.”

He placed both of his hands on the table where Merula and Everett were sitting, tapping the smooth surface with his fingers. “I’m thinking about going all out on the charm offensive. We’re going to be doing more interviews, more meet ‘n’ greets, fan events, charity bullshit, more of everything. You name it, we’re going to do it. We have to show the public you’re not some off-hook dickheads but still the old friends with a fucking heart of gold like you were when Equinox started.”

Merula snorted derisively. “Nice thought, but I doubt that will impress the guys from the label. You said it yourself, they’re all about the money, they don’t care about this sentimental bullshit.”

“You’re right,” Ethan said, “that’s why I struck a deal with them.”

The way he was avoiding Orion’s eyes was boding ill on Lizzie. And sure enough, Orion’s shoulders were tense as he spoke, his voice noticeably cooler than before. “What kind of deal?”

“They want to know if your new material is worth the huge investment. We need to prove that we’re still the best horse in their stable and they should place their bets on us instead of the new blood they recently signed, like that Winger guy.”

He ran his hand over his dark goatee as he met Orion’s eyes. “Some representatives are going to come to one of the shows in Manchester, see whether what you’re doing is still good enough for their full support.”

He raised his chin in a commanding gesture as he continued. “And they want to see how the crowd reacts to the new songs.”

Lizzie involuntarily held her breath. Orion was particular about his music; Ethan could have just as well asked him to set down his guitar and never touch it again.

And sure enough, his answer to Ethan’s proposition was simple. “No.”

But Ethan wasn’t about to acknowledge defeat so easily. “Yes. If we give the crowd and accordingly the label a taste of what’s to come, they’re going to see that we only deserve the best of the best once we’re ready to hit the studio again.”

Orion, however, remained unimpressed. “No.”

Ethan blinked, clearly irritated at the refusal to cooperate. “Why not?”

“None of the songs are ready to be shared. You don’t serve your guests a half-cooked meal and neither do you hang a picture missing its colours on the wall.”

His eyes narrowed as he looked Ethan straight in the face, the look in his eyes unwavering. “I won’t have my unfinished work being sold for profit; that’s not what this is about.”

Ethan glared at Orion, but instead of a sharp remark from his side, Everett spoke up. “We could play my stuff.”

Clearly surprised at the unexpected offer, Ethan turned his attention to the singer of the band. “You got songs of your own?”

Everett shrugged nonchalantly. “Sure I do. Just promise me they’ll be featured on the album and they’re all yours.”

Hesitant about giving Everett the confirmation he was asking for, Ethan focused on Orion again. “‘No’ is your last word?”

Lizzie had heard some of Everett’s songs before. They weren’t bad by all means, but they were lacking the finesse Orion’s music brought with it. She knew Ethan would take whatever he was offered, but that wouldn’t be in the band’s best interests.

“I know you're protective of your work,” she told Orion quietly, giving him an encouraging smile, “but you showed me what you’ve written so far, and some of the songs are almost there. They’re the best you’ve ever done, believe me. Everyone’s going to love them.”

Orion held her gaze for a moment, searching for the affirmation he needed to agree to a deal he didn’t want to make, but knew he had to in the end.

When he finally tore his eyes away from hers, he looked at Ethan and sighed. “Fine, have my songs. Under one condition,” he added, nipping Ethan’s victorious grin in the bud. “Until I’m completely satisfied with them, I’m going to sing them.”

“Excuse me?” Everett bristled up, “Am I the singer of this band or you? Get out of my fucking spotlight.”

Orion shook his head. “You misunderstand; I’m not trying to fight you for your place in the sun, my friend. But I wouldn’t know how to explain to you what I want the songs to sound like until they’re really finished.”

Ethan snorted. “Stop being a diva, Orion.”

But Orion was adamant in his resolve. “I’m not. All I want is for the people caring about our music to get what they deserve; and they don’t deserve some unfinished songs that aren’t even played the way they’re supposed to be.”

Both Ethan and Orion were staring at each other for a moment longer, before Ethan threw his hands up in exasperation. “Fine, have it your way then.”

Not believing what he was hearing, Everett stood up from his seat. His aggressive energy seemed to fill the room, making it feel a lot smaller than it actually was.

“Are you for real?” he snarled at Ethan. “I’m the frontman of this band, not him! It’s bad enough that his songs are the only ones that get played when mine are easily as good.”

He turned to Orion, eyes sparkling with anger. Lizzie, who was still sitting next to him, tried not to shrink back before him, but Orion met his gaze as calmly as ever. However, this seemed to anger Everett even further.

“You always said you didn’t want to sing, you were perfectly happy with doing background vocals if you had to. Why now all of a sudden? Tell you why, you’re not happy there’s someone else who knows how to write a decent song in this band. Do you consider me a threat to you or what?”

Everett’s voice had risen considerably. Skye and Lizzie were sharing a worried glance as the two male members of their band were glaring at each other, Merula just looking to and fro between them with a bored expression.

Not wanting things to go south even more than they already were, Ethan stepped between Orion and Everett to break their eye contact. “Ev, calm down. There’s no need -”

He was interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. Taken by surprise, it took Ethan several attempts to make the strain disappear from his voice. He cleared his throat one more time before calling to whoever was waiting on the other side of the door.

“Come in.”

[actualbird]

nobody asked but here are my personal top five pat gill videos | a 2.1k word long post where i rank and review pat gill’s videos for just way too long.

Right around the tail end of April, 2020, I fell into the rabbit hole of my current obsession; Polygon Dot Com Video Content. As a consequence of this was being introduced to the phenomenon of Pat Gill. A dire consequence of that consequence was me slowly, deeply, irrevocably, finding myself attracted to this marionette of a man. So, I enjoy his content and I think he’s hot and that combined with the fact that some of my friends bully me over that latter fact has inspired me to do this: rank my personal favorite Pat Gill videos in a post that’s entirely too long.

Before I get straight into the rankings, I need to explain my process. 

First, I needed to narrow my scope. Polygon has a lot of videos. Polygon has a lot of videos with Pat Gill in them. If I didn’t narrow my scope, I would either go bonkers yonkers or have a list that would be kilometric in length and thus miss the entire point of ranking altogether. So, for my sanity, I am excluding any videos that are a part of a Polygon video series. This means no Overboard, no Gill and Gilbert, no Video Game Theatre, etc. If I included these, I would cry. I do not want to cry over Polygon Dot Com Video Producer Pat Gill.

Second, I need a criteria. If I just ranked videos with no system, I would find myself endlessly rearranging my list based on whatever thought comes out on top in my mind at the given moment. I am a disorganized person, so I need rules. I have decided that I will rank Pat Gill videos using the EEEH criteria. 

Entertainment. Do I smile, watching the video? Do I chortle? Am I filled with the embarrassing urge to show this video to my sister and derive glee from her laughing at the exact same moment I laughed? Entertainment is key.

Education. Did I come out of this video knowing something I originally did not know? More importantly, was I engaged in the learning process? I come from a family of teachers, so I have high standards when it comes to education. If I am to learn, I must learn well.

Exaltation. This is a bit of an oddball criteria, but it is important to me. The word “exalted” is defined as “elevated in rank, character, or status.” This criteria refers to how good it is at exalting, elevating, pulling me out of a depressive episode. That is to say I’ve been in a depressive episode for the past month and whether or not the video made me stop crying and brush my teeth is essential. Polygon video content has been integral to my serotonin production lately, and thus the video’s ability of acting as an audiovisual antidepressant for me factors into the rankings.

[BONUS POINTS] Hotness. How Hot Is Pat Gill In It? I felt bad, morally, ranking videos based on how good looking I thought Pat Gill was in it---because beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and all that, and people don’t exist to be beautiful, they just are, and I agree---so I’m relegating this criteria as a bonus point. Standard is 0, because he’s always hot in my mind, but he gets plus points if he is exemplary in the hotness department.

The maximum score for each of these criteria is 5 points, making the perfect score a 15, but because of the bonus points, a 20 is, hypothetically, possible. 

With that out of the way, let me dive right into it. 

5. The fastest interview ever with Ben Schwartz from Sonic the Hedgehog

Entertainment: 5 Education: 2 Exaltation: 2 Hotness: +2 Total Score: 11

Pat Gill is a good interviewer, he’s engaging and fun and keeps the interview interesting, but this interview is particularly special because it seems that, and let me quote Youtube user AudreyN who left a comment on this video stating “ben schwartz consumed all seven chaos emeralds prior to this interview.” Pat Gill and Ben Schwartz’s dynamic is amazing, and by “dynamic” I do mean “Ben Schwartz absolutely just fucking dunking on Pat Gill for 14 entire minutes.” and it is glorious.

For Entertainment this scores a solid 5. Quite honestly the funniest interview I’ve ever watched in my entire life. Just the sheer beauty in the exchange [Pat] “You would use Sonic’s power to gaslight me?” [Ben] “Just you.” In terms of Education, I guess I did learn a bunch of things about the Sonic movie that I didn’t know before, but the avenue by which it was portrayed in was not exactly the most engaging, more like I was absorbing it via watching two experts discuss on a webinar. I would have given just 1 point to Education but I made it 2 because of the wonderful knowledge that Pat Gill can draw a pretty good Sonic in a few seconds. When it comes to Exaltation, I must admit that while this video got quite a few laughs out of me, it didn’t make me want to get out of bed and take a shower. 

BONUS: Pat is +2 hot in it. His short hair makes him look very handsome. He’s a spiffy boy, in this video. Very, very good.  

4. Pat Will Not Tweet at Nintendo This Week Because He is Resting at Home — PLEASE RETWEET, Episode 12 

Entertainment: 5 Education: 0 Exaltation: 5 Hotness: +1 Total Score: 11

I know I’m breaking a rule I set for myself a few paragraphs earlier by including an episode of Please Retweet, which counts as a video series, but this is my post and I can do whatever I want. More importantly, this video is so fucking funny to me, it feels like it would be a crime not to put it in this list. 

Solid 5 out of 5 for entertainment. Pat Gill, alone in his apartment, drinking six cans of what I think is beer silently while the intro music plays. That scene in itself should win an Oscar. Sadly, a solid 0 for Education, because I learn nothing in this video except for the fact that Pat Gill is the type of person to put out a coaster and then just completely not use it. I quantify things as educational if I can maybe answer a trivia question with them, and unfortunately, this fact does not pass that test. In terms of Exaltation, seeing Pat Gill lie down on the floor next to his cat made me get out of bed to do the same with my dog, and with myself thusly out of my bed cocoon of sadness, I was able to actually complete tasks on the day I watched this video. Perfect 5.

BONUS: Pat is +1 hot in this because there’s something very beautiful about him being a little bit miserable. However, I do miss his beard when I watch this video. It is one of my favorite things about him, and it is not present here.

3. Pat and Simone Play Human: Fall Flat

Entertainment: 5 Education: 1 Exaltation: 5 Hotness: 0 Total Score: 11

I very much enjoy Polygon’s gameplay streams. I often play them in the background while I’m doing other stuff like doodling or origami, but this stream is special. It is special because of the moment at 24:00 when Pat Gill, in game, swings a stereo into a glass window, shattering it, while saying, “Actually, y’know what? Let’s talk about trauma.” and then proceeds to tell a horrible and embarrassing story from his childhood where he had to do a rap about Ancient Egypt. 

5 points for Entertainment. This is partly because of Pat’s tragic childhood story about the Egypt Rap (and, segue just to point out 33:22 the incredible moment where you can hear Pat’s feral panic when Simone finds the lyrics to the Egypt Rap) but also because Pat and Simone just talking to each other is so deeply entertaining to me in a very comfy way. I’m starved for human interaction, in this quarantime, okay. Let me enjoy listening to other people have conversations while playing video games. Education scores a 1 because, again, nothing in this video will let me answer a trivia question, however it does get 1 point and not a 0 because the Egypt Rap’s lyrics are in the comments and I did end up learning stuff about Ancient Egypt that I didn’t know. A perfect 5 for Exaltation because this video showed me that talking about trauma can actually be cathartic, given that you’re trashing a video game living room at the same time, and I think that message of not bottling up your experiences really helped me, in these trying times.

BONUS: Pat Gill is not visible for the entirety of this episode, so he scores the standard 0. I’m sure he was hot. We just couldn’t see him.  

2. Why Bloodborne and Muppets are the same thing

Entertainment: 4 Education: 4 Exaltation: 3 Hotness: +2 Total Score: 12

Ah yes, one of Pat’s “x is y because of z” videos. He’s made a number of these and they’re all very good but this one is my favorite among them and earns a spot on this list because 1) I think puppets are cool and 2) I fucking love monsters. 

This video scores a 4 on Entertainment, just shy of perfect, because as funny as it is, it also gives me the vibe like I am being lectured by a professor who’s just a little bit off the shits. And we all know that lectures are supposed to be taken seriously. Which brings us to Education, which also scores a 4. I learned a lot in this video! Watching Pat Gill explain to me that children’s puppets and these horrifying viddy game monsters use the same character principles in different ways is not only very educational but is also explained in a streamline and easy to understand manner that I WISH some of the shitty professors at my old university could emulate. As for Exaltation, while this video did give me enough energy to have a meal, I did eventually end up back in bed for the night at 8pm crying myself to sleep, thinking “I’m like the slime scholar. Used to be a scholar. Now they’re slime.” 

BONUS: Pat Gill is +2 hot here. He’s rockin that basic ass monochromatic aesthetic and I love his look dearly. 

1. Preparing for Big Boy Season in Red Dead Redemption 2 

Entertainment: 5 Education: 3 Exaltation: 5 Hotness: +3 Total Score: 16

Here we are. My favorite non video series Pat Gill video. The video where Pat Gill tries to make Red Dead Redemption 2 protagonist, Arthur Morgan, large. 

Perfect fucking 5 for Entertainment, which I’m sure many may find odd. Afterall, this video is told in a serious investigative tone reminiscent of Vox’s videos on current issues. But that’s the glory of it. The complete and utter ‘playing it straight and serious’ for a ridiculous issue in a video game. It is high tier comedy in a subtle, understated way that sings to my comedy loving heart in a melody so lovely, so wonderful, that it urged me to give this video 5 points for Entertainment. It scores 3 on Education, because I have never played Red Dead Redemption 2, nor will I ever, but now I know things about it. The information was also relayed to me in a very interesting style, via something like a crime procedural, and thus it was engaging for me to absorb all this new knowledge. Exaltation scores a perfect 5 because of this video’s beautiful end about existential smallness. No joke, but hearing Pat Gill say “Our bigness isn’t measured in pounds, but in the impact we have on the people with whom we shared the world.” deadass made me want to talk to my friends again after conversationally isolating myself for 3 days. Preparing for Big Boy Season has a special place in my heart. And there it will stay.

BONUS: Pat Gill is not visible for most of the video but he does appear for like 15 seconds in the middle of it, and guess what. He’s hot. +3 hotness. Good beardage, good hair, all in all, good Pat Gill. 

So there you have it. My five favorite Pat Gill videos. If you read this whole thing, holy shit. You’re welcome, I guess.

[violetwolfraven]

If you’re still taking requests maybe 1+4 for Sprace?

Canon-era in general

And

Soulmate AU

I am always taking requests, my dude. Anyway here we go! This is mostly in the musicalverse but if I reference a few movieverse characters as older Newsies during Race’s childhood...😏 Also there are a couple of ocs in here, and it gets a bit angsty towards the end. Enjoy!

Tw: Underage drinking, a couple of side characters are mentioned to have died, and homophobia is kind of implied, I guess?

...

Race had grown up knowing that he liked boys, and that didn’t really match up with what people said love was supposed to be, but that was just how Race was.

And it wasn’t like it was hurting anyone, was it? Being only a little kid, Race was too young to actually do anything, and if he sometimes paid attention to the way a friend looked really cute when he’d just woken up, it didn’t matter. It wasn’t like he had to or even could act on those little crushes.

It was like Manhattan’s leader, Waffles, said. He called it ‘puppy love’ when Jack snuck glances at a girl his age on the street or Crutchie shyly gave one a flower when he handed her mother a pape. Nobody actually acted on these things.

Little baby crushes when you were a kid meant nothing, and that meant that Race would outgrow this and start liking girls in time to meet his soulmate, right? Because soulmates meant a boy with a girl, and nothing else, right?

At least, that was what he thought, until he and Jack walked into an alley when Race was 8 and Jack was 10 and found a couple of older boys kissing—which Race was pretty sure you were only supposed to do with someone you loved.

Snitch and Itey jumped apart, staring at the younger boys in shock. Then they each grabbed one and dragged them into the Lodging House bathroom to tell them that Race and Jack could not tell anyone.

Race was too scared to speak (Snitch and Itey were significantly bigger than him) but Jack stepped in front of him and demanded to know why.

That was when Itey sighed, said that maybe it would be better if Waffles explained this, and gone to get their leader.

Race hadn’t really believed it at first when Waffles sat them down and carefully explained that Itey and Snitch were soulmates.

“That ain’t possible,” Jack argued, “They’s both boys.”

“Yeah,” Waffles said, “And maybe it’s a cruel trick of fate or a mistake or whatever the church thinks, but here with the Manhattan Newsies? We don’t care. Okay? We’s a family. We don’t turn on Itey and Snitch for somethin’ they can’t control.”

“Why would we turn on them?” Race asked, confused. That was what this was; confusing.

Waffles sighed, “Look, among family, it’s okay. We don’t care who your soulmate is. But the rest of the world does, okay? Adults don’t know nothin’. They think boys lovin’ boys and girls lovin’ girls is wrong.”

“Would Itey and Snitch get hurt if adults found out?” Jack asked.

“Yeah, kiddo, they would. And that’s why you can’t tell no one, okay, boys? Nobody outside the house finds out and no new kids either ‘till we know we can trust ‘em. Okay?”

“Okay,” they both said, and though, like most people, Itey and Snitch kept their soulmarks covered, as it was something intensely personal and none of anybody’s business, from there, Race started realizing that he should have seen something between them a long time ago.

It was fairly obvious, in how they shared a bed, snuck off occasionally, and sometimes let touches of reassurance or affection linger a bit longer than they probably should.

Race started noticing how the other older kids covered for them. How Skittery would knock something over, allowing them to slip out together under the excuse of not wanting to help him clean it up. How Boots would make a joke to draw attention to himself if they started getting too obvious. How Waffles would take on any new kid thinking of selling with them, himself, so they had an excuse to keep being just the two of them.

It was... nice, in a mushy kind of way that they had that support. And Race didn’t really think seriously about kissing his crushes yet, but he did wonder if he would have that if he did.

Race’s soulmark—the first name of his soulmate that appeared on his wrist on his 10th birthday—was Sean.

It was a boy’s name. That scared Race a little.

But every time he saw the older Manhattan kids go out of their way to make sure nobody noticed Itey and Snitch, he got a little less scared, but still a bit confused

He stopped being scared, at least mostly, when Jack came to him, nervously confessing that he liked girls and boys, and his soulmark said a boy’s name; David. There was something less scary about being different when you didn’t have to be alone in it.

Of course, among the Newsies, finding your soulmate was always a little complicated, because damn near everybody had nicknames. Honestly, Race‘s soulmate could be almost any of his friends for all he knew, but he liked to think he didn’t. He liked to think he’d know immediately if he found him.

Race was 10 when he started selling at Sheepshead, having a deal with a Brooklyn girl, Palomino. She got to use his cuteness for easy sales, and in return, she taught him to weaponize just the right combination of friendliness, flirtation, and annoyance to get people do to pretty much whatever he wanted.

Race asked her when he was 11 what she thought about soulmates, particularly same-sex soulmates. He wanted her opinion because while Palomino was kind of an asshole, there was one thing she was really good at, and that was survival.

And Race wasn’t sure what he thought about the fact that his soulmate was a boy yet, but he knew that just living as someone like that, you had to be careful to survive.

‘Mino just shrugged, “Love is unreliable, Racer. It never does what you want it to and more often than not, it’s a liability. Soulmates ain’t an exception just cause they’s supposed to be together.”

“What about boys lovin’ other boys and girls lovin’ other girls?”

“The fuck did I just say? Love’s a liability. Feelin’s get ya hurt—even more so if those feelin’s is illegal.”

Race struggled to get what he was really asking across, “But if it’s illegal... does that make it wrong?”

‘Mino’s face softened infinitesimally. No one who didn’t know her would even recognize it as softening.

“What did I teach ya, kid? Long as ya don’t get caught, nothin’s illegal. Whether ya love girls or boys or both ain’t my business—it’s still stupid. Now, come on. If we place our bets right, we can both go home with some extra dough.”

Yeah... Race never mastered the whole ‘winning bet-placing’ thing. He never accepted Palomino’s offers to teach him to pickpocket, either, though there were winters where he wished he did.

And he never believed her when she said love was stupid. Because Palomino might have a cynical, angry outlook on life, but Race didn’t. Whenever he asked Waffles or Jack or any of the kids back home in Manhattan, they always said love and soulmates were good things.

Of course, it wasn’t like her opinion mattered anymore. After that winter when Race was 11, he never saw his old mentor again.

Sure, Race didn’t know anything about love besides the platonic bond he had with friends, but he still believed in it with how he saw pairs of his friends fall into it more and more as he got older. Love and soulmates made people happy. That much, he could tell.

Race was 16, Jack was Manhattan’s leader, and he’d been selling at Sheepshead for years when he learned that it wasn’t always that simple.

He and his friend Spot were a little drunk, probably, because Spot had gotten hurt in a fight and hadn’t wanted to drink his cheap booze to dull the pain alone.

Race had met him when he was 12 and Spot was 13, not long after Spot became King of Brooklyn. In the last 4 years, they’d become close friends. He was Race’s best friend, to be honest, besides maybe Albert. Of course, Jack and Crutchie didn’t count because they were more Race’s brothers.

And if Spot was like, really attractive, that didn’t matter. He wasn’t interested in Race. Race didn’t even know if he was interested in boys, period. It was just never something they talked about.

Spot didn’t seem like a Sean, anyway.

“Hey, Spot, buddy, do you ever think about... like... soulmates?” Race asked, trying not to slur his words.

Spot laughed kinda tiredly, “Sometimes. Why?”

“Just ‘cause...” Race tried to think despite his mind being fuzzy, “What do ya think about ‘em?”

Spot just shrugged, “Love’s a liability. Soulmates ain’t an exception.”

“Ooh, I see you’s usin’ Palomino’s philosophy.”

They both laughed.

Was it just the booze making Race slow, or were Spot’s eyes lingering on his lips as he put his cigar in his mouth?

“Oh, Palomino,” he muttered, “That bitch. I ain’t thought about her in a while.”

“That ain’t nice—she’s dead, Spottie.”

“Yeah, which means she ain’t here to care what I say ‘bout her.”

Race’s laugh sounded drunk even to him, “She tried to teach me to pickpocket.”

“She did teach me to pickpocket.”

“Spot, you son of a bitch, you actually let her teach ya to steal?”

“She taught all the younger Brooklyn kids when I was little. She was older and smarter than me, so’s I kinda did whatever she told me. I don’t steal nowadays though, if I can help it. Ain’t worth the trouble with the bulls.”

“She was pretty smart,” Race admitted, “I dunno if she was right ‘bout soulmates, though.”

Spot looked away from Race’s face, taking another swig of alcohol, “She was.”

Race took another sip of his own drink, a bit disappointed, for some reason, “How do ya know?”

“Because Waffles was hers and they both knew it and it just hurt ‘em both.”

“Oh,” Race looked at the floor, “I didn’t know that.”

“Yeah,” Spot laughed, “One pair of Newsies actually landed right side up and it was the one where both of ‘em died.”

“That ain’t funny, Spot.”

Race hadn’t thought about ‘Mino in a while, either. Honestly, he hadn’t even thought about Waffles, and that made him sad because they both deserved to be remembered and—

“Hey, hey, Racer, it’s okay. Don’t cry. That was stupid of me.”

Race remembered to hug Spot gently as his friend embraced him. They were drinking for a reason, so Race avoided touching Spot’s ribs. Instead, he wrapped his arms around his neck.

Spot didn’t hug often, but when he did, it felt special. It felt warm and safe, like home.

“I’m sorry, Race, I just... they actually wound up as a girl and a boy and they wasn’t together, but they should’ve been and... I’m sorry. Don’t cry.”

“I ain’t gonna cry.”

Spot pulled away enough to look him in the eye to make sure he wasn’t lying.

Race couldn’t say he was sorry that Spot kept holding onto him. Their faces were very close together.

“Do ya really think love is stupid, Spottie?”

Spot shrugged, “Everyone I know what’s in it gets hurt. I mean... you’s seen what it does to Cowboy and Mouth, right? Knowin’ all it would take is one bad person findin’ out ‘bout them.”

“But they makes each other happy,” Race pointed out, “Ain’t that what’s really important?”

“I dunno, just seems easier not to have to worry ‘bout it. Soulmates is just another person who can hurt you or be used against you, and besides— just cause the universe says you’s supposed to be in love don’t mean ya have to. I sure don’t give a damn about whoever mine is.”

Race smiled, tapping the piece of cloth Spot used to cover his soulmark, “What’s the harm in your best friend knowin’, then?”

“Why?” Spot teased, “Hopin’ it’s you?”

“I’m fairly certain it ain’t,” Race said, “We’s known each other for years. If we was soulmates, we’d’ve found out by now. Still, ya never have shown me your mark.”

“You haven’t shown me yours, either.”

“Fair.”

Race thought about it for a second.

“What if we showed ‘em at the same time? I mean, ain’t no harm in it, right? Only one of my close friend’s Marks I ain’t seen is yours.”

“Yeah,” Spot muttered, “Same for me, I guess. Showin’ ‘em at the same time sounds fair.”

“Course it is,” Race let go of him, still staying sitting pretty close, and untied the strip of cloth from his own wrist, “Ready?”

Spot untied his, “Set.”

“Go.”

They showed their soulmarks at the same time. By the time of day, it was almost too dark for Race to read the text on his friend’s wrist.

Almost.

Anthony.

“Shit,” Race mumbled under his breath, “Oh my God.”

Spot was still silent, just staring in shock at the name on Race’s wrist.

Any chance of it being a different Anthony was gone, now, by the look on his face.

“Spot...”

Spot finally looked him in the eye, and Race could see pain there, but also some kind of... relief.

Race knew exactly how he felt. He’d somehow... well, he hadn’t expected it, but it wasn’t surprising, either.

He was glad it was Spot. He was glad it was someone he already knew. Someone he already... already loved.

Race dared to lean a little closer, knowing Spot would read his intentions and pull away if he wanted to.

He didn’t pull away, though his deep breath was shaky.

Their faces were close enough that Race could smell what they’d been drinking on Spot’s breath.

He didn’t see any signs of him not wanting it, so Race leaned forward enough to kiss Spot as softly as he knew how.

For a second, he thought maybe Spot was kissing him back, and then hands were on his shoulders, gently pushing him away.

When Race opened his eyes, his soulmate had an extremely pained look on his face, and he was already grabbing his strip of cloth to cover his wrist again.

“I’m—“

“Don’t be sorry, Race,” he said quietly, “Just... go. You’s gonna have to run for it or you’ll miss the last carriage to hitch a ride home.”

A small part of Race was hurt and angry and wanted to argue that, no, they needed to talk about this and they needed to talk about it now.

But Spot looked agonized enough as it was, and the larger part of Race didn’t want to cause him any more pain.

He stood up and walked all the way back home.

[joshhhhhhhhhhhhhhh]

Ladies, gentlemen, and whatever formal all-encompassing term can be used for “other”, we’ve reached our first episode 12 of the season, thanks to Higurashi! Cause for celebration? Not at all! And hey the show’s not even over - we’ve still got a cour to get through. But hey, uh, I sure can open a post in this way, huh?

Moving on. This is another episode where a lot of time is spent on not a lot of content, though the pacing of the scenes and where the narrative is going justify that, so it never feels too slow or boring or whatever. Basically, we’re still getting everyone to go complain to CWS about Satoko, however, Chie’s actually had some pressure put on her to like, make it stop, which she tells Keiichi to do. And what’s great about this scene is that Keiichi doesn’t like, fly into a rage or anything at all. He’s clearly not happy about it, but he makes his respect for Chie clear and makes specific inquiries about the problem and so that he can do something about it. And what he learns is basically that city’s council - I believe the Onigafuchi Defence Squad was their name? - they don’t want to be in shit with the governmnent over Hojo family stuff, and that’s why they’re trying to get Chie and Keiichi to cave. But none of them are actually like, opposed to helping Satoko because of the Hojo thing, it’s just that nobody publically forgave the Hojos for their part in the dam project so now everyone is afraid to step forward and whatnot. It’s Keiichi and the girls coming forward to tell those crusty old bastards “hey shut the fuck up and don’t be weak coward bitches” that gets them to cave, and the day is saved!

Mostly. Because now Keiichi has to convince this bundle of joy

Yep. So the town council can’t actually go ahead with supporting Keiichi unless they get the head of the Sonozaki family’s approval, that head currently being this lady. Sidenote - anyone wanna tell me why she’s the current head but Mion is next in line? Sonozaki mom is right there, why doesn’t she get a turn? But anyway, she is a really crusty old bastard, so Keiichi's appeal doesn’t go quite as smoothly, and this bitch calls Satoko a cursed child and some shit, threatens to gut Keiichi up and throw him in the old well and shit. Fucked up. I will say that this is the weakest part of the episode, in so far as the conclusion is that Keiichi doesn’t appear to convince her, then we all just leave her alone, and mom comes out and is all “yeah you’ve got our approval now, deep down the old lady wanted the Hojo thing resolved before she died”. And it just felt like, I guess a little unearned. Or, not so much unearned as just, I don’t know what made the old lady change her mind. Could’ve been done better, oh well.

And that’s functionally the end of the episode. Woah, a five episode arc? Wild. Looking forward to next week’s.

There are a few miscellaneous things worth mentioning though. First is that at the start of the episode, two randos speculate that it’ll be the Hojos that are gonna get fucked at the next Watanagashi, so maybe we’re not on track to rescue Satoko at all and she’ll just be Oyashiro’d away. Who knows.

There’s reason to suspect that’s not the case though, as two things Rika says this episode draw a lot of attention to Keiichi's ability to save people. More specifically, she says

"Keiichi can break this terrible fate, I know this myself"

And

“You [Keiichi] taught me that destroying fate is as easy as tearing through wet paper”

Now Keiichi's not really sure where this confidence Rika has in him comes from, and all she really says when he asks is just “it’s a secret”. My genius level deduction skills have made me come to the conclusion that both of these lines are in reference to the older anime which I’ve yet to see, and also to that Hanyuu person we’ve met and don’t know shit about. These lines fuckin intrigue me though, like I already want to watch the older anime and stuff, but now that I’m hearing Rika talk about these things Keiichi did for her, I want to like go back and see what she’s talking about! This is why, speaking as a newcomer, I don’t really feel like it’s a problem that this series has spoiled certain elements of the old show, because all that that’s done is make me want to watch the old anime more. That seems fair, right? And once again spoilers won’t ruin the work or else nobody would want to rewatch it and it would have no value beyond the surprise factor. Still don’t fully spoil me on the older anime obviously since I still enjoy that surprise factor but like, you know.

But yeah, I enjoyed this episode. Certain elements of it could’ve been done better but I liked the spirit of it, I like that Keiichi manages to feel rational even when he’s telling an old lady he’ll split her fucking skull open, and I like that it’s made me want to watch the old anime even more than I already did. Cool time.

[hellohellohellobingmetropcs]

Sum lite 🤨

Zion was ordered by management to apologize to the beanz on your behalf for your breakdown on live.

His jealous fans finally got under your skin after 4 months of officially dating. This being the reason Zion kept his relationship offline. You were no secret to his friends and fam.

Of course he’d subtweet you on the timeline so fans were under the impression there was a lady in his life, but who?

In a state of pure bliss and love you posted a pic of you and Zion from your camera roll, tagging him in the picture on your public Instagram.

The next morning fans poured in with the screenshot, summing up his subtweets and little hints with your picture to confirm the relationship.

Zion being the fan favorite member, making you the most hated girlfriend out the gang. The other guys’ girlfriends got hate but also received much more love from fans than you.

Out of boredom you decided to go live on Instagram, just seeing what was up in the world. You rolled your eyes at some comments, making a mental note to block the accounts later.

“None of you know me. Shit, you don’t even know Zion!”

You sighed in frustration, pulling your hair up in my messy bun. Now they were calling you rude and telling you that you didn’t deserve Zion.

“Everytime he posts a pic of us here comes 50 of you calling me a gold digger— on my life everything I have is because of me. Nobody gave me shit. I don’t ask Zion for shit. Anything he gives me is a gift”

Zion nodded to himself in agreeance as he watched the video with his headphones on.

PrettyMuch were flying back to California from Florida for some promo for their new album. First thing on his mind was to get back to you and shower you with his love which he knew you needed right now.

“Then there’s the ones who think I wanna steal clout. Bro fuck y’all. Honestly”

You reached down to Simba, setting him on your lap. You cuddled him, watching more and more hate comments fill your screen. As easy as it is to just turn off the screen, everyone knew you and Zion to be the outspoken couple. A thing never got past you two without being addressed.

“Y’all are delusional as fuck. You’re like 15 behind a fanpage and only spread hate? Go do your homework”

Zion grew a little angry with his supporters as the tears in your eyes welled up. He couldn’t wrap his head around why people that support him want to make his significant other feel bad. You’ve been nothing but quiet when fans disrespect you online because you understood what it was like to be boy crazy over a boy band in your teen years and not like the idea of your idol dating.

Today was where you’ve had enough because in person you’d never let the disrespect slide like that.

“I don’t even know why I’m upset. I don’t care about what y’all think. That’s my husband .. yes we’re married, don’t ask. I’m not going anywhere”

After the complied clips of the livestream came an old video of you two kissing. In the background Zion could hear himself say he loves you.

The video splattered a hint of blush across his yellow cheeks, making him eager to get home.

Time had crept up on you when Zion’s appearance startled you from your book. It was 11pm already and you knew he had a late flight so you stayed up.

“Are you mad?”

He chuckled, already knowing what you were referring to. “Baby you can’t just go off on fans like that”

“Z I’m sorry. They just ..” you let a harsh sigh, circling the room as the anger re-entered your veins.

“Don’t cry mamas. Talk to me”

You hadn’t noticed the hot tears falling from your eyes until Zion mentioned it, pulling you into a warm hug.

“they make me so mad” you muttered out.

“They’re kids babe. Calm down love” his thumb wiped away your tears, pressing his lips over your swollen pair.

“You’re smart, funny, sexy, crazy .. everything I want in a woman. Fuck them kids! I’m in love with you, not who they think you are on the internet”

“You’re quite the looker yourself kuwonu. I love you too”

“I’m gonna shower I’m tired”

“Tired?” His hands slid down your back, thumbs drawing circles over your back dimples “Baby let me put you to sleep”

You laughed at his devastation to come, spinning out of his grip and making your way towards the bathroom for a hot shower before bed. “My cycle is on you hornball”

He mentally cursed himself knowing he was waiting for this day since the day he left. His favorite hello and goodbye present is always sex. He’d be broke if he was paid to keep his hands off you.

You did as you said, falling right asleep instantly after the wash. Zion was in awe of how you’d mindlessly for for one of his shirts instead of actual pajamas at night.

Before the night was over he wanted to get the whole live situation out the way and under wraps.

He set up his laptop in his desk, heading straight to Instagram for a live session. Fans poured in with their thoughts and opinions on your from earlier, he read a few just to see where their heads were at before going in.

“Hey guys I just wanted to hop on here and say wassup” he waved to the camera, watching as greetings poured in from his devoted fans.

One question about you caught his attention. He stayed quiet as he pondered on how to address the situation.

Looking into the camera he could still see you sound asleep in his bed with his T-shirt on.

“Most of you know this .. (Y/N) is my girlfriend and she’s been around for a while now. Like she said she’s not going anywhere any time soon so get used to her. Also, be nice. The name-calling is childish and if you were a true fan of mine you’d understand she makes me really happy. I’d hate to lose her over something like my own fans bullying her. It makes me sad that I even have to address this .. bullying isn’t ever ok. I’ve talked to her about what she said and she’s really sorry if she offended anyone and if that’s not great enough, I am too. I love you all so much and I love (y/n) too. Okay now that that’s out the way I’m about to shower and hop in bed with my lady. I’m really tired. So much new shit coming to you guys so stay tuned! Bye guys”

On that note he ended the live, doing exactly as he planned. The cool night air whipping around your body as he lifted the covers to slide into bed with you after his shower. The bed sank in on his side making you roll into him, wrapping your arms around him. He smiled to himself, dropping a hand on your ass per usual as his own tiredness took over him.

Masterlist

[moodysnowflake]

Please mind the Spoiler slap that might come your way guys...

Let’ talk about Rufus Shinra.

Yes, he has been exploited better than the OG, and yes, once you get the hint the assesment is trying to throw at you, it’s easier to whack his butt.

He still beats the crap out of you. 

We have to realize that Rufus is a normal human being. He’s not a Turk either. Sure, he was a prodigy and has been trained by the military, and he might have trained with the Turks too during his “extended assignment oversea” (despite being him the boss, I bet Reno would still try to zap him in the crotch, if left unsupervised). Rude would gave him a sturdy run for his money (of course pun intended) and Tseng did probably manage to wipe the floor with his gorgeous platinum-blond ass at least once when they were younger. Rufus manages to stand his ground against Cloud, a final-stretch-game Cloud. Not an early-game Cloud. You have to run, dodge, parry and dive like hell, and when he hits you, it fluffing hurts. He’s the only human enemy in the Remake who actually manages to do some serious damage using a firearm. 

He’s been designed to do that, you might say. Well, yeah, duh, he’s still the only one, so that’s awesome.

Moreover, he doesn’t actually look exhausted, nor particularly beaten up when the battle ends; he just smirks his way out. We couldn’t appreciate it in the OG, but heck yes we can now. 

We might argue that’s all a façade, and I think that part of it could very well be true. Cloud did roughed him up after all. Plus, that’s his character, he would never show a speck of vulnerability (”nobody has ever see him bleed or cry” - can we seriously blame him for becoming an ice prince?).  And he’s not stupid; once he’s disarmed, he immediately opts for strategic retreat. He’s not a brainless goof, he recognized his huge disavantage: a true tactician indeed.

Him and Cloud's battle dialogue...is it just me, or did they sound like ex-boyfriends angrily snapping at each other?...

C: Think you got my number? [Cloud?]

R: Not at all. You’re making me sweat. Good thing I came prepared. [Rufus?]

C: That’s a new trick.

R: Like it? ‘Course you do.

[Did they actually meet in Before Crisis?!]

R: Let’s make it a night to remember.

Okay guys, seriously, tone it down a notch, would you? That’s too much gold for a single scene!

His outfit might not have us all agreeing, I can totally see why. That off-white contrast to Cloud’s pitch black tho...

Here’s the knot my brain is twisting itself over.

The question slammed my brain like a train, pretty much the same as Rufus’.

I don’t know, you tell me how the heck are you seeing the Whispers...

Tseng going:

Rufus looks at him like “Wait, what? You’re not seeing this shit? You kidding, right?” then proceeds to glare him into submission, either because he thinks Tseung might imply he’s not okay after the fight and he might be suffering some side-effects, or he’s mocking him.

[If it’s the last one, that would open another pit of thoughts, like: if he thinks Tseng is teasing him, that means that happened before. If that happened before, it means he’s not a utter cold-blooded bastard, and they interacted like functional(ish) human beings up to the point of joking. What is this? Solid character background? OG-wise, we know he’s not a saint, but we also know he’s not totally batshit cracker either. Because WRO and Avalanche. (Can’t wait for Barret’s reaction when that’ll happen. That’s gonna be spectacular XD)

Reno’s line ‘You’re sure you wanna do this by yourself, boss? (ENG)//That’s dangerous (JAP)’ could support this theory, even if we know he would talk back to Sephiroth himself.]

Untill now it’s evident that he being able to see them is “Because Plot“

But my spider senses are tingling, feeling something lurking below.

He didn’t seem to be able to see them on the platform while Cloud’s smacking his way through. That could be arguable, ‘cause spotting dark stuff in a dark background is not that easy. 

But after the Edge of Creation cutscene (and that’s another thing I’ll talk about later), he’s pretty well able to do that. And he’s the first character we see...

So what happened in between?

Well, there’s Wedge scene...but that’s the only thing we’re allowed to see. 

Based on what’s happening in the game, you’d be able to see the Whispers because of Aerith/Sephiroth’s intervention or because the Whispers need you to see them.

That create some interesting choices, which might combine, ‘cause they’re not mutually exclusive:

1. Rufus finds/saves Wedge, or the Whispers are bringing Wedge to him (very unlikely, but you know, overthinking is so fun). He was minding his own businnes, and Wedge suddenly appears. If this happens, I don’t think he’s gonna kill him...Because Avalanche (and because if you resist Wedge’s puppy eyes you don’t have a heart, nor a soul). Yes, he’s ruthless, I know, but there are times during the story in which he doesn’t behave like a complete dickhead. Very few times. But maybe the Whispers need for Rufus and Wedge to meet, and maybe that’s what happened in the hall.

Also, my useless rambling neuron got stuck over a very stupid, very impossible, but very cute idea why Rufus wouldn’t kill him: what if Wedge and Rufus know each other? Barret and the other knows his face, but what about Wedge? Maybe somehow they casually met in Junon, or (god forsake it, my heart) even before in Midgar he saved him from whatsoever situation and he never mention it? Chances are never really zero in FFVII, but I’m well aware that this is far-fetched...like, a lot. 

How cute would it be if Wedge woke up with Rufus crouched down there, skeptically looking at him.

‘What are you doing here?’

To which he would chirp “Hey Rufus, long time no see! How’re you doing? I thought you were still in Junon.”

‘I’m the boss here, I ask the questions. What are all these creepy things flying around.’

“Well, I don’t have that much of a clear idea...Also, you’re not my boss!“

‘That’s not helping. Also, technically, yes Wedge, I am.’

”Huh?”

‘I’m Rufus Shinra. (smug smirk)’

“I know that dummy (Rufus would scrunch up his face), what I don’t understand is how that would make you my boss. Blowing up one of your reactors using your explosive can’t make me pass as construction worker.” 

‘I am not your boss because of Shinra. I am your boss because I’m the boss of the boss of your boss.’

“WAIT, WHAT?!”

*Whispers taking him away*

2. Sephiroth has a brief chat with him during the moment he’s left on his own (while we’re fighting his true self in the singularity). In the OG, Rufus always had this incontrollable drive to find Sephiroth, an inespicable and obsessive draw to hunt him down, which only Cloud match (and he’s the one guarding Jenova’s remants in Advent Children...). And no, it’s not because he killed his father...we know how idyllic that relationship was. That spark could have been started here.

3. A combination of the two. Because why not.

4. Something else within him helped the trigger.

Speaking about this, I discovered some interesting info. The Remake has retconned his age from 25 to 30, flopping back his birthday from 1982 to 1977. Five years shouldn’t make that much of a difference. We can agree, artistic licence. 

Too bad 1977 is also the exact same year Jenova’s remnants have been discovered...As well as the very start of the machination for Project S and Project G.

Using Dirge of Cerberus as reference, 1982/1983 should approximatly be Sephiroth’s birthyear. Which leaves 5 years of preparation.

Is this a coincidence? Maybe. Or maybe the president let Hojo start to experiment on baby Rufus as he saw fit. Nobody would convince me that the president wouldn’t have done it, those two are just too fucked up. That could explain why he was so flipping good with a shotgun since he was 10, why he managed to face a SOLDIER without turning into minced meat (he didn’t show negative repercussions because he could have been resistant to mako poisoning, like Zack; plus he is the only human enemy with some resistance to Poison and Magic), why the president didn’t kill him when he sided with the Turk’s assassination attempt. That wasn’t paternal love; that was probably Hojo interceding to not have a succesfull test subject except Sephiroth eliminated, promising to have him brainwashed.

Like Cloud, despite Jenova’s cells, he wouldn’t be able to see the Whispers by his own. But Sephiroth, or Aerith, might have flipped the switch in some way. Or even Jenova’s or n#2′s bodies, to which we still have no idea what happened.

4.1. The annoyed/angry glare This could also be another reason for the angry/annoyed glare he shoots Tseng, like he’s saying “You know what I am” or “You know taking me down is not that easy”. The first one reminds me of Cloud’s line to Jessie...the look is pretty similar.

Another interpretation of this expression could be that he actually has, from time to time, some odd quirks or weird moments, residues of the mako treatment/cells' interaction. It is very likely that if that’s true, Tseng - and maybe even Rude and Reno - witnessed them.

That wouldn't surprise me: he’s sporting some serious dark circles under his eyes in this scene.

So, he could be also saying “What? Are we doing this again? You still think I’m frail and crazy? Do I have to beat that out of you like last time?”

5. He touched Jenova’s blood; it wouldn’t be that improbable, since it was smeared all over the floor. That might have done the trick by itself, or, if connected to point 4, he could have been drawn to it by the cells within him, which could have worked as catalyst. 

6. Any combination of two or more of the previous points. It’s Nomura Testuya we’re talking about, they could all be true for what we know. He’s a goddamn psycho: it’s easier to build a house with a sand-pail and a plastic shovel than understand Kingdom Hearts' series plot .

 Too many questions, but the revelation that Rufus can see the Whispers is very intriguing; the whispers needs him for something. Destiny needs him for something. That makes him an even more valuable character that he already was in the OG, and I’m glad they’re doing it. 

Nobody seems to be left behind (in character development sense) this time.

We can only wait and hope.

Wish you all the best, Rufie (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･: *

[hglog]

PBTA Spelljammer GLOG Thing?

Recently, my father dug up his old Traveller and MegaTraveller books for me, and after having a lot of fun reading through them, I can definitively say I don’t ever want to GM the system. But it got me in a space-gaming mood and my mind turned to two things. First, the Uncharted Worlds game I was once a player in, which seems to have borrowed a lot of the good aspects of Traveller and put them into a PBTA system, which I love very much. Second, the AD&D setting Spelljammer which is an amazing science-fantasy fever dream that I’ve unfortunately never gotten to experience firsthand. Naturally, I decided I’d make an RPG. And, ever since I discovered it, GLOG has basically consumed a large part of my mindspace whenever I think about RPGs.

Now it’s about a month later, and I have a lot written, but even more still to write. My biggest issue is getting my thoughts organized. I’m always a lot neater when I know other people are going to see my work. So, in a hope to make things more coherent for myself, I’m going to let you in on what I have to far.

What I like about Spelljammer

Science fiction minus the science

Practically any science fiction trope you can think of fits into the setting, but when it comes to the actual science, it’s this weird-ass mix of a classical Greek and medieval alchemist understanding of the cosmos.

You don’t have to worry about players “um, actually”-ing you about what happens in the vacuum of space, because it’s actually not even a vacuum!

Magic = FTL

Despite the previous point, its science is actually still relatively “hard” when it comes to internal consistency and logical consequences to its different laws of reality than our own. The magic, on the other hand, is magic. My headcanon is that the speed of light imposes a hard limit, but magic is the one thing able to ignore it.

While people could theoretically pull off a no-magic spacecraft launch (if they had a few thousand more years of technological development), for the most part, if something is in space, it’s probably because a wizard decided they wanted it to be in space.

Weird-ass spaceships

Since a spaceship is “anything you can put a spelljamming throne in,” you get a delightful mix of regular boats, classic pulp sci-fi or space opera spaceships, weird organic tentacled things, and whatever else strikes your fancy.

What if a dragon died and all the kobolds that worshipped it somehow got enough spell slots to just pilot its corpse into space and start fucking shit up?

Sadly, Spelljammer doesn’t offer a lot of customization, instead just relying on a wide catalogue of weird ships used by different aliens.

Wizards

What I like about PBTA

Adaptable to basically any setting

There is a great wealth of hacks I can draw from

These two points go hand in hand. I haven’t, however, been able to find a specifically spelljammer-inspired PBTA hack, so that’s why I’m doing this.

The PBTA games I’ve read through in creating this (so far) are  Uncharted Worlds, Dungeon World, and the original Apocalypse World.

Encourages little preparation

My biggest challenge in running a game that’s interstellar in scope is my instinct to pre-prepare everything, which is already problem if I think I need to make an entire country, let alone an entire planet. But now we’re talking not only a planet but every planet.

While you can do worldbuilding as the GM for a PBTA game, you can also not do any, and let the players do all the work for you upon character creation. Dungeon World is especially good at this.

It’s fun

I’ve enjoyed every PBTA game I’ve been a player or a GM for, no exceptions (so far).

It’s extremely easy to teach people

Most of my friends are not as into learning new systems as I am. But most of them have already played at least one PBTA system, and if they haven’t, it wouldn’t be as much of a hassle as say, AD&D or Traveller.

What I like about GLOG

The four-template class blueprint

If PBTA character sheets are streamlined, I don’t even know what I’d call GLOG character sheets.

I don’t know if I’d shave my classes down quite as much, but I’m definitely taking notes from GLOG’s designs.

GLOG spellcasting

This is one of the things I like most about GLOG.

Spell dice to power FTL? Maybe 1 die per 30 light years or whatever, and the sum determines how fast the trip can be made? Doubles and triples can be malfunctions or space pirate attacks or something.

A shit ton of classes

I think I’d like to limit it to 10 or so classes, but I’m definitely going to get inspiration from some of the weirder GLOG classes along with the classes fighters/wizards/rogues.

An emphasis on interesting problem-solving

I think this is more just good game design than GLOG itself.

Encourages taking a weirder spin on fantasy lore that’s often taken for granted

Again, this seems like it’s just good worldbuilding, but a lot of GLOGgish writings do this, and I’d like to follow in their footsteps.

What I like (and dislike) about Traveller

I don’t like how obtuse it is

Reading the book sort of overwhelms me. It’s like they didn’t even try to make it accessible. It’s just endless black text on a white background, tables and diagrams strewn about haphazardly, and no art, not even just at the beginnings and ends of sections. The cover is a black void to symbolize the state of my mind after reading three pages.

When it comes to spaceships, I like a lot of crunch and granularity in their design

Something I found myself wishing for when playing Uncharted Worlds was a more involved ship design process. While they did clearly take notes from Traveller, it’s nothing like the original.

I don’t know what it is about spaceships. Characters I like simple and streamlined, but I guess reading through power plant matrices and choosing software and balancing it all on a budget gets me into the headspace I actually believe a spaceship creator would be in, whereas I don’t think the creation of a person usually involves that sort of design process.

I'm neutral on the crunch for everything else, but I think it's at odds with PBTA sensibilities

Plus, as I sort of mentioned in the PBTA section, I want my mostly 5e-playing friends to be willing to test this with me.

I like the psionics

I really like psionics, and I think Traveller properly captures the feel that I like for them.

However, I’m not a fan of “anyone can test their psionic abilities and then roll to maybe get powers.” I’m going to have a psionic class, which a character can start in if they want to have psionic powers, or they can multiclass into later if they want to discover their psionic potential later on. If they don’t want their character to have latent potential, they can just never take any levels in the class.

I dislike the highly-defined setting

I know it’s supposed to be adaptable to most sci-fi settings, but the books reference their own universe and history so much that it doesn’t really feel that way.

How do I synthesize this all into one game?

Setting-wise, I’m mostly drawing from Spelljammer, as well as Star Wars, Numenera, and my own imagination. I don’t want to define many specific planets or empires or sectors or whatever since I prefer most of the worldbuilding work be done by players during character creation. Also, if you know of any very low-science space fantasy fiction that I should read, please send it my way.

I do have very specific ideas about how I want spaceships and space travel to work, which I think need their own post later. You might get a pretty good sense of what I’m going for from the Spelljammer and Traveller sections, though. My plan is to take advantage of something like Traveller’s very granular and in-depth ship creation to let players make their own completely batshit Spelljammer-style spaceships. I think a ship needs its own character sheet.

I’m doing the PBTA thing where each class has a character sheet. I haven’t decided whether I’m doing the standard 6 stats or making up some weird ones. The former is definitely easier to sell to people but I think the latter is cooler.  Also, since you need a spellcasting class to have FTL what do you do if nobody picks one? I don’t want to get in a situation where I have to tell them “one of you needs to switch classes,” that just feels bad and could create animosity. A solution I’m slightly leaning towards is having only one of each character sheet, then making sure there’s always one fewer non-spellcasting class option than there are players, so by pure mathematics someone will end up able to power the ship, and I don’t need to force anyone to change on my own. The issue there is then I can’t have more than 3-5 non-spellcasting class options depending on party size, and I’d prefer a larger and more varied class pool. Another option would be to have magic hirelings available, but I want spellcasters with the ability to do FTL to feel like these big, weird, and powerful personalities, so having them just available as hirelings sort of it cheapens that in my opinion.  Maybe it’s not actually important that the party always have access to their own interstellar travel? I could see the PCs being like a bunch of interstellar hitchhikers. Very Douglas Adams. 

That’s just about everything that I don’t think needs a separate post. I hope you enjoyed it, and if you have any thoughts about this potential horrible chimera of a system I’d love to hear them! You can reach me here through Tumblr or at Robot_Face#7919 on the OSR discord server.

[smutav]

So i posted the pictures I had for my xray and comic in this post here and I said id wait a year but I’ve decided I need to lay this project to rest and move on to what comes next. Its under the cut because its mad king heavy

the old man part was fully scripted out so I’m going to throw the script in here first then it’ll be just notes for the general plotline

(M) Old Man   = O1 / (J) Old Man   = O2 / Xray          = X / Vav           = V

we come in on Xray and Vav coming onto the scene but we start lookin at the old men

O2: "Uh Oh, the calvaries here" O1: "issit the popo? tell them they cant make me go back... to that horrible home... fulla old people..." O2: "No.. its those spandex kids again" O1: "Oh, the blue one confused me... so blue jus like those dirty cops" O2: "YOU'LL NEVER TAKE US ALIVE" [O2 throws something that lands nowhere near xray and vav] V : "Look you have to stop causing a ruckus!" O1: "ah ah ah prettyboy we got da bomb" O2: "Thats right if you get in our way it'll be a real stinker!" O1: "Uh Ohhhh"

X : "you have got to be kidding me" O1: "I'm too old for kidding, im old-ding over here" V : "What are you doing with a bomb!?" O2: "We've got demands!" O1: "Oh yeah lots of demands!" O2: "We want.... Pudding!" O1: "Oh yeah and none of that rice shit in there" O2: "get that rice out of our pudding no chunks!" O1: "itsa chokin hazard, I almost died when they had that at the home" O2: "thats why we left they was tryna kill us" O1: "But you only show up to stop two guys havin fun" O2: "Ya punks!" [Vav has snuck over to the obviously hidden 'stink bomb' and gags when he sees whats under the cover]

O2: "Ey!" [he smacks Vav with a cane] "gettaway from there" O1: "These two have no manners" O2: "they jus go touchin stuff that doesnt belong to them!" O1: "Well two can play at that game" [he moves towards Xray pointing at his glasses] "I want those" X : "How about I give you this instead" [he shoots a lazer at the old guy but it bounces off his walker] O1: "uh oh you shouldn't have done that" X : "oh yeah what if i do it again" [it really has the same result smart guy]

[Vav at the same time is dealing with.. a really slow old guy. and he dodges a punch an the old guy just keeps goin down and hits the ground] O2: "Ah! I'm hit thats it for me! [he tries to get up but just knocks himself over again] it's over for me I'm deadd. You killed me ya bastard" V : "I really didn--" O2: "this blood is on your handssss ohhh im goinnnn" [Vav backs off while the old man keeps slowly 'dying' to help out with Xray who's wrestling for his glasses from O1]

X : "Youre smudging up my glasses!" O1: "oh i'll do more than that" [he moves to take a lick at them] X : "no you dont!" [He punches the old man square in the jaw] O1: [catches himself on the walker] "you want a boxing match, i used ta have the belt ya know" [he lands a punch on xray who doesnt even flinch]

V : [Vav comes up from behind and pulls the old man away] O1: "No he's got me!" [he flails a bit but ineffectively to get out] "this is just like the 40s you cant stop all this" V : "We're sending you both back to the old folks home just stay there this time!" O1: "You'll never keep us caged! We'll always be ba-- Oh no is this a heart attack? Ma is that you in the light I'm-- I'm comin... comin to kick your dead ass" [and he's dead]

[Xray and Vav dump the old guys on an elderly bus they're used to dealing with these guys 'dying' and approach the stink bomb which is the stink jug but theres wires and stuff attached to supposedly detonate it] X: "Well I guess we'll have to deal with this" [he kicks the 'stink bomb' and Vav goes green] V: "I guess it'd be best to get it to Hilda she'll know how to get rid of it" X: "right lets go" [he starts walking leaving Vav to carry the barrel, poor vav]

I hope the notes after this make sense plot wise a lot of it was going to be explored deeper as we get drawing XDD ((also you get all my note writing jokes that i make to myself))

V = xray and vav / K = mad king / R  = rimmy tim / M = mogar

(V) - I need,, some basic everyday hero biz to start the story with - tIME TO THROW THE OLD MEN IN THERE (K) - He decides to try out his powers a lil test run ((around Hilda's lab)) - Xray and Vav crash the party ofc - He gets by them EASY slow mo can't do much against teleporting - He didn't have much of a goal for it but, now he knows he has the upper hand on Xray and Vav - He leaves victorious (V) - He gets the business end of a run in with ender ryan - What was that?? he can teleport?? - Well we have to figure something out! (R) - Rimmy Tim runs into Mad King - Which is wild! thought he was dead! - but he does have some weird ass shit going on (K) - Wow running into Rimmy Tim isnt that neat? - He pays no mind to the Battle Buddy (R) - Rimmy Tim is crashing at Jake's place ((to be relevant)) - He also meets Xray and Vav but nobody knows what his full deal is ((and theyre distracted from having they ass kicked))

(V) - Vav is the plan guy - They get intel that he has a weird power source - it gave him the powers so if they can figure it out maybe they can take them away! - We'll need to be stealthy boys... - MOGAR! - ask mogar for help, he distract while they sneak in and nab the gem (M) - The plan involves Mogar fighting Mad King up front - Mogar runs into Rimmy Tim and is suspicious of him (K) - Ofc he knew Xray and Vav would make a plan - Mogar comes to fight him aw they just decided to send a fwiend - Mad King is busy beating Mogar and doesn't notice that they got the gem ((Uh Oh! Plothole!)) (M) - They dont see him at the meeting place (K) - He Notices when he decides to experiment with it and tries out a lesser power source - Resulting in Zombie Mogar

(V) - They HAVE to find Mogar - poking around the outside for a sign of him they find his sword in the dumpster - thats,,, not good - its really heavy but if vav straps it to his back he can handle it - they wind up splitting up for any sign of Mogar (K) - Well if you're going to be rude about it - [teleports in the streets] - Have it your way do what you want - [and he leaves Mogar there] - when he teleports back Rimmy Tim is there and he quips ab how convenient tping is (R) - MK has him get rid of the new power source obviously a failure (V) - It gets dark but vav hears a noise in the alley - He finds Mogar! But he's eating something - Mogar growls and starts running at him - *british screaming* - As he BOOKS IT around a corner Xray runs into him and Vav just grabs his arm - NO TIME TO EXPLAIN - so what the plans just fucking run - oh wait thats Jake's van - *climbs in* wEHAVE TO GO HIT THE GAS - bro its a red light - iTS THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT THERES NO TRAFFIC JUST - Mogar jumps on the vAAAAAAAA - Thats enough to convince Jake she slams on the gas - " you guys are paying for any tickets i get"

((for context, Jake is my oc she has an ask blog that I was planning to use to be like in between she and rimmy tim are hanging out and you might find out things from interacting w her. But for character knowledge she’s an appliance installer that works with The Monarchy’s Servants. Which that is the company that installs the stuff that comes out of Monarch Labs. there was also a whole bit where she and rimmy tim would be hanging out and he’d be joking like oh do you ever go in like “ah m’lord!! is this installation to your liking thank you m’lord!!” and she’d goof back if he ever had a house for her to install shit in she’d do it just for him.

and for how Jake and Rimmy tim met it was at 3am dennys a few years ago and they been buds ever since))

(R) - Jake's checking on her van later and Rimmy Tim comes out to give a hand - and he asks what happened and she's shaking a lil - she just leaves it as hero biz as usual she thinks (V) - bloody hell we have to help mogar! - yeah what did Mad King do to him! - they gotta bait and catch him (R) - Jake gets a call from xray and vav asking for help getting mogar to a lab - Rimmy Tim tags along and gets to see Mogar (M) - Xray and Vav catch mogar and have him leashed in the lab - But?? Is he dangerous?? Can he contaminate others??

(R) - This is wrong - RYAN is wrong - Rimmy Tim,, Has to do something - discussion doesnt work, Ryan's just a wall discussion wise - theres no talking him out of anything he's too absorbed (V) - Mogar has good moments - reference the rotten flesh test w vav (K) - Rimmy Tim is getting increasingly worried ab him - Rimmy Tim mentions Mogar - Well it wasn't on PURPOSE - but yeah i did that - No, I don't particularly know how to reverse it (R) - Rimmy Tim tries talking hey what if we just did this partner like - Nothing can beat the battle buddies then this can all be done right? - Mad King brushes him off and tells him to stay out of his business - Ryan gets caught in the rain - He claws Rimmy's face oh no! his money maker! - Rimmy Tim decides enough is enough and leaves to help Xray and Vav fix this,,, fix him,,, (V) - They hear Mad King in the rain - hhhhh i dont want to deal with more monsterrrrssss - Rimmy Tim joins the team! - he explains his history with Mad King - and how he's worried - wORRIED LOOK WHAT HE'S DONE TO MOGAR - He digs out the lesser power source that was used on Mogar - THIS made THAT *points at Mogar* (K) - Mad King is bandaged and goes to sleep off the pain and *emotions* (gross) of the evening - as he drifts off instead of dreaming he finds himself seeing through Jeremy's damaged eye - He just sees xray and vav but he cant hear a word - needless to say he feel betrayed

(Finale leadup)

- they need a plan to catch MK - Xray and Vav decide to drill RT ab possible weaknesses - he doesnt have much to contribute though they havent worked together in years and he didnt have all this magic junk going on. - and all RT's seen of the magic junk is teleporting - Well have you seen his hideout? can you explain like layout or whats going on there - oh fuck yeah i guess that is intel lemme sketch it out

- Hilda is playing around with whats the difference between the gem they stole from MK and the one that RT says changed Mogar - Mayhaps after some experimentation gone wrong she figures they cant use the thing against him but need a device that'll remove that specific energy - so you know a SUCKING machine - While she's working so closely with this she starts having enderhilda dreams but like when she's awake shes like yeah thats neat but you aint caught my interest you dumb gem

- Wait RT if you and MK used to be in cahoots do you have any powers that can beat him? - I got guns we were guns for hire you know battle buddies - wot MK doesnt use guns he plays mind games - well yeah NOW he does he uh-- didnt have it all together after our last mission

(flashback)

- Battle buddies are cleaning up after a mission - they're both pretty angry like we wound up being the bad guys AGAIN how does this keep happening - RT agrees he's not a fan of dirty cash - MK comes to the conclusion if i controlled these sheeple nobody would be calling my shots and makin me do the wrong thing - come on ryan ya cant control people thats wrong - whats a little more blood on my hands if it means making things better on the whole - and MK winds up leaving the battle buddies :C

(Finale)

- Hilda comes in like hey i got your guys's sucking machine go suck off mad king or whatever - and vavs like Alright! lets make a plan lads! - then we go to MK - he can see them coming, he's gotten practice watching through RT's eyes - he gets the machine from them as theyre barely through the door - "well I was curious what this would do but what does it matter anyways" - and he's got like some full ender shadow clones to help with the fight and they all pair off ((not like an army literally just enough to pair off MK dont need an army to beat these guys)) - the real MK personally faces off RT though :) - RT "why do i get the real ryan why couldnt you face off with like vav or something" - MK "im curious if you could shoot me 'buddy'" - RT "well I doubt i'll do something but i do owe you one ;)" and he do shoot him but yeah the bullets are stopped and do nothing - MK "I do hope you brought something else if youre turning against the MAD KING you have best be prepared" - RT "what can i say" [drops gun] "I stick to my guns" [throw punch]

- but yeah after the fighting and witty dialogue clears it looks like MK do have the upper hand - RT was left bleeding out ((stabbed through with pointy fingers oooo MK got his blood literally on his hands)) - While MK is monologuing RT sneaks into the bathroom which MK pauses mid monologue when he sees a flash of RT's bloody hand reaching for the showerhead - cant believe that fuck - and RT comes out and hoses him down ((yes it reaches that far LOOK its got a long hose)) - then MK's on the ground fucking sizzling - vav's like oh right! and jumps up to get the sucking machine and they use it on MK

(epilogue)

- Jake drops RT off where they got MK locked up and shes like "do what u gotta do man" and RT's like "thanks for understanding bud" - and he gets in MK shifts to look at him - RT starts to apologize for ruining his plan but gets interrupted as MK says "you were right" - which is a SHOCKING thing to hear from that guy - and mad king is like "thank you" - and we end on "anytime buddy."

so that was my plot I havent been kidding when I said it was a long comic plan. Its been heartbreaking to have this whole thing ripped from me but I can’t tell a story about friendship w a manipulator. 

I’m not sure how long it’ll be until I actually get another thing started but I hope its soon because I was very excited to share a good long story with the xray and vav fandom and I thought this plot wouldve been like a good season worth of content

I had some draws tagged under “#its all connected” and they were all me working on this idea before I actually decided to write it out and try for a whole comic after being inspired by some close friends and the good at being bad animation collab

[relishredshoes]

Interview given to The Severus Snape and Hermione Granger Shipping Fan Group.  (sharing here Admin approved)

https://www.facebook.com/groups/199718373383293/

Hello Emma Ficready and welcome to Behind the Quill, it’s wonderful to finally have the chance to chat with you.

Many readers will know you already from works like “Chimaera” and “Sins of the father” for those that don’t,  a Trigger Warning from Emma that  their works contain graphic violence and abuse and may cause distress to some readers. 

Okay, let’s jump right in. What's the story behind your pen name? It's actually my previous name! Although very apt for a fiction writer. Though it's pronounced more like Thick - Reedy, I use it over my new name because my partner does not know I'm a fiction writer, and I  don't think they'd react well if they found out, it's something they'd struggle with. I'm a long term partial carer for them and they have some mental health issues, so I try to avoid any situations that could be a potential trigger. Plus I like having something all to myself. Which Harry Potter character do you identify with the most? I think I would say I probably relate to Severus Snape the most. I can relate to how 'damaged' he is, and how much the bullying he endured as a child, affected the adult he became. Do you have a favourite genre to read? (not in fic, just in general) I think I like to read angst the most, as to me that's more real, I don't generally read stories that are entirely fluffy all the way through. I love a happy ending, but  I can't cope with total fluff because I find it unrelatable, life isn't sunshine and daisies all the time. Do you have a favourite "classic" novel? I don't know if it's old enough to be classed as a classic, but I'd have to say 'To Kill a Mockingbird' by Harper Lee. At what age did you start writing? Very young. I had my first poem published by aged 10. How did you get into writing fanfiction? After being heartbroken at the end of Harry Potter series , I just wanted more and I had been reading fanfiction stories for years. I was constantly looking for stories, I'd get this thought in my head and it was like 'I wonder if I can find a story about this' and when I couldn't I just thought... well why don't I write it? I also find the writing very cathartic. What's the best theme you've ever come across in a fic? Is it a theme represented in your own works? I love hurt / comfort fics. I'm a sucker for it. It is something that I represent quite a lot in my fictions, because I can see both Hermione and Severus in that role in their own individual way. Hermione who is constantly a champion and a voice for others, and Severus who is there quietly and thanklessly fighting for others the entire time, I can see both of them naturally falling into those roles of 'saving' someone , without it being out of character. What fandoms are you involved in other than Harry Potter? I'm not particularly active in any other fandoms, I have always been a Buffy Fan and I love the Inheritance cycle books by Christopher Paolini , though short of reading other fanfictions I am not active in the community like I am with Harry Potter. If you could make one change to canon, what would it be? The epilogue, probably the  most common answer you get  and I know everyone is going to expect me to say because she never should've married Ron, but I can see her marrying him and subsequently divorcing him as being true to Character but I'd change the epilogue because I don't think Hermione would or should ever have settled for being a ministry worker, she deserved so much more. Do you have a favourite piece of fanon? I don't know if this counts but... Severus's Patronus changing after he survives the war. I see the doe as symbolic to the debt he felt he owed her, and I like the thought of the visual change of patronus, representing the emotional change he goes through in accepting the past and moving on now he feels that he's fulfilled his promises. Do you listen to music when you write or do you prefer quiet? Quiet! I love music, the heavier the better actually, but I have to be in the right frame of mind for it. Otherwise I can sometimes get sensory overload. I hate white noise and things like asmr, I often wear hats or headbands, or have my hood up to block out some noise. What are your favourite fanfictions of all time? How long have you got? Honestly that's not an easy question to answer, and it doesn't have one answer. But I could say that some of the stories I find myself reading over and over again are 'Sin & Vice' , 'Another Dream' and 'Lay me low'. There's no way I could write all my favourites down here, but they're the ones I re-read most often. My favourite WIP is probably ' Inkstains' Are you a plotter or a pantser? 90% Panster. I will literally have one small idea, it could  be one small interaction, one conversation or one event that pops into my head and I will end up writing a story around that one small thing. My story signs entirely stemmed from the one interaction of Severus handing Hermione the note. I knew I wanted that, and then it was by the pants from then on How does that affect your writing process? It means that I do update my stories in a regular order, so no one story is left too long without an update. I literally sit down, crack my knuckles and go 'right, I'm writing the next chapter of this story now. I write it and post it as soon as it's finished. I write from my phone too, so I apologise for any grammatical or spelling errors, auto-correct is the bane of my life at times What is your writing genre of choice? Have you read my fictions!? Interviewer: Well yeah, but I’m asking because you’ll be new to at least  some of the audience. (chuckles) Ha. Sorry. Angst, all the way. I write angst and hurt/comfort, very dark stories as I pull a lot of my ideas from the real life experiences of myself and friends I met in therapy. Writing about trauma is very cathartic for me and helps me process my own feelings about my own history. Which of your stories are you most proud of? Why? Did it unfold as you imagined it or did you find the unexpected cropped up as you wrote? What did you learn from writing it? How personal is the story to you, and do you think that made it harder or easier to write? That's a tough one, as there are elements to all of them that are important to me. None of the stories I write quite unfold like I imagined they would, they just sort of take off and I'm along for the ride. I'd be remiss not to talk about Not the Same girl at this point, as that story has probably had the biggest impact for me, the responses it's had and the people reaching out to me, both positively and negatively. I've had some outright hate over that fic, and abusive messages to the point that I almost gave in altogether and I think because of that people will expect me to say Not the Same girl is the fiction I relate to most, and while I do draw a lot from personal experience it's actually Father Mine as that resonates with me on a more personal level, that and an as yet unpublished WIP I have in the works, I think the huge dichotomy of feedback I've had for stories like Not the Same girl though, have both given me a thicker skin to the hate and encouraged me through the sheer overwhelming amount of people who’ve reached out, that find the stories cathartic in dealing with their own trauma, which is gratifying as an author to do that for people, when I myself am looking for that same release in writing it. It's great to have this mutual satisfaction and it's really rewarding. What books or authors have influenced you? How do you think that shows in your writing? I think probably going to refer back to Harper Lee and to kill a mockingbird. The whole premise of telling a story that no one wants to hear or acknowledge, the things that are widely known but rarely spoken about. In “To kill a mockingbird” it's sexism, racism and prejudice against others based on their mental health or intelligence but we still see this so much in daily life, about how much hate and horror and suffering is seen in day to day life, the trauma that so many people have suffered is widely known but swept under the rug because it's easier. No. Hell No. Fuck that. Hiding doesn't change any of it, it may be under the rug but it's still there. People rape other people, people hurt other people, people discriminate based on gender, sexual preferences, skin colour, occupation, people have suffered in life and are damaged by it. Acknowledge it. Don't  brush it under the rug, don't ignore it because it's more comfortable for most people, shine the light on it and say. "This is real. This happens. We need to acknowledge it and we need to do something about it"  And I think that's shown in my writing , I don't glorify  anything, I'm not writing snuff but I don't hide anything either. I make people see this is something that I won't gloss over. Does it make you uncomfortable? Good , it should. If people are uncomfortable , at least they are acknowledging the realness of that situation and not ignoring it. Do people in your everyday life know you write fanfiction? How true for you is the notion of "writing for yourself"? Nobody knows I write fanfiction,  I use a previous name and I very much write for my own cathartic relief. I chose not to share that I write fiction because I'm a carer for my partner, I don't know how they'd react, it could honestly go either way where they'd be absolutely fine or it would trigger them and I'd have to stop, that's the reason I keep it to myself, I'd hate to do something that would mean I'd have to stop writing, not when so many people are so emotionally invested in the stories that I write. How important is it for you to interact with your audience? How do you engage with them? Just at the point of publishing? Through social media? Reviews man. Reviews are the nectar of life, I read every single one and though I don't have time  to reply to most, trust me when I say that I treasure each one and appreciate them immensely. I have my social media which I find the easiest way to speak to people , I have my own Page on Facebook and I'm on a number of SS/HG groups. It's hugely important to me to speak to my audience and I really encourage them to get in touch with me, I'm always happy to talk about my work and people have been in touch just to talk about their feelings or emotions that have been triggered by my work and I welcome it all.  I mean, I've got people translating my stories them into French, into Russian...it's crazy, I never expected it to be so popular and I am always happy to hear from people. Though I apologise if I don't respond straight away,  I have to write on the sly and sometimes real life takes over, so I can't log in for a week or more at a time.   What is the best advice you've received about writing? First and Foremost, write for yourself. The rest is just gravy. What do you do when you hit writer's block? I move on to another story. I always have more than one WIP at any one time, If I can't find inspiration for one, I'll update another, or start a jumble of notes for others. There's always something that needs to be written down, even if it wasn't what I had planned on. Has anything in real life trickled down into your writing? Very much so. Almost all the trauma and hurt and situations that appear in my stories are either translated from my own experiences or those of people I know. Do you have any stories in the works? Can you give us a teaser? I had a number of stories in the works! When A Cure For Magic is completed, I will most likely post the next one up. I can't give too much away , but the next story is called "Catching Fire" and will be an incredibly dark story, with a lot of morally grey characters. Any words of encouragement to other writers? Just do it.  If you want to write it,. write it. First and foremost write for yourself. Don't listen to anyone who's negative ,or unsupportive. I get so many people message me saying things like 'I want to be a writer', but don't know where to start' and to which my answer is you already are a writer. Writing is 99% mental, you have the words, they're there in your head, you just haven't put them down yet. Thanks so much for giving us your time.   Any time , it's been great and I'm happy to answer questions any time , thank you for inviting me.

[anotherobsessedfangirl]

51 for Ringsy. Please

Let’s just say this started as a prompt and then somehow escalated. I basically cried while writing this, so get your tissues ready :D idk maybe it’s the upcoming wedding making me so emtional. I hope you like it. :)

German version/Deutsche Version hier

51. You make me feel alive - Intertwined

Easy sighed happily and snuggled closer to his boyfriend. He really enjoyed their time off in the woods, enjoyed being all alone and undisturbed with Ringo. Only them, cuddled up in a tent, over them the starlit sky. The only sound they heared, was the rustle of the trees in the wind and occasionally the screech of an owl in the night.

"Easy?" , Ringo softly broke the silence.

"Hmm?" , Easy answered already a bit sleepy.

"Do you sometimes think that this is fate?" , Ringos voice sounded pensive, as if he was still half lost in thought. "What?" , Easy asked. "This. Us." , Ringos answered quietly.

"You of all people believe in fate?" , Easy smirked. Ringo sheepishly cleared his throat and even if it was dark around them and they could barely see the others features, Easy could have sworn, that Ringo was blushing.

"Well, it is kind of strange, is it? In the past... we hated each other so much, but somehow we also couldn't be without each other." , Ringo responded quickly. Easy looked at him a bit surprised. "I mean did you ever notice, that somehow you were always there. You were always part of my life? No matter what happened to me, you were somehow always involved in the significant moments of my life."

"What do you mean?" , Easy asked. Even if Ringo was more and more showing his vulnerable side to him, he was still surprised by his candor, so sudden without request or trigger. It must have cost him a lot of effort to show his feelings so openly in front of him. A tingling sensation ran through Easys body, knowing, that Ringo was trusting him that much, that he let down all of his walls.

"Well, think about it... for example when I was in love for the first time, out of all people it was with..." , Ringo hesitated, he didn't know if it was the appropriate time to bring up all these old stories. But on the other hand he just felt the need to share his thoughts with Easy. "With my girlfriend at that time." , he heard Easy answere with an amused overtone. Somehow it all was pretty ironic, that they had fought over the same girl once. "Do you remember how we got at each other because of that?" , looking back all these fights about Suji appeared pretty childish to Easy.

"Hmm... I stole her from you." , Ringo noted. "And I almost beat you to death, because of it." , Easy murmured quietly. A cold shiver ran down his spine, when he thought about, that he could have lost Ringo without ever knowing how much he will mean to him one day. Automatically he held the other man a little tighter.

"Not on purpose. You couldn't know, that I unfortunatelly fell on that silly edge." , he responded, letting his hand wander up and down Easys back. He didn't want his boyfriend to feel guilty about it. For him all that was long passé and considering everything he had done in the past that accident was almost trivial in comparison.

"Still..." , Easy replied. "Well, I somehow deserved it." , Ringo shrugged, after all he had engaged in the fight as well and after all he had done... maybe he had even wanted to provoke it...

"Stop always saying that." , Easy said and gently caressed Ringos cheek with his thumb, made him look at him. "Just because you fucked up often, that doesn't mean, that you automatically deserve everything bad. That you don't deserve to be happy... or be loved." , he insisted. Ringo gulped and Easy thought to see a single tear flare up in his eyes, before Ringo captured his lips in a tender kiss, hoping that Easy would understand what he couldn't express in words right now.

Delicately Ringos fingers wandered over Easys cheek, tracing every outline of his face. Runnig over these charming dimples, that made him crazy every time Easy smiled at him. Carefully caressed these full lips, he could never get enough of. "You also were one of the first people who knew about the thing with Yannik. Knew that I like men, even though it was only a coincidence." , he said quietly.

"And I was an idiot and blackmailed you with it." , Easy sighed.

"It really freaked me out back then." , Ringo admitted.

"I am sorry..." , Easy murmured, looking back he was ashamed of his behaviour. Maybe it was, because he knew now how it felt, when you suddenly discovere, that you like men and how difficult it was to come out.

"You also said that back then." , Ringo reminded him and softly nuged his nose against Easys, to chase away, every thought of guilt his way too good hearted boyfriend migh have, with a deep kiss.

"You also were the first one to know I am gay." , Easy suddenly realized. It had never occured to him, that they both had found out about the others intimate secret, simply because of a coincidence.

"Hmm... I couldn't believe, that it was really you when I first saw you in that bar." , he grinned and rolled over, so he was now on top of Easy, only to lace there fingers behind Easys head a moment later.

"But you kept my secret, even though I lashed out at you." , Easy smiled.

"Hmm..." , Ringo placed a cheeky kiss on Easys neck. "Do you even know how cute you looked, when you were standing there looking so lost." , another kiss, "Cute and sexy." , he whispered in Easys ear. "So, you already thought I was sexy back then?" , Easy smirked and quickly turned around straddling Ringos hips, who only laughed but then got serious again. "Easy, I always found you attractive." , he said and gently took Easys head in his hands, to pull him close , "Of course I would have never admitted that." , he grinned. "But now... let's just say, that I am really glad that you are gay and that I can do this." , with these words he placed his lips on Easys and kissed him tenderly.

With a pleasent sigh Easys finger wandered under Ringos shirt, tracing his back, drawing soft circles on the bare skin. He enjoyed being so close to Ringo, physically and emotionally. Gently he kissed his forhead, when Ringo suddenly looked at him seriously, almost a bit nervous.

"And you were there when my parents died..." , he sounded husky, insecure, almost as if he barely managed to get the words out, before his voice broke. And still he had to say it, after all this had been the initial thought, that had brought up all these memories.

They had never talked about it, not like this. Of course Ringo had spoken about his parents to Easy, about how he missed them or if they would be proud of him, if they could see him now. (Easy of course stongly insisted that they would be.) But they had never mentioned the fact, that Easy had - again because of some stupid coincidence - unnoticedly been in the car too and had miraculously survived the accident.

"Ringo." , Easys voice was nothing but a silent whisper in the dark and still it was so full of different emotions, that had overrun him when he had realized what Ringo had just said. He knew, that it must not have been easy for Ringo. Even back then, when Kira had asked him about the last words of their parents and Easy just had not had the heart to tell her the truth, but Ringo had immediately seen through it. But still he had come to him later to thank him for it.

"You know, back then... I often asked myself why they had to die and... you lived. You out of all people." , Ringo admitted with a broken voice, he hoped his boyfriend wouldn't mistake that sentence.

Easy had to gulp, he had asked himself the same thing a thousand times after the accident and had eventually accepted, that he would never find an answere to this question. "I am so sorry." , he whispered with a choked voice and pulled his boyfriend in a giant hug, just held him close and hoped the other would understand without words.

"But now I know." , Ringo whispered. Easy looked at him confused. "You know, after the death of my parents... I was so angry... and at the same time I just felt empty. And then after Kira was gone... I was so... alone. And I told myself, that it didn't matter to me. That I didn't need anyone, because everyone will leave me anyway..." , he explained hesitantly.

"Ringo." , Easy sighed and softly caressed his back. The "I am here." , went unspoken.

"For everyone else I only was Richard, the man with a heart of stone, who didn't care about anyone but himself, who wasn't lovable anyway and who could never change... some still think that." , the last sentence had been so quiet, that Easy could barely hear them, but the reference to Tobias didn't escape his notice. He definitely had to talk to him, when they'll come home, it couldn't go on like this. He knew, that the tensed situation between him and his brother did affect Ringo more, than he would admit.

"So I did my thing, closed myself of from everyone, from myself and my feelings. I have more existed than lived..." , he stopped for a moment and looked at Easy , "And then we grew closer... and you turned everything upside down and still everything else was suddenly not important anymore. It drove me crazy and at the same time I felt so different, so alive..." , he took a deep breath and moved even closer to Easy. They were now so close, that their noses almost touched and they could feel the other ones breath on their skin. "With you I feel like I can finally breath again... You make me feel alive." , Ringo whispered, before he leaned in and kissed him so infinitely gently, that Easys knees got weak. Nobody had ever said something like this to him, never he had felt so loved, so he did the only thing his mind was still capable of and drew Ringo even closer, kissing him back with the same affection.

"You know. You always say, that you have never loved someone the way you love me. But me too." , Easy said, after they eventually had to breath. "You don't know how special this is to me, how special you are to me. I love you so much, Richard Beckmann." , he whispered.

Ringo looked at him. "I love you too." , he replied with a hoarse voice and this time Easy was sure, that there was a tear streaming down Ringos face. Gently he wiped it away. "Fate has a weird humor, don't you think?" , he then smiled, before he pulled him in another loving kiss.

[suicidalcatz]

DOG DAYS ARE OVER : CHAP 4

AN: Hello ! In this chapter we go on an investigation! But also we get closer to God Jake. I’m writing the 7th part at the moment, and I think the 8th one will be the end of my dream, but not of this fanfic. Let the fluff begin !

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x reader

Genre: College AU

Previous parts: Prologue ; Chap 1 ; Chap 2 ; Chap 3

Masterlist : here

Chapter four : Need a hand ?

It became obvious to both Mandy and I that I was starting to have a crush on Jake. How could I not ? For a far as we knew him, he was perfect in every way.

At first it was discreet. My new hobby of staring at him during lectures was unnoticed by both of the Kiszkas, or if Josh noticed something, he at least thought it was me waiting for his next paper ball notes and getting impatient. Regarding my class daydreamings, they weren't new so classmates and teachers didn't think much of it. Although it became very apparent something was up when I started unintentionally drawing his face several times in the workshop during portraits studies. Even though my photo reference was Kurt Cobain. It could've been easily mistaken for a very bad observation job (and it did), if it weren't for Mandy who saw me coming home after a long day with a painted 50x70cm Jake canvas under my armpit. Judging by my defeated look, she didn't address it, but she knew.

It's a few days later that we had that talk. It was getting so bad that I began mistaking people in hallways for him, smiling or even giggling to myself as I was remembering stuff he did or said, and again, drawing him.

- I can't focus on anything, I sighed defeated. I have this assignment due to next week and I can't draw any character right. I even dreamed of us doing grocery shopping.

I let my head bump loudly against the dining table as she made me a cup of tea/coffee and placed it in front of me. She knew perfectly how I felt because we all went through the same, that's why she softly pulled the chair opposite mine to sit and have a chat.

- You should talk to him more, get to know him, she encouraged. He's nice and now we sometimes hang out so it's not that weird wanting to know him better.

She was right. Sooner or later I'll had to talk to him and even tell him how I feel anyway. Not now though, it was too soon. I kind of got struck by lightning when I first laid my eyes on him and it got worse when we spoke, but it still rarely happened for people to fall instantly like that. There was no way he'd understand if I just confessed my feelings out of the blue. I should wait and see if there's any chance that my feelings are shared, because there was no way in hell I'd tell him if I wasn't sure I had a chance to date him. Speaking of which...

- Should I ask him out on a date?

As an answer, Mandy smacked my head accross the table with an empty box of biscuits.

- Are you out of your mind ? I just told you to wait ! I know you're impatient to get into his pants but think about all the times you rushed things and how many times it worked.

Raising my head to rest my chin against the plastic flowery tablecloth, I considered it, looking at her munching on chocolate biscuits, browsing a fashion magazine for inspiration. Defeated once again, I let out a sigh and shifted so my cheek was against the table.

- First of all, I don't want to get into his pants- Not yet. Second of all, you're right. I don't want to screw up this time because it'll be so awkward afterwards.

She closed her eyes and quickly nodded because she knew she was of good advice, as usual.

- You forgot something essential boo. You don't know if mister doe-eyed guitarist is single.

Fuck, that's right. Neither of them mentionned it but it's not something you just blurt out. We exchanged a look, and she grinned at me in a knowing way.

- Let's investigate.

The first thing to do was to go on his Facebook. It did seem a bit wrong searching him like that instead of asking straightforwardly, and as if karma thought the same, we found that his infos were set on private. We didn't even bother searching for instagram or twitter as nobody puts their real full names on these, so the second thing to do was to go on the field.

Despite all the departments, the school was small so buildings were close to each other and all communicated (except for the fashion workshop). I kind of knew where everything was, since you could tell just by looking at the people hanging around. And as cliché as it sounded, it was true. Illustration students were always carrying ridiculous amounts of art supplies. Entire bags of paint, books and pencil case in their backpacks, giant portfolio under an arm, A3 sketchbooks in the other, and somehow they still found a way to carry their coffee cups. Architecture, Carpenters and Furniture Design students were often seen with big mock ups and models in their arms, tools or wood. Photo and Fashion peeps were carrying the less stuff since they worked mainly on computers in the Photography dep and let all their mannequins and fabric either at home or in the Fashion workshop. It was as easy to spot dudes from the Music dep, with their guitar on their back, hanging around the Architecture building, smoking, chatting, and drinking soda or coffee.

Their building was near the park, so they were mostly seen in that area. And thank God because I would've look so stupid passing by purely « by chance » in an area where no one ever went except for the people who actually studied there. The park was great. A lot of us used to play ball, sit on the grass to drink, chat or have lunch. It was big enough that the Architecture jocks built some cabins in a corner of it to host parties. I still don't understand how the school allowed that, but anyway, the plan was simple, make a little detour to see if I could spot Jake.

It was so cold outside that students were just hurriedly passing by, quickly making their way inside where it was somewhat warm. As a result, there wasn't many people in the park at this hour of the day and I wondered if Jake was in the dorms or in class before catching a glimpse of his hair in the corner of my eye. Okay time to be discreet. I put my bag down near the trash to fake looking for something while watching him. Fuck he looked good with a scarf and head covered with a beanie. Aside from his looks, he seemed rather bummed. Passers by kept shaking him off as he tried to hand them yellow papers. Probably flyers.

- Jake, I'm taking 5 !

Some guy just beside me doing the same task called him loud and clear, and I think I just saw my life flash before my eyes when Jake turned around to reply and locked eyes with me. I instantly felt very dumb, crouched next to the trash with my hands on my bag. The mental image I had of myself at that very moment was that of a raccoon. Running away was out of the question since he was approaching my way already, one hand holding the flyers and the other in his jacket pocket.

- Hey.

- Hi, I replied without moving an inch.

- Need a hand ?

Shaking out of it, I got on my feet by myself and lied about just passing by. Karma really was a bitch, wasn't it ? Henceforth no more weird MI6 strategies for me. Avoiding staring at the blushed tip of his nose, I gazed at my hands and saw his in the process.

- Are you giving out flyers ?

- Oh yeah, for the Christmas school festival, but no one is either interested or invested in it unfortunately. It's a shame, I think it's gonna be great. I don't know what's holding them, he added while scratching his beanie, it's free and there's gonna be music and food and booze, what more could we need ?

To be fair I understood both parties. Jake was right but some students probably had exams or homework, and it was freezing and they were doing it outside. Well if we were honest it never stopped anybody from partying so maybe the event wasn't the issue.

- I saw people displaying posters, I remembered, can I see the flyers ?

Without missing a beat he handed them all to me and dear lord I almost got blind just by looking at them. That yellow and black and these awful drawings weren't doing anything good for the event. He must've saw it on my grimacing face because he sighed.

- That bad ?

- Honestly ? It looks like a Bee Movie add.

It actually made him let out a chuckle before puting a hand to his heart.

- That hurts.

That flawless smile made my cheeks burn, thank god they were already red because of the cold. His thumb brushed mine when I handed the flyers back to him, and at this moment I knew I was gonna act without thinking again, because my brain went on vacation the second his skin got in contact with mine.

- I can make you new ones, if you want.

His eyes searched for any traces of a joke on my face before realization hit him and his brows frowned lightly.

- Are you sure ? 'm not an expert but this looks like a lot of work.

As backup to his words, he shook the big bundle of paper between his fingers. Jake genuinely looked worried about me, and all the work it'd put me through. Deep down I knew there was a little voice in my head screaming that helping him only meant more sleepless nights but all the other parts of my brains ignored it when two gentle brown eyes stared at me with concern.

- It'll be fine, I assured with a smile. I'm working fast. I just have to do one design and the rest will be printed, right ? No big deal.

Hand on his hip, Jake let out what sounded like a relieved breath and cracked a smile.

- Thanks, I really appreciate it. Do you have a pen ?

Of course I did, I even got one on my coat pocket for some reason. Things I just forget to remove. He gave me the flyers for me to hold while he uncapped the black marker and took my free arm.

- I'm giving you my number, so you can text me if you're having troubles for the design, and show me some pics if you need advice.

With cold fingers, he gently grabbed my wrist and pushed back the fabric to expose my already shivering skin, and started writing numbers on my veins. It tickled, and I got goosebumps, mostly because of the cold wind but also because of his hand around my arm. The soft touch of his calloused fingers felt right on my skin, replacing the freezing feeling of his digits by a sweet wave of heat and I unconsciously held my breath to focus on the new sensation. He let the ink dry a bit before covering my arm again, raising his chin to meet my face.

- I could've write it on one of the flyers but I got a feeling you would've lost it, wouldn't ya ?

A playful smile danced on his face and once again I found myself mesmerized by him, nodding and chewing on my lip in a childlike manner. Jake tapped me on the shoulder to thank me again, saying he'll make it up to me, but I was too absorbed by the burning feeling of his skin on mine.

- I have to go, he said after sliding the marker back inside my breast pocket. My band's playing at the christmas party by the way, I hope you'll come!

[tommyplum]

- i am but dust and ashes (the world was created for me) | tommy/alfie, taboo au   for @boundinshallows’ sholomons prompt fest 2019

The two of them are finding each other again, capricious, dishonest, possessive and desperate to affect the other. 

notes: the prompt was for a taboo au, with tommy shelby in place of zilpha as the half-sibling. my changes are that alfie’s mother is jewish and not first nations, and he went to the west indies instead of africa. content warning for half-sibling incest. - maggie

Looking at it from the outside, anybody would say that it's Alfie who took advantage of close quarters and easy access. Alfie who was the corruptor, who was the viper in the branches, who was the forbidden fruit of knowledge. Looking at it from the inside, Alfie just might say the same things himself.

Tommy knows better.

"That brother of yours--"

"Half brother."

Grace's mouth pinches for just a moment and then she sweeps on with her statement, determined to have her say before Tommy switches his focus to something else. The opium makes him tangential at the best of times and Grace knows, by now, to take advantage of anything in his eyes that approaches lucidity. "Half brother," she spits, and Tommy's lips twitch as he considers tutting at her, pointing out how unladylike her vitriol is. He doesn't do it. He raises his eyebrows and slowly tilts his head from one side to the other with exaggerated interest in what she's saying and Grace looks furious but she continues.

"Your half brother may intend to keep you from what you should have rightfully inherited but we are not without means through which to strike at him, Thomas, we are not as helpless as he would have you believe, with his solicitor and his evil looks and the way that he uses those rumors about what he did in the godless West Indies as his cloak and shield." Grace crosses herself and Tommy follows the motions of it in the air with the tip of his nose, kittenlike. It amuses him to give his more pixilated impulses their head when Grace is being avaricious, or pious, which tend to go hand in hand more often than not. Religion and money share a sacrament in her soul.

"You, Grace, would have made an extremely effective Popess." 

She makes a frustrated sound, one slender hand clenching along with it. "You want him to rob us, then?" Grace demands, nostrils flaring. "Is that what you want from him, Tommy? Or is it something else."

Calling him tommy is a signifier of how angry she is; Grace stopped calling him Tommy two days before their wedding, switching without reason, explanation, or discussion to only calling him Thomas. He'd almost not known who she was fucking on their wedding night when she kept telling this Thomas person to bloody well choke her properly. 

His skin's suddenly crawling and Tommy stands abruptly, chair scraping across the flagstone floor as he's dropping the last inch of his still-lit cigarette into his cold tea. "I'll pay him a visit, then, shall I?" he says as though it's just that easy to bring all of this to a satisfying resolution, as though all you need is to be Tommy Shelby and to ask, and Grace feels the dismissal. She doesn't show it, though; she reminds Tommy of who she is by answering with a small, marble-hard smile and says,

"--kiss your half brother hello for me, Thomas. Once you've done greeting him for you."

---

Polly's the one who greets Tommy at the door, all folded arms and raised eyebrows, and Tommy holds back a sigh as he sweeps off his hat and attempts -- vainly -- to peer past her into the house where he'd grown up.

"He's not in," Polly says, making absolutely no attempt to sell the boldfaced lie. Tommy can take it or shove it, but he chooses a third option:

"I've got nowhere else to be at today, Pol, ay, come on, Polly. At least give us a cup of tea to get the chill out, before you send me packing. I'll catch my fucking death out here." 

--Tommy pushes it. 

Because if there was anything that he and Alfie had learned, growing up with Aunt Polly, it was that she had a soft spot for the audacious, the bold, for those who took chances and even if they got caught or fell flat on their faces, still put on a brave front and tossed their heads, holding them high. Tommy holds his chin up as he steps forward and Polly swings open like a door to let him inside.

Back into the house of Alfie Solomons Senior: who is now buried in a grave as shallow as a butter dish, and Tommy feels the past engulf him whole.

===

it used to be

The attic was where they'd played as children for hours and hours, making every nook and cranny of the space their own. Tommy liked to wriggle beneath the window bench and with a thick lead pencil would draw star people (the five-pointed kind, head and limbs) to represent himself and Alfie and Aunt Pol and Father on the underside of the wooden seat, with one different star (the six-pointed kind, like Alfie wears on a chain around his neck) stuck into corners to represent Alfie's mother, The Mad Jewess. That was how she was referred to and Tommy never questioned it. He never used any star, ordinary or otherwise, to stand in for his own mother; she'd died as he arrived in the world and that was the last business he'd had with her in this life.

Alfie didn't bother to find out what his brother was doing those times, content to let Tommy be strange all on his own while Alfie pondered over new schemes and plans and games to entertain them both. His games were byzantine, daring, ritualistic, and even when they'd bothered to try and include other children, none of them had ever caught on. Only Tommy could be relied upon to fully commit to Alfie's wild cult of unfettered and hedonistic play.

And (to perhaps be expected), the games had evolved as they'd grown and their attic space became even more sacrosanct, Polly banished from it entirely with promises that they wouldn't let mildew fester and rats congregate. Because when they were teenagers and Alfie lay on his back on the floor, gazing up at the underside of the window seat and the dark strokes of Tommy's constellation of family while Tommy's dark hair drew strokes in the air as he bobbed his wet mouth onto Alfie's cock, the world belonged to the two of them and nobody else. 

"There's five of you, Tommy," Alfie said, his voice dragging and drowsy even as he kicked one heel along the floor to raise a hip, angling his prick against the inside of Tommy's cheek until his younger brother firmly shoved him back down again.  "I've counted, yeah, five of you of these star-people, and there's only three of me. Why is that, love?" He reached down with one hand -- the other still tracing along the galaxy that Tommy'd illustrated -- and wrapped his thumb into strands of straight black hair until Tommy tugged off, smacking his lips, annoyed to be stopped.

"What?" he demanded loudly, but then answered anyhow since he'd heard the question. "Five of me because I was the one drawing it, wasn't I? And as the autobiographer and artist, I got to represent myself as many times as I wanted." Tommy pinched one of Alfie's thighs, drawing a laughing rumble from his remorseless victim. "Three of you because even one is too much. One is more than enough."

"Three because neither maths nor diplomacy is your strong suit." Alfie shoved out from under the windowseat, sitting up, his thick rosy cock curving damply into the crease of his thigh as Tommy kneeled back to rest against his heels. "Come here, sweetheart. Let me teach you your numbers." 

Alfie's eyes, a sharper yet more shadowy blue than Tommy's, were stream-clear in the sunshine coming in through the big round window, his smile spreading the thick dark red of his lips across his face like raspberry jam. Tommy licked his own lips and moved forward on his knees, one hand wrapping around the length of Alfie's cock as he leaned in, wanting kisses; but Alfie grabbed Tommy's face in both hands and ... spat on him.

"Ah--" Tommy gasped, but then another hot gobbet of spit hit his face. And one more, against his open, suddenly ravenous mouth, before Alfie pressed his tongue against the frothing wetness and kissed Tommy, deep and hard, sucking and biting at him before pulling panting back. Still holding Tommy's face, Alfie groaned, 

"--three times, to keep you safe from the evil eye, remember that, Tommy.The magical properties of spittle and doing something three times over, which you already know somewhere in that flashing minnow brain of yours, because you drew me three times over, eh? Now --" Alfie let go and sprawled back onto the bare wooden floor, propped on his elbows as he parted his thighs, "--be a good boy, go on, and fuck me."

Alfie was in a mood to push that day, because he growled and groaned and shouted as Tommy climbed onto him and drove his cock into his half brother's arse over and over, whipcord muscles shaking with exertion and youthful arousal, desperate to come and at the same time wanting to hold out, draw it out for Alfie's sake. 

(And, oh, and his own; because Alfie was a sight to stir the senses when he was being fucked and filled, his succulent fat lips dark and swollen as he moaned, eyelashes spiked damp with sweat and salt, the column of his throat thick and strained, and no lover who Tommy Shelby was ever destined to have in his grown life would compare quite favourably to that.)

At the dinner table that night Polly's dark gaze travelled between them while she held her cup of tea in both hands, and said with waxen-heavy portentousness to Alfie, "--We've all noticed, Alfie, just how well you take care of your little brother. If you're not careful, others will start to remark on it. Hmmm?"

She didn't look at Tommy, only at Solomons Junior, and Alfie's throat worked soundlessly for a moment before he said, "Let them remark on whatever it is they think they know. I guarantee, Pol," Alfie cut with renewed vigor into his chop, smearing it lavishly with enough horseradish to make Tommy cough at the thought, "that the truth is somewhere far beyond their comprehension."

The braggadocio of this comment made Polly smile along the edge of her cup. But her expression went fixed, static, when Tommy tossed the last crust of his bread down on his plate and stood, saying with a casual coldness, "I'm the one takes care of him, only I never get any credit because I'm a second son. And it's thankless work. Let them mention that, when they talk." 

Alfie's silverware clinked down against his plate in Tommy's wake, and Polly's cup provided counter-harmony tinking down against her saucer, and Tommy smiled, flatly, as he mounted the stairs to his room and left them behind. He couldn't say why it felt so good to leave Alfie stranded on the shoals of ignominy alone, or why he kept right on screwing Alfie, opening his own legs for Alfie, only to then repudiate him afterwards and refuse to acknowledge their fevered sampling of each others' bodies. But Tommy did. He crashed into Alfie to begin with and then once it was over and their blood was cooling he retreated further every time, until one day -- it was Alfie who retreated.

All the way across the fathomless oceans to the other side of the world.

===

"There's your tea," Polly says, pouring the cup full to the brim where it sits in its saucer on the kitchen table. If she thinks that's going to wrongfoot Tommy Shelby, then she's assumed too much; he's not that far different from the strange child he'd been, especially when he has some of the poppy in his blood to ease the way and null social convention that might keep his instincts in check. 

He leans forward with his hat still in his hands and, stare fixed on Pol as hers is stuck on him, noisily slurps scalding-hot tea from the cup until it's not lapping at the rim anymore. And then Tommy points at the cone of sugar on the counter behind Pol and says, "Sugar, please, Aunt Pol, and milk if you've got it."

She goes still and her mouth purses, eyes flashing in indignation. "If we've got it! Yes, even here at the other end of the city and all society from their Highnesses Tommy and Grace Shelby, we do have milk in, now and again." 

"Only not at the moment."

Both of them turn their heads towards the stairs as Alfie comes down them, his head leaned back so Tommy can see the grey of his eyes, almost rolling beneath the broad brim of Alfie's black hat. He looks … Tommy can't say he looks good. He looks ploughed through and harrowed, thick bottom lip carrying the entire freight of all of Alfie's display of emotion, a long scar drawn over his left eye like a permanent tearstain. The thought is laughable. This man descending the stairs in a rolling heavy gait is a stranger to weeping, Tommy can tell that much.

"We've not got milk in, at the moment," Alfie repeats, walking over to stand at Tommy's shoulder -- or against Tommy's shoulder, is more it, and the knuckles of one hand drag a shiver down Tommy's spine. If Tommy just turned his head the right way, he'd be able to slant his mouth over the crest of Alfie's hip, through his camphor-smelling shirt. "Not for you, Tommy. Nor sugar, neither. You get enough of those things at home, don't you?"

"After your visits to the sugar cane fields of Barbados and Trinidad," Tommy says, turning his face up so he doesn't need to think about his tongue against the ridge of Alfie's hip, "I'd think that you'd be absolutely running with the stuff, Alfie. Hasn't it made you any sweeter?"

Polly gets up with her cigarette trembling between her fingers and leaves the room without another word, although Tommy can hear doors opening and shutting, retreating further and further into the house. Alfie hasn't moved, hasn't barely breathed, hasn't taken his seawater stare from Tommy.

"If you came here for … cream," Alfie says, rolling the word around his mouth before lacquering it further, "...and for sugar," he pauses to let weight and innuendo settle, toffeelike, "then I can offer them to you only if you ask, Tommy. Nicely." 

Tommy hrrrms in his throat and then opens his mouth, and Alfie puts his thumb against Tommy's lips to stop him. "On your knees, pet," Alfie says, "just like you used to."

"I'm a married man, Alfie," Tommy tries, just so he can say that he did. And perhaps so he can see the look of contempt snarl across Alfie's face briefly as he takes his hand back, there and gone, coiling into the hinge of one jaw where Tommy stares at that tension in fascination as he continues, "I've come to talk about this proper. Civilized."

"I lost all my civility somewhere in the kala pani," Alfie says, and if Tommy doesn't understand the unfamiliar words he does understand the deep ocean depths of Alfie's eyes, the haunting that floats to the surface to bob there, circling his irises. "Along with a great deal more. You don't want to know, Tommy. How dark and black it is down there. Enough to make all the stars you've ever seen disappear, forever."

"Alfie," Tommy says, and reaches up before he can help himself, to put one fingertip at the very corner of Alfie's lower lip and press, pull, disfigure. "What happened to you out there on the ocean? In those foreign lands? Why've you come back like this?"

Alfie's eyes map Tommy's face as Tommy says, very very quietly: "...why did you come back at all?"

Everything goes dead still between, around them, and Alfie says, "That, dear brother, is a very strange way indeed to entreat me for the inheritance you believe you are owed." He steps back. "It was Grace, yeah, who bade you come? Who spun you tales of terrible Alfie, wicked Alfie, sailing back from the gold-washed shores of tropical islands with riches lining his pockets and an eye to cheat you of what our father left to support you in this life, which is nothing, Tommy. He left you nothing. And my riches are not of the sort your Grace would welcome."

Alfie shoves his hands into his pockets and plucks at them like he's tearing feathers from a dead fowl, turning them inside out one after the other, and Tommy watches with his lip curling in a shudder as salt pours out of every one. Alfie used to carefully heap little piles of salt into the corners of rooms, warning Tommy not to disturb them, so that they could ward off demons and evil spirits. When Alfie had left on the tall ship that took him to his damned equatorial destination, Tommy had discovered some of those piles still remaining in secret corners where Polly hadn't found and swept them gone. He'd sprinkled bits of that salt into his food for three and a half months before it had run out. Some of the salt falling out of Alfie's waistcoat pocket showers along the table and into Tommy's tea and his mouth waters, instantly.

He stands up and gathers the folds of his long black coat around him, swallowing his saliva and the taste of acrid dust, nostrils pink-rimmed and flaring rabbitlike. "We're not without means through which to strike at you," he says, the parroting of Grace's words lending his voice a sing-song quality that causes Alfie's lips to curl in derision. He knows those aren't Tommy's words. He knows the inside of Tommy's mouth like nobody else ever has.

"Then strike, Thomas," Alfie murmurs, the taunt sensual and subterranean, and his fingers move much faster to unbutton the only two that are holding his waistcoat closed, to spread open the shirt below to expose his chest, where Tommy can almost see the thumping of his heart. Before he knows what he's doing Tommy reaches forward and gathers the cambric in his hands, bunching it, ripping it, leaving it hanging like old lace from Alfie's heavy shoulders.

"The next time I see you," Tommy says as he quicksteps away, circumnavigating Alfie's unmoving figure, "I'll be collecting my inheritance. All of what's owed me. You know what that is."

The shirt slips further down Alfie's shoulders and Tommy catches a glimpse of a strange scarred mark on his muscled back: a hand, fingers together, the thumb and pinkie curled stylistically. Blue ink casting it ghostly, frozen.

"I will see you before that," Alfie says. Ghostly. Frozen. Tommy tastes salt riming the sides of his tongue as he shuts the door.

---

The attic room is where Alfie's lived since his return, and Pol ventures up when she damn well feels like, now. It scarcely matters. If Alfie wants sex he gets it by his own hand, and Polly has a seventh sense for that sort of depravity (her sixth having been entirely used up and burned down by what her two charges had gotten up to in all their growing years, Alfie knows).

Alfie curls his freezing-cold toes as he leans closer to the fire, baring his charcoal-stained teeth at the flames as they leap blue-white, eating the treats of camphor that he flings into them. Half naked, he feels the tightness of cobalt jab molassie paint dried on his skin and lets a mouthful of thick sweet wine flood his mouth before spitting it out in a spray. 

His mother's face looms at the back of the fire, her posy lips reddened with the syrupy wine, her eyebrows dark wings over searching grey eyes. The blue in Alfie's eyes, the short wedged nose, the muscled set of his shoulders and hips, those come from the long lost Solomons Senior; far more than Alfie ever wanted to inherit from his father, and worth far less than what he'd rightfully expected. 

The fire spits back at him and Alfie leans into the sparks, letting them kiss searing against his skin. "I think I have your heart as well, Mother," he tells the flames and her face, her searching eyes that take him in and weigh him and find him wanting. "I have your heart but no soul to speak of, for He had none to give me, not before Bedlam and not after it."

Cackling, the fire dances against the back of the hearth and Alfie picks up his bowl and cradles it in both hands, turning it as his lips murmur aloud the Aramaic script that circles its wide mouth. The names of angels that he can only believe in if he thinks of them as magic rather than faith, the taste of clay and shockwaves of horror, an old old craft that his mother interred to his flesh before she died. "Be you bound, sealed," Alfie mumbles, "countersealed, yes, exorcised, hobbled, silenced…." 

His voice is an ugly croak like this, and Alfie can swear he feels hundreds of shedim climbing into his mouth past teeth and tongue to rasp at the insides of his throat to claw their way down through his entrails to make their homes there, searing little demons all seething and scrambling over each other, yes, scrambling and rattling their chains, crying out in foreign tongues, waiting in his belly to be vomited onto unfamiliar shores.

"I left you," Alfie says, doubling over so far that his forehead hovers only a few inches above the floor, heat of the fire making rings at the top of his scalp. "In Port-of-Spain, I left you, and I drank your chenopodium and I swallowed your semen and I wore your jumbie beads and your red thread around my throat and around my wrists, and that is where you belong, all you monsters and mazikim, that is where I left you. Buried below the tamarind trees with blue glass to keep you from rising again. You don't belong here."

His voice has ascended to a roar on the last sentence, reverberating through the attic rafters and back down and then the sound all sucks into the fireplace, rippling through the flames and turning them white-blue as the breath catches in Alfie's chest; the moment stretches, pulling out like ropes and ropes of intestine never-ending and gory and miasmic, and then oxygen hits him in the lungs and he wheezes, lips pale.

The fire is only a fire.

It is England.

He is himself. Motherless, fatherless, beset in every cell of his body by the gibbering of demons, but himself.

Alfie rubs his hand over his mouth and chin a few times, letting his beard and moustache prickle his palm. He makes sure his bowl is set aside safely, and then he begins a different ritual, separate from the one to quieten shedim. This one is even more personal than that.

---

The strokes of Tommy's pen are firm and sure as he writes his letter, at his desk, the cold sunlight filtering through the air against his paper. Their whole house is cold and everything that enters it turns chilled. Grace has decorated it in grey and blue-grey and lavender-grey and Tommy, bird bones to begin with, feels the grey in each one of them. The coals heaped in the indigo-grey tiled fireplace must still be giving off heat, though, because Tommy feels it against his hip. And slowly creeping up his side, and down along his leg, and then, he clenches his fingers on his pen because that heat is circling around his cock like a mouth.

"Alfie," Tommy groans. 

"Tommy," Alfie mutters.

He curls both hands into loose fists, stacked on each other, and rotates them like he's pulling on a rope or something else, something better, dipping his head to waggle his tongue into the tight circle of his fist. Licking and lapping, pushing and widening, tasting the heated skin, fucking his hand with his tongue. 

Tommy falls forward against his desk half-risen out of his chair, hands splayed out on the wood with his fingers in stiff claws, eyes wide and darting as if Alfie's form will materialize if he can only focus his vision properly. And he moans, sluttish protest, as his hips push closer to the edge of the desk and he spreads himself out, face pressed against the varnish as his legs spread wider. Tommy would pray, but he doesn't believe in Grace's God and has none of his own to petition. 

Finished with his work, Alfie squeezes his fists tight and then opens his arms, twisting them as he holds them out to his sides, muscles swelling and strained as he leans back, and back, hips canting forward--

--Tommy gives a hoarse yowling cry, bucking against the desk as he feels himself filled, pinned down, unable to do anything but take it. Hard and precise strikes that hit deep inside him, his own cock thick and needy; the whole desk rattles from the phantom force of it and the inkwell topples over, streaming down, the peacock blue that Tommy favours (so frivolous! So strange, for a man, Grace had bemoaned) streaking into the crow-black of his hair and painting along the side of his face, and

and Alfie grunts as the small of his back screams from the pressure of his posture on his knees on the floor, bent so far back that all he can see is the starlings in the rafters of his attic, heat corseting his hips as his prick slaps against his belly and he bites his lip, tasting blood as he baptizes himself in come and feels the 

heat and wetness as Tommy clenches down and shouts, open mouth dragging over blotting paper as it soaks up the damp, as his cock gives up its milk as well and Tommy can see that the coals in the fireplace are dead cold and dark, and he laughs once, sharply, before screwing his lips shut tight and doing the same with his eyes as he shudders out his completion. The heat retreats. The sunlight keeps touching him. It's still cold.

---

The next morning a letter arrives at the Shelby house from Alfie, borne to the breakfast table on a silver platter by the servant that Grace insists they maintain. Grace had declined to come down to breakfast.

"I can't look at you," she'd said to Tommy the night before. "All I see is damnation. And you courting it with open arms."

Tommy puts down his egg-spoon and the morning newspaper and opens the letter. It reads in its entirety:

 cream and sugar.

He throws it uncrumpled into the cold fireplace and carries on with his egg, dripping molten-soft yolk down the ball of his thumb as he eats. The side of Tommy's face is traced with the curled blue inkstain; stylized, frozen, ghostly.  He sprinkles salt like stars into the ocean black of his tea.

/end