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peachsayshi · 10 hours

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Hi, I really like ur page and i was wondering if i could request a beach day with dad gojo?? I think this would be wholesome😭💕

₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥minors / ageless / blank blogs dni

⥽ notes: some tooth rotting fluff for you nonnie! cw children; reader and gojo are parents of two; alternate au where things are only happy; satoru is a retired sorcerer; I mention that satoru's hair is a bit long but that's because I actually hc him growing it out slightly after retiring - requests for dad gojo prompts are still open.

love consumes your daily life. it comes in the form of good morning kisses, in messy rooms, in vibrant chatter that never seems to end, in tears, in a stack of dirty dishes, in folding clothes for a family of four. it manifests itself in various ways - and no matter where the pendulum swings between how good or bad it can feel, you go to sleep every night eternally grateful.

today's sky is clear and vibrant, saturated in a blue that mirrors the expanding horizon. waves crash along the shore, the subtle breeze whipping back and forth.

a morning at the beach was just what you needed. a nice break away from the demands of your day to day life. the heat teasingly kisses your exposed skin, despite you being hidden under the giant umbrella.

you inhale with gratitude, breathing the salt in the air.

by your side is your daughter, whose now a year and half. her white hair is pulled into two pigtails, her cheeks a rosy pink. she's sitting upright, her big eyes focusing on her toy tools as she shovels the grains of sand by your side.

you mindlessly lean forward to kiss the top of her head, pushing your sunglasses away from your face to glance toward the horizon.

your heart flutters at the sight of your husband whose tall, muscular body stands firm like a marble statue in the distance. your son is on his shoulders, his hands lightly gripping his father's hair, as satoru trails a path back and forth along the sea bed.

no one would be able to tell that your son is actually quite tall for his age, not when he looks so small next to his father.

your daughter noises out "dada" as she follows your gaze, pointing her shovel towards them and flicking tiny granulates of sand up ahead.

once upon a time your life wasn't quite like this, so you absorb the seconds like a sponge.

you spend some time building sand castles with your daughter, who rejects the concept of dimensional shapes and prefers the art of rustic mounds instead. you're both so engrossed in your little activity, that you barely hear satoru and your son walk towards you.

"mama!" your son squeals, his hands clutched tight into two fists as he nearly kicks the mound that you've both been carefully crafting together.

"easy, my love!" you giggle, glancing up at him with affection.

he looks so much like satoru, you think. his eyes may be yours, but satoru's genes fought hard for that claim with a streak of blue piercing through his left iris. he has the same cute little nose, and a massive grin that brightens up his whole face.

the only stark difference is with his hair color, which was simply a lighter shade of yours.

"m'sorry!" he politely replies, adjusting his position as you circle one arm around him. "I gotta show you!" he opens both fists, where he holds two beautiful shells. "one's for you, mama. and the other is for akemi!"

"oh, these are beautiful, jun!" you coo, taking each shell from his hand. you already know exactly where you'll keep them, one sitting on your vanity and the other you'll attach onto the decorative mobile in akemi's room.

you place both shells carefully into the beach bag and pick up jun's thermos. he plops down right beside you and happily takes it from your hand.

meanwhile, satoru finds his place on the towel, his long arms scooping up akemi into the contours of chest.

you run your fingers through jun's wet hair, pushing it away from his face as you watch him drink water. akemi babbles by your side while satoru continues whispering the sweetest words into her ear.

"how's my pretty girl? you having fun making sand castles with mama?" he coos, rubbing the tip of his red rose against hers. their blushed faces mirroring one another.

akemi giggles and kisses her father in return.

"we should be heading back soon," you state, not wanting to be the bearer of bad news but knowing full well that the afternoon heat will be far too much for young daughter.

satoru and jun both turn to look at you, tiny pouts forming on their mouths as their shoulders slump.

"do we have'ta, mama?" jun mumbles.

"yes, but how about we get some ice cream first before we go?"

"oh! I could do with some ice cream!" satoru replies, too busy making a silly face at akemi to pull another laugh out of her.

jun moves closer to them, practically crawling on his father's lap as he raises the thermos victoriously like he won an epic battle.

"I want ice cream too!"

satoru gathers him in his arms as well, placing him on his lap to cradle his two babies together.

another burst of love runs through you, one that settles deep within your soul.

you allow father, son and daughter to bond while you carefully pack up all your things. by the time satoru puts them down, you're almost finished.

you stand up to stretch your legs, your husband following your footsteps and slipping his arms around your waist to spin you in his direction while jun and akemi take a second to destroy the sand castle that you were building earlier.

"hey, hot stuff," he teases under his breath, greeting you like it's the first time he's seen you all day. "missed you out in the water"

"nu-uh, mister," you playfully scold, "your smooth talking isn't going to excuse you from the near heart attack you gave me when you dunked jun in earlier..."

satoru arches forward to kiss your cheek, "lighten up, mama. you know our babies are in perfectly safe hands with me,"

you shake your head, a musing smile making your cheeks feel tight. you bring one hand up to twirl a strand of satoru's hair, while the pads of your other fingers lightly grazes over the blades of his undercut.

you scratch the back of his head lovingly, "I know they are"

two arms wrap around your leg, and you look down to find jun resting his chin on your thigh while looking up at you with curiosity. "mama, can we get the ice cream now?"

you shift your gaze to satoru, the tiny moment of privacy fleeting as love makes it's presence known once again.

"you guys head over to the shop, while I pack up the stuff. I'll meet you there."

with that, you carry akemi in your arms while you hold jun's hand. the three of you stroll away from your space of sanctuary towards the ice cream shop.

you greet the owner, his familiar face clocking your own. the last time you saw him was on your honeymoon with satoru. the man's face beams with pride as he looks at your children, witnessing how much has bloomed around you since.

you order everyone's ice cream, and he graciously offered akemi's tiny scoop free of charge.

you're seated at the booth, watching jun devour his chocolate soft serve while akemi's lips turn orange nibbling at her peach sorbet. satoru finally walks in, clad in a unbuttoned short sleeve shirt that he wears over his swim trunks. he runs his fingers through his hair, pushing the longer layers back and away from his face to reveal his handsome features.

"papa, hurry up! you're ice cream will melt!" jun calls out, and you kindly shush him as to not disturb the other customers.

thankfully, it was a young couple and two older women who simply laugh at the interaction.

satoru slips into the booth right next you, his arm automatically curling around your waist while his free hand lifts the cone that you've been holding for him.

he dramatically licks around the swirl of vanilla, making jun and akemi laugh with his animated reaction.

you both find one another then, the root of your love at the forefront.

suddenly, everything else disappears, and it's just the four of you suspended in time. satoru leans down to steal a kiss, his sugary lips slightly cold, and you return the gesture tenderly.

"ewwwwww" jun interrupts, scrunching his nose in disgust.

the spark fizzles, but that's alright. you know full well that you and your husband have the night to make up for it.

satoru looks at his son with cheeky astonishment. "eww?! really, jun? how do you think you got here in the first place?"

you playfully slap your husband's chest, while your son shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly with his innocence brushing over satoru's comment.

"dunno, ask mama"

satoru's jaw goes slack, a disapproving expression overcoming him. "ask mama? as if your papa had nothing to do with it, huh?"

"well, I came from her tummy not yours" your son answers quite matter of factly, giving your husband a sassy look as if he knows better.

you bring your fingers to your mouth to stop yourself from laughing at his wild comment and rest your cheek against satoru's shoulders, listening to father and son banter while the exhaustion from the day trickles in slowly.

you close your eyes for only a moment when the silence settles in.

satoru leans you both back against the plush surface of the sofa.

"tired, angel?"

"mhmm," you agree, "but today was perfect."

he smiles, his cerulean eyes shifting to jun and akemi finishing up their treats.

you're not the only one who finds themselves thankful.

"yeah," he murmurs, squeezing your waist in confirmation, "yeah, it really was."

note: I am not accepting any new requests. if you're interested in seeing what kind of requests I am accepting - please check the "rules" and "upcoming" links on my pinned.

#gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #gojo fluff #Satoru Gojo x reader #Satoru Gojo x y/n #Satoru Gojo x you #Satoru Gojo fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk fluff #gojo satoru #Satoru Gojo

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miniseokminnies · 14 hours

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rivers and roads —- c.hs

˚｡ pairing: chwe hansol x afab!reader ˚｡ genre: friends to lovers, idiots to lovers ˚｡ wc: 5.6k ˚｡ warnings: 18+ MDNI, drug mention (weed), alcohol mention, one uncomfortable situation with a stranger who is a man, lying to hotel staff, spit kink, oral [m. receiving], multiple orgasms, praise kink, slight dacryphilia, insecurity, anxiety, slight angst with a happy ending ˚｡ synopsis: having just graduated college and having some time before the real world starts two best friends decide to take a road trip that might change their friendship forever. ˚｡ playlist: rivers and roads

mood board by: @myhimbomingi

You smooth your hands over the rough polyester of your ugly blue graduation gown. Staring ahead and starting to fidget in line to walk across the stage you felt a hand slip into yours and give a supportive squeeze. Looking up your eyes met the deep brown of your best friend, Hansol’s.

“Nervous?” he asked softly, beginning to rub circles on the back of your hand with his thumb. Your eyes drifted back to the stage and you nodded,

“What if I trip?” you muttered as the two of you moved forward in the line, the monotonous announcer continuing to read through the names of your graduating classmates. Hansol chuckled, knowing that your concern is valid, but not anything you needed to worry about. Hansol and yourself have been friends since college orientation the summer before your freshman year. The two of you were in the same group and immediately clicked. Slowly the two of you expanded your group, mostly consisting of the two of you and some guys that lived on Hansol’s dorm floor freshman year.

“Chwe Hansol” the announcer boomed over the microphone. He smiled down at you and you felt his hand slip out of yours.

***

“So does anyone have any big plans before we join the workforce?” your friend Seokmin smiled at your group’s last weekly Saturday lunch before you all went your separate ways.

“Y/N and I are going on a road trip” Hansol said nonchalantly without looking up from his menu. Joshua and Jeonghan exchanged a quick glance,

“Oh? Where to?” the latter asked.

“Dunno” you shrugged, “just taking two weeks to see where we end up” Jeonghan nodded, glancing at Joshua again.

“Sounds boring” Junhui muttered, engrossed in his phone, “ow!” he yelped as Minghao shoved his elbow into his ribs.

***

Clutching onto the straps of your duffle bag you began to bounce on the balls of your feet. You saw Hansol’s red pick up truck pull into the parking lot of your apartment complex and you slung your backpack over your left shoulder and your duffle over your right and bounded out the door. Vernon laughed as he spotted you, so clearly excited. He wordlessly took your duffle and placed it in the back of the cab behind the passenger’s seat. You set your backpack on the floor of the passenger's seat and climbed into the truck.

“Ready?” Hansol asked as he got behind the wheel. You smiled widely at him and nodded. He gave you a single nod and started the truck.

Driving with Hansol was always something you enjoyed, the two of you spent a lot of time during college just driving around. He always had new music to play for you. He was always a comfort for you, and comfortable silence, apart from the music from the speakers, took over the drive quickly.

After a few hours of driving and intermittent conversation, you felt your eyelids getting heavy. You shifted in your seat, trying to get more comfortable.

“Close your eyes, nap” Hansol said softly without looking away from the road.

“Mmm, keeping you company” you mumbled, closing your eyes and leaning your cheek on your hand.

“I’m fine, Y/N” he chuckled. You nodded, slipping into sleep quickly. Hansol looked over at your sleeping form, and feeling an odd sensation in his chest, looked back to the road.

You felt a hand on your shoulder, shaking you awake, “Y/N” you heard Hansol, your eyes fluttered open, seeing him close to you.

“Hm?” you hummed, rubbing your eye and looking up at him.

“I found a motel, they have a room for us” he told you. You nodded and picked up your backpack from the floor. Hansol already had your duffle over his shoulder and his backpack on. Once you were settled he began leading you toward the room he rented.

“Where are we?” You called to Hansol from the bathroom and squeezed some of your cleanser into your hand.

“About six hours south of your apartment,” your friend appeared in the doorway to the bathroom, now in his pajamas, and leaned against the doorframe, “I don’t know the name of the town, or what’s here”

Once the two of you were ready for bed you settled in one of the two beds in the room.

“Good night, ‘Sol” you yawned. Hansol hummed in response and shut off the light.

***

You were up before Hansol the next morning. Letting him sleep you slipped into the shower, what felt comfortable in the car the previous day was now responsible for some stiffness. You let the warm water run over your body, getting lost in the feeling. You’re not sure how long you stood there enjoying the warmth loosening your tight muscles before you heard the bathroom door swing open.

“Y/N?” you heard the sleepy voice of Hansol call out, “I’m…I just need to piss”

“Go ahead,” you replied, trying to be less awkward than your friend and beginning the process of washing your hair.

“Breakfast?” you asked, sitting on the edge of Hansol’s bed after your shower. Looking up from his phone he nodded eagerly at you,

“Please, I’m starving.”

***

Hansol and yourself didn’t stay in that town long after the meal, it was small and there wasn’t much to see beyond the amazing local breakfast cafe and your motel. The two of you have been on the road for a few hours now.

“I love this song,” Hansol mumbled, a laugh escaped your lips, “What? I do!” he scoffed at your reaction,

“I know, Hansol,” you reach across the center console to take the partially smoked joint from behind his ear, “I was the one who played you this song, remember?” He watched you from the corner of his eye place his joint between your lips and bring his zippo to the end, lighting it up.

Hansol does remember hearing this song for the first time, the crackle of your old record player in your college apartment. You looked similar to how you do now, hair tied up haphazardly, baseball cap from the university bookstore you bought that orientation day on your head. Admittedly, the hat is much more worn now. You took your single puff of his joint before passing it to him to finish off that day too.

This may be his favorite you he ever gets to see. A single blow of smoke escaping your lips. You only ever want the one, and Hansol only ever smokes his half of the joint when you start it for him. Currently, he was trying to calm his racing heart, and trying to distract himself from the fact that the joint was between your lips a few moments ago.

“Of course I do,” he took the joint between his fingers, drumming the steering wheel, “Feels different now…” he trailed off listening to the words, a year from now, we'll all be gone, all our friends will move away. Absentmindedly, he thought about how different things might be after he drops you off at your apartment in two weeks.

You watched as he blew smoke toward the window, he got this far away look in his eyes, you knew he was thinking. You knew better than to ask, Hansol was a man of few words, and if he wanted to talk about it, he would. Eyeing him you turned up the volume on the radio, you saw the corner of his mouth quirk up ever so slightly, you knew he appreciated the gesture, one of not making him talk before he was ready.

The drive droned on like this for the majority of the day, eventually the smoke stopped curling towards the window as Hansol had smoked it all away, he would need to roll more before bed. Eventually, you saw Hansol blinking furiously, trying to stay awake.

“‘Sol” you reached out to touch his arm, “Maybe we should take a break” he jumped slightly at your touch, so focused on the road.

“Where…” he chuckled, once he had regained his calm demeanor, “we’re in the middle of nowhere” you only shrugged in response,

“Pull over, it doesn’t matter” and soon the impenetrable line of trees on the side of the road gave way to an open field. Hansol pulled his truck off the road matting down the grass in its wake, he drove close to the tree line, worried about getting in trouble if someone saw the car from the road. Once the truck was safely in park you watched Hansol reach to the back of the cab and tugged a few blankets toward you two. Wordlessly he opened his door and moved toward the bed of the truck.

Turning around you watched him spread the blankets in the bed through the back window. He poked his tongue through his teeth in concentration, when he was finished he hopped off the bed and moved toward your side of the truck. You scrambled to look nonchalant, and as if you totally were not watching him, a ghost of a smile playing at your lips.

“C’mon then” he opened up your door. Following him out to the back he helped you up. Laying on your back you felt the plush of the blankets and watched Hansol as he settled down next to you. Once he was comfortable you turned your eyes to the sky and covered your eyes with your forearm. The hand nearest to Hansol was left in its place, unbeknownst to you, his pinky inched closer, trying to build the confidence to take the plunge.

You woke up to a cool drop of water plopping directly onto your forehead. When did you fall asleep? Barely having the time to wonder before the skies open up and begin to drench Hansol and yourself.

“Hansol!” you sat up and shook his shoulders, “Hansol!” his eyes fluttered open slowly, somehow for a moment you forgot the rain was beating down on you as you watched his eyes soften from the confusion they held when he first woke. The softness he usually works so hard to shield you from was on full display, you wanted to stay in this fleeting moment forever, but you realized just as quickly as the gaze softened it turned panicked.

“Oh my God!” he sat up, almost bumping his head on your nose, “it’s pouring” he stated almost too simply. The two of you worked to heave the now soaking blankets out of the bed of the truck and into the back of the cab.

Hansol slams his door shut and throws his head back against the rest behind him. He pushes a hand through his now sopping wet hair. Turning to look toward him you catch his eyes taking in his appearance. After a few seconds of holding eye contact the two of you burst into a fit of laughter.

The drooping fan blades cut through the stale hot air on the ceiling of the motel about thirty miles from where you got caught in the storm. You were sprawled out on the bed looking up at the fan, finally feeling warm now that you were able to change out of your wet clothes.

Hansol was still down in the lobby, trying to talk the motel manager into letting him use their large driers for the blankets. Finally, you heard the door open and the squish of socks inside wet shoes approach you.

“One bed?” Hansol asked. You propped yourself up on your elbows, looking him up and down, stifling another bout of laughter at his state of disheveledness.

“That’s kind of what happens when you take a trip without a plan” you pointed out, letting yourself smile so he knew you were joking. Hansol rolled his eyes, a lazy smile tugging at his lips.

“I guess you’re right” the softness in his eyes returns for a moment, before he remembered he was dripping on the floor, “I’m gonna change…” you flopped back on the bed and resumed the exhilarating activity of watching the blades of the fan lazily cutting the air.

The bathroom door clicked closed and you heard Hansol’s muffled sigh. Imagining him hanging his wet clothes next to yours over the bar of the shower you tried to ignore the heat rising in your cheeks.

“I’ll sleep on the floor” Hansol stated, startling you, you were too deep in thought to notice him. You watched as he busied himself with taking out his phone charger.

“No” you sat up again, “there’s no need to do that, it’s not like we didn’t fall asleep next to each other earlier” you watched him turn to you, greedily taking in his form, his baggy sweats and his t-shirt, “plus this floor is more than likely disgusting”

“Good point” he smiled at you, moving toward what he decided is his side of the bed, the side closest to the door. The two of you settle under the covers and Hansol clicks off the lamp on his side, “Goodnight Y/N” he mutters

“Goodnight ‘Sol” your back was turned to him, but your eyes were stuck open, feeling the adrenaline of an invisible line being crossed.

***

“Do you think everyone in this town is this stupid?” Hansol asked incredulously as the car in front of you break checked him.

“Probably,” you kicked your feet up on his dashboard, “I bet they teach them all to do this at driver’s ed, to cut people off when they’re from out of town” Hansol laughed at your made up story,

“We need to find a city I think” he muttered, “I’m a little tired of motels and small towns” Nodding in agreement you reached for the joint behind his ear, freshly rolled before you left this morning, and tried to not think about the way that his tongue darts out to wet his lips. Hansol slowed at the red light and you felt his heavy gaze as you lit the joint. You had to all but hold yourself down so you didn’t squirm under the sudden attention, inhaling and blowing the smoke toward the window. Meeting his eyes you placed the joint between his lips as the light turned green.

***

“We have no rooms that will accommodate you” the snobby hotel clerk sneers at you from behind the desk. The two of you had found a city six hours west of where you started this morning, and the hotel you decided to try evidently had standards, ones that your leggings and Hansol’s basketball shorts didn’t meet. You opened your mouth to argue, but Hansol beat you to it,

“Look,” he started, surprising you, “it’s our honeymoon,” you had to stop yourself from staring at him like he had grown a second head, “the hotel we had reserved, they double booked us, it doesn’t need to be your best, just a room.” The clerk sighed and began typing furiously clicking through his computer, you took the opportunity to glance at Hansol, questions evident on your face. He merely shrugged with a lopsided smirk painting his face.

“We had a last minute cancellation…” the clerk muttered reluctantly, once again taking in the state of your apparel, “Names please?”

“Vernon and, “ he looked at you expectantly, after no less than a solid 15 seconds of panic you mustered up,

“Kate”

“Vernon and Kate Chwe” Hansol affirmed.

“Well congratulations Mr. and Mrs. Chwe” the man behind the desk offered as he held out a pair of room keys and you had to ignore the way your stomach flips at the sound of that.

The elevator dings and opens its doors to you. Quietly, you both get inside and as the doors close, and not a second sooner you are turning to your friend,

“What the Hell, Hansol?” you whisper urgently, “why—how did you lie like that?”

“You don’t spend as much time as I do with Yoon Jeonghan and not learn anything,” he shrugs, “it got us a room, didn’t it Kate?”

As soon as the door opened to your hotel room you dropped your bag on the floor and rushed to the window. The view overlooking the city was surely better in the other more expensive rooms but this was good enough for you. Hansol leaned against the wall behind you and watched as you perched yourself in the window sill.

The sun was just starting to set and you were determined to watch it disappear behind the skyscrapers. Hansol folded his arms over his chest, acutely aware that the two of you had already been on this trip for almost a week. He tries not to let the reality of life after college, after the trip hit him square in the chest, not now, not when you were so intently watching the slow descent of the sun from the window in the hotel room he lied his way into. Any of his friends would tell you that this was out of character, in any other situation Hansol is almost brutally honest, but if they knew it was for you, they wouldn’t bat an eye.

Hansol genuinely lost track of time just watching you get lost in your world, before he knew it the stars were twinkling overhead and the sun was long gone.

“I think we should go out” you announced without turning away from the window, Hansol’s heart jumped into his throat,

“What?!” he sputtered, trying to process what you just said to him.

“There are clubs here I’m sure,” you turned to him, “we should go out tonight” at your clarification Hansol let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding.

***

Clubbing wasn’t really Hansol’s scene, and you knew that, but you were hoping to help him break out of whatever anxiety fueled funk he had been in for almost the entire trip. You saw the spark in his eyes a bit back at the hotel when he scored a room. However, almost as soon as the two of you arrived at the club, he parked himself in a secluded corner near the bar and has been nursing a whiskey for the better part of an hour. Currently, you could feel his gaze boring into the back of your head as you were talking to someone on the dance floor.

“I’ve never seen you around here,” he puts a hand on your arm and leans into your ear so you could hear him over the music, “I frequent this spot, what brings you in?” you repressed a scoff, there’s no way this guy memorizes everyone coming to this club in this huge city.

“Oh” you back up slightly, “I’m just on a road trip and passing through” he followed you as you tried to step away from him, trying to stay in close proximity with you.

“Let me show you a good time then,” he put his hand back on your arm and the other on your hip. Unbeknownst to you, behind you Hansol had downed the rest of his drink. You felt a pair of arms snake around your waist and move you out of the man’s grasp. Looking up you saw Hansol, his jaw squarely set.

“Can I help you?” He nearly spat. You saw the other man’s eyes take in Hansol and then moved to rake over your body, “Speak up” Hansol glared.

“I was talking with her,” the man crossed his arms.

“And now” Hansol started turning you toward the exit, “you’re not” you melted into Hansol’s side and tried to just leave.

“Who are you anyway?” the man called, catching Hansol’s arm, “You didn’t even ask her if she wanted to leave with you.” Hansol’s eyes drifted down to where the man had ahold of him,

“I’m her husband,” he went to shake himself out of his grip but he was holding on tight, “I suggest you let go” the man’s hand dropped, “Good choice” and Hansol was sweeping you out of the building.

The cool air of the summer night bloomed in your lungs as you breathed more easily out on the street. Hansol has not let go of your waist, and you weren’t entirely sure if you wanted him to, after the alcohol and the interaction you had moments ago. “Are you okay?” Hansol asked, taking a step back from you, planting his hands on your hips, his eyes searching yours in a panic.

“I’m okay” you breathed, “but….thank you for stepping in when you did” He smiled at you, breathing a sigh of relief.

“Let’s go” he slipped his hand in yours and intertwined your fingers, so no one could question him again.

The walk home was…strange, to say the least. Hansol had never kept his hand in yours longer than it took to give it a reassuring squeeze in the several years the two of you have been friends. In addition to this, you never once felt like you wanted him to let go. You never questioned his assertion that he is your husband back at the club, that’s what he told the hotel, so might as well continue that, right?

In the elevator up to your room things only got stranger, Hansol wrapped his arms around your waist again, pressed the button for your floor, and unwrapped himself from you and stood at the opposite side of the small room, staring at you.

Entering your hotel room you watched Hansol close the door behind you. He took a deep breath and moved toward you, you stayed still, wondering what was about to happen. He cupped your cheek in his hand, setting a swarm of butterflies loose in your stomach.

“I think” he whispered, “if it’s okay with you, while we’re here, we should play pretend” his eyes searched yours again as his thumb moved to rest on your chin. You nodded, however added,

“Hansol…we, we’re friends…” your breath hitched as he applied pressure on your chin with his thumb,

“Ah” he watched your mouth open at his request, “but we’re Vernon and Kate here, we just got married, babe” the pet name rolled off his tongue so easily as he got impossibly closer to you and spit into your now open mouth, you almost recoiled as his action, before realizing he was right. What was there to lose at this point? You closed your mouth and swallowed without him having to ask, which earned you a groan, “God, what a good girl, I didn’t even have to ask…” and then his mouth was on yours, falling into rhythm as if this was something that happened all the time.

Your arms wrapped around his shoulders and your fingers toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck. His tongue swiped your bottom lip, requesting access that you swiftly granted. His tongue explored your mouth with a fervor that if you were less distracted would make you wonder how long he has waited for this moment. There was no time for thoughts like that, he was backing you toward the bed. He sat you down on the edge with your legs dangling off, and broke the kiss. Settling on the floor between your knees he began to help you remove your shoes, and then your pants, and he began to work towards your shirt before you cut him off with a whine. He looked up at you quizzically.

“Not fair,” you stated, “you’re still fully clothed.”

“Earn it” he chuckled, and reached between your legs to lay the pads of his fingers on your clothed cunt, “shouldn’t be too hard, considering you’re so wet for me already,” which earned him the deepest blush he has ever seen gracing your cheeks. He began slow ruminations on your clit over your underwear, your hips bucking involuntarily at the stimulation, “that’s right” he nearly growled. What you’ve learned about Hansol over the last several years is that he is a patient man, he doesn’t need to rush, but you really wish he would right about now. Another whine escaped your lips trying to egg him on.

Evidently, it worked because he began to peel your ruined panties away from your dripping heat, “God babe, you’re beautiful, all ready for me” he lined himself up and gathered up his saliva and spit into your already wet cunt. He used the mixture of wetness between your legs to ease two fingers inside of you, moaning at the sensation of being filled, your eyes screwed shut. The pad of his thumb found your clit and he began to circle the bundle of nerves meticulously. “Remember what you’re working for” he reminded you, picking up his pace. You felt the coil in your stomach begin to tighten as you heard his fingers working in your pussy.

“I’m…” you cut yourself off with a moan as Hansol curled his fingers inside you to inch you closer to your approaching high.

“Let go” was all you needed for the coil to snap and white hot pleasure overtook your senses. “That’s it, you did so well for me” you heard Hansol’s soothing voice as you were coming down. Your eyes fluttered open as he was standing up from between your legs and pulling his shirt over his head.

“Here,” you sat up and reached for his belt, “I can help” you added, unhooking the belt and pulling his pants and his boxers down. You watched as his cock sprung free, hard and leaking already. Pulling him closer by his hips you watched his face intently, a mix of lust and anticipation. You took him in your hand and he let out a hiss, “You need it that badly?” At your comment he took a handful of your hair and pulled it so you were looking up at him and he gave you a warning look. You nodded in understanding and gave his cock a few pumps before leaning down. You took the tip into your mouth and swirled your tongue around his slit, taking in the precum that had already mixed with your saliva.

“Let me” he thrusted experimentally. You hollowed out your cheeks and sunk your lips further down, in a way letting him know he could use your mouth to get off. He grunted and thrusted into your mouth at a bit of a rushed pace, it was obvious that he was wound up tight. “Good girl, letting me use her, fuck” tears pricked at the corners of your eyes but you were determined. Hansol’s thrusts became sloppy as the tears began to stream down your cheeks, using the hand that was still in your hair he pulled you off his dick, “you have another one in you” he stated as he lay you down on the bed.

He hovered over you and wiped your tears with his thumb, “you okay?” he asked quietly, you nodded, not being able to form words at the moment. “Good” he smiled down at you, you felt him tease his cock head through your folds. You flinched from the sensitivity. Slowly, he eased into you. Simultaneously, you both moaned at the sensation, which made you smile at each other, like this was just another normal night in your friendship, even though that was so far from the truth.

After letting you adjust to his size he began to thrust slowly in and out of you. “I won’t last long, you did too well…” he choked out, your pussy clenching around him at the continued praise. His thrusts again became erratic and you knew he was close. Somehow, you were impossibly close as well, chasing a high that snuck up on you. You felt every delicious drag of his cock on your walls before you felt Hansol pull out and his white ropes shot into your stomach as your high crashed into you.

Hansol pushed his sweat drenched hair off his forehead. The two of you stared at each other for a few fleeting moments, realizing the gravity of what just happened, before silently agreeing that you will figure all of that out later. He climbed out of the bed and hurried to the bathroom and returned moments later with a warm towel and a glass of water.

“Are you okay?” he asked again as he was gently wiping himself off of your stomach.

“Yes,” you assured him, “I am surprisingly calm about what just happened” he smiled up at you before leaning down to kiss your now clean stomach.

***

Hansol and yourself didn’t talk about that night for the next several days, but nothing went back to normal either. He was holding your hand, he was giving you kisses, and right now he had his hand on your thigh as you left that city behind. Hansol insisted you stay there for a few more days than you had originally planned, you had a sneaking suspicion as to why but you decided not to push it. You weren’t one to complain, especially when you were getting pleased nearly every night.

“Take me to see the ocean” you piped up suddenly.

“What?” Hansol laughed looking over at you quickly before returning his eyes to the road.

“Sounds like a good way to end this little adventure” you shrugged. You felt Hansol freeze up for a moment before recovering.

“Right” he muttered, “Let’s get you to the ocean,” he said, squeezing your thigh.

***

You watched out the window as the ocean came into view on your side, you had been to the ocean once in your life, but it seemed important to see it now for some reason. Seeing something so grand felt like a great way to begin your new life in the next few days, you were nervous, but so excited. You watched as Hansol parked the truck in a public beach access parking lot and turned to you.

“Ready?” he smiled

“Ready” you smiled back. You walked hand in hand over the sand and the sea breeze catching your hair. It was early evening by the time you had found your way here so it was cooling down as the sun was setting.

Hansol spread one of the blankets from the truck over the sand, close enough to see the waves but not close enough that it would get soaked from a rogue wave. You sat down and Hansol slotted himself behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

You don’t know how long you sat, in quiet contemplation, neither one of you wanting to break whatever spell settled over you two over the last week or so. “Hansol-” you started,

“Vernon” he tried to correct.

“No,” you said firmly, “Hansol, what are we doing?”

“Two more days,” he sighed, “Just…give me two more days, I swear you’ll get back in time” he rested his chin on your shoulder, waiting for your response.

“Two more days, and I get to call you Hansol”

“Deal”

***

You left the beach headed for home two days later, as promised. Hansol drove quietly away from whatever the last few weeks were between you, his hands were firmly on the wheel, he hadn’t touched you at all today. It’s as if with your kiss goodnight the illusion was broken and you were back to reality. You weren’t sure which was better for you, living like Hansol was your boyfriend or having him as your best friend again. Then again, you weren’t sure why you couldn’t have both honestly.

About an hour into your drive Hansol took the joint out from behind his ear and tried to pass it to you wordlessly.

“Oh, I can’t” you told him, “I start my job next week and they told me I need to pass a drug test before my first day” Hansol dropped the joint, pulled over, and flung open his door, “Hansol?! What the fuck are you doing?” You followed him into the woods on the side of the road, “Hansol!” you caught his arm and pulled him so he was facing you, there were tears in his eyes.

“God I am so stupid” he wiped his eyes furiously with the back of his hand.

“Hansol what’s going on” your voice softened at the sight of his tears, you wanted so desperately to wipe them away, but thought better of it due to the nature of the situation.

“Y/N” this is the first time he has used your real name, not a pet name or Kate, in several days, it almost felt foreign to your ears, “this is it! Your gone after this, you’ll be working and busy, I’ll have lost you and everyone I care about” he threw his head back, looking at the sky, “I have no plans, no job, and no friends,” he looks back down at you, “and you can’t even smoke my weed”

“Hansol…I-” you tried.

“No it’s true, everyone is gone, Hell, some of the guys have moved across the country, I’ll be lucky if I ever see Seungkwan again” Hansol was crying now. “And I know this is a great opportunity for him, and for you, I’m so proud of all of you, but what about me, what am I supposed to do, Y/N?” he pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, you could tell he felt stupid about crying and feeling sorry for himself.

“Move in with me” you blurted out, without really thinking, but it felt like a logical thing to say. You watched as he pulled his hands away from his eyes,

“What?”

“You heard me,” you moved closer to him and rubbed his arms with your hands, “move in with me”

“Like…as friends or-” “No” you cut him off, “absolutely not as friends,” it was his turn to cut you off, he closed the short distance between you and pressed his lips firmly to yours.

#chwe hansol x reader #chwe hansol fluff #chwe hansol smut #chwe vernon x reader #chwe vernon smut #vernon x reader #seventeen smut #seventeen vernon #seventeen imagines #svt smut #svt imagines #hansol x reader #hansol vernon chwe #seventeen scenarios #svt x reader #svt fluff #svt angst #bennie’s works

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samarecharm · 1 day

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People who really like shuake also seem to write themselves into a corner wrt Akechi and his relationship to Akiras team. Contrary to popular belief, the team, including Haru, does not hate Akechi. At worst, they tolerate him and deal with his attitude. Hes a good teammate and respectable fighter and the team recognizes that at the end of the day, he was a teenager who was manipulated and abused by a man who saw him as disposable. Just about every thief understands this intimately. They have the same mindset wrt adults who take advantage of the people beneath them. Under different circumstances they wouldve been friends. And if u approach it from that angle, it becomes less about Akechi being the sole person who ‘gets’ Akira, and more about the thieves being the only people in the world who ‘get’ Akechi.

When you expand your thoughts to include the thieves as members of his Team and not roadblocks that get in the way of your ideal shipping dynamic, you allow urself to give Akechi and Akira more depth and nuance to their own relationship.

Akira and Akechi are wildcards; both of them struggle with the face they choose to display to the world. Its the first time Akira interacts with someone who is, at a literal, technical level, his ‘equal’. But Akechi is one of many firsts for Akira yeah? Every thief has their bond with Akira thats completely unique and personal. Akechi will never be the person who witnesses Akiras Awakening, hes never the person who watches Akira have his restless nights alone in the attic, and hes never the person who realizes in real time that the teenager hes housing is just Some Kid, not the delinquent hes been warned about. Hes not Ann or Yusuke, or any of the thieves; he doesnt have the time or experience that they have with Akira, and I think its interesting to explore that part of their relationship, shippy or not.

Akechi is someone who is incredibly lonely and self depreciating despite his cockiness and attitude. He has no positive bonds to speak of save for his connection with Sae. To have him see a team that works together and cares for each other, how do you think he would feel? Out of place? Inferior in some way? Angry about how hes been alone for so long in this single minded quest for revenge? Wouldnt that be a point of struggle between the two of them? I think what makes shuake good for me is knowing that Akechi needs alot of time to heal, and the thieves would want to help with that process. They do it bc they care, bc Akira cares, and bc they trust Akiras opinion (and he trusts theirs in return); if Akira feels like Akechi is someone who can be trusted Now after everything thats happened, then the thieves would do their best to help. And how would Akechi feel about that? Angry about the show of pity? That even now, he has no real say in what happens to him? Or begrudgingly grateful that they are cordial with him? Because they do care, he KNOWS they care, they care TOO MUCH actually; but the one thing he values over brawn and wits is honesty- fighting for what you believe in without having to use soft words to justify it.

#chattin #also like. as an aside #my hcs regarding these two is like. they could not date. theyd kill each other lmao #and like TOTALLY by all means i am obsessed w unhealthy dynamics for shipping #let ur boys be toxic. let them be messy and loud and violent. its like crack to me #but just like fandom as a whole; fanon interpretations are prevalent and LOUD #and so trying to interact with it is like pulling teeth #personally. i think too many of them think of Akechi as like. the Rude one of the bunch #when i like to think of Akira as rude and full of himself when its deserved #and man. being able to outwit Akechi makes it Fully deserved #and i like to think Akira would remind him of this when he tries to intimidate or degrade his team #like. i have a short wip i never finished (basic sketches)#of Akira pulling him aside and grilling him #‘youre here because I Want you here. youre here bc i Allow you to be here’#‘if youre going to stoop low and play petty i can do the same. if theres anyone on my team whos a fucking idiot; its you.’#‘dont make me reconsider having you on the team.’#and akechis like okay great does ur dick feel big trying to pull rank on me?#but really hes fuming. hes MAD. like feral dog mad. bc akira is RIGHT. like he is most times as akechi starts to see.#he has enough of a mind to recognize that hes lashing out bc of his own shortcomings; even if he refuses to admit it out loud #its beyond infuriating. its degrading. its a little 😶.#never had to deal w anyone that rivaled his own brawn and wits. and now theres a TEAM of them #just humbling him time and time again. it sucks. he stays bc he cant help himself 😭#he needs to see more…#also #shuake #for blacklisting

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damn-stark · 1 day

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Chapter 41 Thus with a kiss I die

Chapter 41 of Sugar

A/N- No surprises by Radiohead, you won’t thank me later but it fits this chapter!!!!

Warning- Swearing, ANGST!!!, death, flashback, SPOILERS!!!! long chapter!

Pairing- Choso x Gojo!fem-reader, Suguru Geto x Gojo!fem-reader

Episode and or chapters- Chapter 259

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

*SOMETIME AGO*

“Blood manipulation training day 1,” you talk to the camera and back up to show Itadori, Kamo, and Choso training, but first you pamper yourself and smile at the camera before stepping away to let the others get in view.

“What are you doing?” Kamo asks right as he spots the camera across the mat.

The three of you look at him and you glance at the camera as if it isn’t obvious before looking back at him and explaining. “Recording today's training? It’s good to record some part of it and go back to see what you did wrong. Aoi and I would do that when Yuki trained us. It’s,” you snort and shake your head. “It’s a pretty good idea. We have a lot of funny reels—”

“Fine.”

You pout at the boy's interruption and sit down on one of the benches to watch the blood manipulators at work.

Honestly, you wouldn’t have come but Choso insisted because he wanted to show you how he taught his brother.

“Hm…the trick to convergence,” Choso muses as he rubs his chin in a very smug manner.

“It looks like I’ll be doing switch training with Okkotsu, and Kusakabe,” Itadori says. “So I’ll need to work on blood manipulation the hard way. And we only have one month. Gimme every piece of advice ya got!”

“Through blood and tears,” you interject quietly as you think of a funny pun, and end up catching the attention of all three men.

“Oh,” Yuji feigns a laugh, whilst Kamo looks at you unamused, and Choso rubs his chin and squints at you.

“You’ll just need to learn through blood and tears Itadori,” you repeat louder and a lot more smug because you could think of something you deem funny.

“Literally,” he feigns another laugh and this time Choso finally snorts and chuckles, making you smile wider.

“Good one,” he points at you. “I like that one.”

You shrug smugly and cross one leg over there. “Now why don’t you show me what you got baby.”

Choso’s cheeks grow a shade of pink but he doesn’t falter this time, not in front of his brother.

“Well, convergence,” he turns and swings his arm. “It’s kinda like this…” he pauses and swings to the other side. “Then like that…then a lil’…”

Oh, what a sweet man. As good of a brother as he is, he doesn't really know how to teach does he?

“Seriously dude?!” Itadori remarks.

Then again maybe it’s the student as well.

“Cho!” You call him out, and he peers back to listen. “Why don’t you show him that blood armor thing?!” You suggest so he could take off his vest and his shirt.

“Well,” he finally tells you smugly without breaking into timidness. “Maybe…”

“He’s not ready,” Kamo cuts him off and faces Itadori. “Think of bathing in hot water. You can feel the heat encompassing your entire body. In that same way, you can expand your blood vessels, creating a vague outline of your body. That’s the basic foundation of blood manipulation. ”

Hm simple enough. A lot more helpful than Choso's way of teaching.

“Like when you piss yourself?” Itadori surprises you by blurting, which shouldn't be surprising, he has this goofy sense of humor, but still, ew.

“Uh, whatever works,” Kamo mutters with the same disgust you feel.

“Convergence is a technique that compresses your blood,” Kamo continues sharing with Itadori. “Meaning we can use a sponge or paper- anything that can be crumpled in your hand easily—To help with imagining it’s a similar feeling, cans or clay work too.” He motions with his hand, making Itafori nod in comprehension before turning to face his older brother.

“Choso,” he says. “This is what it means to teach someone.”

You look over at your boyfriend and can’t help but smile and grin even brighter when he starts to point at himself. “Supernova! Ask me about Supernova!”

“For starters,” Kamo counters quite respectfully. “We don’t have time to make blood manipulation a potent weapon for Itadori. It’ll be better for him to get the basics of stitching and stopping blood down.”

“Hmph,” Choso huffs in defeat and with a hanging pout that makes you walk over behind him to probe.

“I would like to know about Supernova.”

Choso slumps down and mutters in defeat. “You can’t even use blood manipulation.”

You push away from him and sit back down with the same pout he just used when he got rejected for teaching.

So much for tagging along!

Nevertheless amidst your growing boredom as you listen to Kamo, your phone rings, and when you check, it’s none other than your business partner, Kong.

“Oh, well what a welcoming surprise,” you greet the man smoothly. “Kong. Honey.”

At the sound of the man’s name Choso slowly sits up straight after being brushed aside to be replaced by the better teacher.

“Geto,” Kong greets quite irritatedly.

You sigh and sit back. “Can we make this quick, I’m in the middle of something.”

“Fine, get this man to stop following me. I gave you everything you needed. You found Geto, leave me alone,” he says rather brashly, which is not to your liking.

“Oh? Well fine,” you feign reassurance but then lean forward and actually click your tongue and inhale deeply as you prepare to bring something up. “But lately there’s been this…well, how can I put this…rat running around in my business…and you know if you don’t kill them they just fester and then it’s hard getting rid of them. What should I do?” You ask casually and glance at your nails.

Kong doesn’t miss what you’re insinuating with that clever choice of words so he sighs deeply and quickly argues. “I gave you everything you have. It’s all mine.”

You sit up and laugh, genuinely laugh, making his breath falter.

“You believe that?” You ask quietly in a voice that makes chills run down Choso’s spine.

“I know it,” Kamo claims confidently.

You feign a smile and remark sweetly. “Your business would’ve been nothing without me. I made it what it is, it’s mine, but because you did lend me a hand in starting it, I’ll give you a second chance. Or else I’ll call the exterminator, it’s not impossible to get rid of rats. Good day, Kong.”

You end the call and put your phone away before sitting up and swinging one leg over the other to continue watching the teaching going on in front of you.

“You know…” Choso trails on. “I could show you piercing blood. It’s pretty simple.”

You blink and look over at him, feeling your whole body ease at the mere sight of those rich brown eyes and that sweet smile. And after seeing him get turned down for teaching after being so excited and talking your ear off about all the things he’d teach Yuji, how can you turn him down?

“All right,” you give in and jump to your feet.

Choso follows you up and slips behind you to slip his hands under your elbows and push your arms out, making you smirk mischievously and bat your lashes before peering over at him.

Choso sees that smirk playing on your lips and swallows thickly before looking at your hands. “Focus,” he scolds you softly since he’s fighting the temptation of your soft lips calling his own to you.

“Okay then tell me.”

“Well,” He goes on and slithers his hands down your arms to grasp the back of your hands and push them together.

“It usually, you know, runs up to my fingers and I shoot. And that happens by bringing up all the blood to my hands and shooting at my target,” he says with growing excitement that makes you genuinely smile and just watch how his pupils glimmer. “I usually feel the heat and a…blood orb collects in between my palms before I shoot it. Which is similar to fire, hm?”

You summon fire to your palms, feeling the heat of the flames run through your veins before they glow under your fingertips. You don’t intend to shoot so you can keep the fire inside so as to not make a mess and disrupt the other learning opportunity happening across from you, but you give Choso your answer.

“Hm,” you hum in agreement and turn your head slightly to meet his gaze, feeling his burning desire under his inventive gaze, and his hot passion on your hips as he gently squeezes them.

“Your stance matters,” he speaks quietly but in an enticing way. “Your footing on the ground must be strong.” He says and glances at your lips, making you feel his blood rushing down to his member between his legs since he presses himself close to your back.

“What else?” You purr and bat your lashes, making him part his lips and breathe in but not mutter anything, you leave him at a loss for words over such simple gestures.

But he also burns you up with his intoxicating smell engulfing your sense of smell, those soft pink lips grazing the side of your ear, his hot breath unfurling over your cheekbone, and that sexy look in those beautiful rich eyes.

He’s such a distraction as he stands so close and that’s a mistake because before you know it, fire shoots out of your hands pointed ahead. When you feel it slip out of your fingers it’s already flying right in between Kamo and Itadori, and hitting the wall, completely missing them by mere inches.

“Oh,” you gasp and cover your mouth.

Choso steps back and looks at the burning hole you made and then looks at the shocked faces of his brother and very distant relative.

“I’m sorry,” you quickly say apologetically as you clutch onto your chest. “I’m…” you trail off and glance over at Choso, but that’s a grave mistake because the moment you do, you both watch each other with guilt for a second, but then you both look over at the black hole emitting smoke from the aftermath and start laughing.

Kamo and Itadori don’t find it funny because they were close to getting burnt, and Choso does feel sorry for almost being the cause of hurting his little brother, but you both can’t help but just laugh with each other. It’s like you’re enticed by each other, and hearing each other laugh only feeds into your humor.

——

*NOW*

Amidst the scorching heat that was quick to force itself through your secret art technique that was slowly failing at keeping you and Yuji safe from Sukuna’s divine flames, was suddenly a life-saving coolness that came with a pitch darkness.

Perhaps it’s your end, this was death coming back to collect what escaped its grasp before.

You don’t want to die. Not yet. Not in front of Choso, not when Satori is waiting for you to go and pick her up to take her home. You don’t want to die here either…

However, before you can convince yourself you’re dead, through the deafening darkness is Choso. He’s very close to you, and he was the one who saved you and Yuji from those deadly flames.

You had heard him calling out to you before, but this wildfire was so overwhelming that your mind quickly drifted your attention away. But now he’s here, he’s your savior and you can't help but smile with relief until your heart sinks to your stomach and this sudden bone-chilling fear hits you.

Something doesn’t feel right. Something doesn’t look right about him keeping up the shield made of blood, and rather than him just being covered in soot and slashes like Yuji and you, Choso seems to be getting slowly consumed by fire. And you would know, you have that technique, you know how it kills a person and the pungent smell of burning flesh.

But this can’t be what you see or smell, not from him.

“Choso,” your voice shakes while you still want to smile as you cling onto hope.

Said man meets your gaze and a charming smile decorates his features. He then glances at his brother and his smile only turns more fond as he speaks his name and yours with a gentle tenderness.

“Choso?!” Yuji exclaims as he too starts to realize what you do but what you keep wanting to refuse.

“What are you doing?!” Yuji proceeds to yell.

You study your husband's face and that fire seems to be consuming more of him right in front of you, and you can’t even stop it.

“You can’t do this!” Yuji remarks.

That smile doesn’t falter, his eyes drift down but that charming smile stays on his face. “I’m sorry,” he finally explains what’s going on. “I was useless during training. Your big brother tends to do things instinctively.”

Why can’t he stop?

Why don’t the flames stop?

Why?

“Cho—” Yuji cuts himself off mid-shout and draws in a shaky breath before his face falls and averts his gaze. “Instinctively, huh? You really hit the nail on the head…” he trails off and shares a moment of silence with his brother that makes you think that he needs to stop or he’ll die. The fire keeps eating at him. It keeps taking more of him away from you.

“Choso,” your whisper trembles, and the charming man slowly looks over at you. This time that smile falters.

“What are you doing?” You ask the same thing Yuji asked not long ago in hopes the answer would change and the outcome would be a hopeful one.

“My love,” he whispers softly and with so much fondness. “I’m sorry.”

You shake your head and step forward. “You promised,” you throw at him with a burst of anger. “You swore!”

He nods without shame and swallows back a lump of emotions he didn’t want you or his brother to see. “I did, I meant to keep that promise, I really did, but what husband, what brother, and what father would I be if I let you all die when I can do something to stop it?”

“We could find a way,” you argue desperately. “I can—”

“No, I saw it,” he cuts you off confidently. “You were going to collapse and I was going to have to watch you die all over again. I don’t want to live just to see that again, you deserve a happy life. I wish—”

“No!” You bellow mid-sentence and want to lunge forward to grab his face as if that would stop the inevitable, but the space is so small that there's no room to move any further, leaving him just out of arm's reach.

“Please, no,” your anger falters and your agony seeps through. “Please…Choso. Tell me what you want to say after. Please,” you break into a shaky sob.

His smile trembles and his eyes cloud with tears, but instead of saying all the beautiful things he wants to recite to you from one moment to another your surroundings go from grim and then to a serene view of vivid green hills, and a timid sun letting the night sky shine.

“Tsukumo threatened to pop my head off my body if I ever hurt you,” Choso mentions casually. “I didn’t believe she could do it until I saw her technique at work.”

You blink and keep your eyes fixated on the beautiful scene conjured up by nothing but the last remnants of his will.

“She was really protective of you,” he mumbles as he starts to notice your aggravation. “But that’s how big sisters are…” he trails off and he reaches over to grab your hand but you pull it away and hug your knees to your chest as you keep watching the gentle breeze move the sea of grass.

“I’ve,” you stammer and clear your throat to let your anger sound clear. “I've lost so many people I have loved, and maybe it’s my fault. I’ve gotten attached to them in this cruel world, but…I thought you wouldn’t let me down. You out of everyone. So w-why?” You can’t help but cry before you snap your head to the side to pierce your watery glare into him. “W-why are you leaving me?”

Choso sees how the last glimmers of the sun capture your eyes and his breath catches in his throat while that tough act falls because the truth is you were one of the few people he could be completely vulnerable with. You could see him sob and he wouldn’t feel like he was looking weak, he didn’t feel like he was letting someone down by crying in front of them. He feels comforted.

“I don't want to,” he finally admits with every word pampered with emotion. “I wanted to live a long life with you and our family. I want to be a father, I want to be by your side, but I’ve lost you once, and I’ve let Yuji down once, I can’t do it again. I can’t…so please don’t fight me on this, my love, please just let me look at you one more time. That way when I look into your eyes all I’ll see is my sun…my moon…my stars…my most beloved, my love, you.”

You can’t. You can’t accept this fate, you can’t pretend to be okay just to make him feel better about his sacrifice. No matter how sweet his words are, you don’t want them to be the last thing you hear, you don’t want this to be your final moments together.

You can’t be selfless. Your heart shattering and turning to nothing but dust terrorizes you. Your chest collapses within itself, and the beauty of the world vanishes to nothing, so you can’t smile.

You sit across from him like you would do when you would watch the city in your sleepless nights when you were trapped in that apartment for nine days. You hold his gaze with your eyes pampered with tears so you can plead and beg speechlessly and desperately like your life depended on it. Because it does, he’s the light that had once vanished in your life, he’s your hope and a part of your soul. How can you not fight for his life?

“Please don’t do this to me,” you cry, but not in that made-up world, you tell his withering body that had little to nothing left of the man you love because of that scorching fire that keeps consuming him.

“I love you,” he redirects endearingly and with that same amount of appreciation and tenderness he always held for you since the day he remembered who you were and what you meant to his old soul.

Albeit you’re selfish, these are the last words you’ll hear from him. Ever. After this…all he’ll be is a memory and you can’t accept it. You already lost one man you loved to death, you can’t lose another one to him again. Not again.

“Choso please don't do this! Stop! Please stop,” you beg with your life. “Choso!”

He holds your fire-kissed eyes that he loves so much and that he found hope in after a century of darkness, and all he sees is his joy as well as the love of his life and he can't be happier that fate was kind enough to let him cross paths with you.

“I love you,” he says a lot softer and with a quiver he can’t hide.

“No,” you sob. “Don’t leave me, please don’t leave me!”

He wishes he could stay and live a long life, he hates hearing you plead so heartbrokenly, but he can’t watch you or Yuji die, he has to do what he needs to do.

Thus he holds your gaze for a lingering second and then looks at his little brother.

“Thank you Yuji,” he now dedicates his last words to his little brother before his life can be taken once and for all. “Thank you for being my little brother.”

Yuji inhales sharply and shakily before filling his brother's heart with sweet words full of love. “Thank you. Big brother…”

After those words are uttered Choso’s chest stops moving once and for all, filling his protective blood bubble with a grieving silence that you can’t process.

You stand there with no heart left, and hundreds of words left in your mouth that you never got to tell him.

“Choso,” you call out even if you’re looking at a cruel reality. “My love?”

The protective blood shield that kept your surroundings dark begins to collapse welcoming a grim sight of thick smoke and a burnt city, proving Choso’s attempts worthwhile.

But you can’t be appreciative, not when his lifeless body falls on the ash-covered ground with a thud. You actually can’t even believe he’s gone—no refuse to accept the truth.

“Choso,” you cry out and crawl over to his body that would’ve been unrecognizable if you hadn’t seen him burn away. “Choso, baby, you,” you say between sobs. “You’re okay. You’ll be okay.”

You gently cradle him and lean your face down towards his. “Just heal, you can do that,” you speak madness. “Do that for me please.”

You don’t think of your babies growing inside you who won’t know their father, you don’t care about his brother he left behind or that some part of you thinks you deserve this agony for all the things you’ve done, all you care about is him and your grief.

“Choso, honey,” you coo as you caress his hardened face. “Heal. Please,” you beg.

There’s still so much you want to tell him. You still need to tell him you love him, how grateful you are to him for loving you even after all the evil you did, for loving someone so cruel and selfish; for seeing the good, your strength, and your beauty. You never got to thank him for all the happiness he filled you with, or for caring for your daughter the way he did.

You never got to tell him that he was the love of your life, or that he completed your soul.

He left you like Suguru left you, and like Satoru did.

He left you empty with no heart or soul left. There’s an empty shell, left even more hollow without your brother. And it hurts, it pains you deeply with such an agonizing pain you have never felt before. It leaves you numb and unaware of the fact that in the blink of an eye, you were suddenly transported with lifeless Choso in your arms just past the area Sukuna vaporized with his fire.

From one moment to another, you’re facing a leveled city straight out of apolocpyse, and the next you’re staring numbly at an abandoned city as empty as the husk you call your body.

You would say that you were alleviated from that sense of danger, but the truth is you didn’t feel it. You don't feel the urgency to move away and protect yourself or who you carry in your body, nothing matters but the hope that Choso will somehow return. And now that nothing else surrounds you, now that Sukuna isn’t stomping your way through the clouds of smoke, you just disassociate yourself. By will or not you don’t know or care. You’re alone, truly alone.

And once again you can’t cling onto the love you have for your kids, no matter how hard you want to, you can’t depend all your happiness on a little girl. How could you give her that burden?

So it means that your greatest fear came true, you’re alone at the end of the world, carrying the corpse of your happiness, half your soul, and surrounded by the fading debris of what used to be.

What can you do now but lay down on the cold ground beside Choso’s corpse and nuzzle against him like you would in the mornings when you were both just relaxing before starting your day. You drape your arm around him like you liked to do so you could keep him close and bask in his warmth. You rest your head on his chest as if you were listening to his heartbeat.

Your world is now so desolate that nothing matters. You’re not cold or in a hurry to help.

You don’t care—or try not to…But the truth is you’re terrified and in withering pain. And never in your life have you ever felt so alone like now.

“You’re such a liar,” you whisper as if he could hear you. “You lied to me. You swore and you lied.”

You should hate him, find happiness, and hate him for leaving you the way he did, but you can’t even fathom the thought. You’re too in love with him to ever hate him or the happy memories that will surely turn sour soon.

“Why did you have to leave me?” You demand to know from a corpse as you refuse to accept reality. “Why? I love you so much…I told you I would die for you…”

You trail off to wait for a response because you know he’d tell you to shut up about doing something stupid, but it was far from a lie, and it was romantic in your head.

Now you understand why that foolish man from that tragic story killed himself for the woman he loved. You understand his pain, and his desperation to see the one you love again so you won’t have to spend a second longer without them. You know now why he couldn’t fathom living on…

Because there’s nothing left. You’re all alone, and there’s nothing worse than that. Which is why you’ll do it.

You’ll die for the man you love.

“Because,” you swear to whatever bind that holds power in your world. “What does strength mean compared to living without you? What is pride when there’s nothing to be proud of in the wake of your loss that will always hurt me and feel like a fresh wound? I don’t want to drag on without you. So please,” you sob into his chest. “Bring him back, I don’t care if he’s a non-sorcerer, just bring him back…”

You’ll give it up, your strength and power that held you so above everyone else. You’ll live as the people you hated. You’ll love the kind of people you hated and scorned for what they couldn’t have just so you don’t live without him. You will leave behind the person you took so long to build to your image. You will die just so you can live on with him by your side until the day you die.

And it can be a few hours from now, you don’t care, you just want him back.

“Please,” you beg whatever force made up the binding vows. “Please.”

You slowly sit up to look at Choso’s face, or what was left of him, and beg with all your agony and might. “Please just come back. Please Choso.” You whisper breathlessly and lean down to whisper against his lips and plead one more time with all the might and sincerity you hold.

“Please come back as gentle and sweet, as caring and passionate, as funny and protective as you were.”

You close your eyes and press your lips against Choso’s one more time, unaware of the fate you sealed, and of the gift of life and death you gave from deep inside of your withered soul with a sweet kiss.

When silence follows to consume you once again, it soon gets disrupted, but this time it’s not you that fills it with sorrowful words, this time Shoko calls out your name, but you don’t bother to get up.

Not because you’re waiting to see if your fate is sealed, you just don’t get up because you don’t have the energy. You’re too numb.

“Honey, get up and let me take you both inside,” she speaks sweetly and with caution.

You stay quiet and still as if you were lifeless yourself, so Shoko decides to slowly walk to you while someone else decides to cut in now; someone younger and sweeter and who doesn’t smoke ten packs in an hour.

Kirara calls out for you and they’re much faster to reach you and actually attempt to see if you were alive, or dead like the man you’re cradling.

“You can be with him inside. Come on, I'll help you.” They offer.

You close your eyes and sigh shakily, letting more hot tears stream down your cheeks,

“Come on,” Kirara doesn’t plead with you, she grabs your arm but makes sure to caress it as she offers her comfort first. “I’m sure this is uncomfortable, and I’m sure you’re cold.”

If you get up you’ll see Kirara, you’ll welcome their comfort. You’ll see Shoko and appreciate her attempts at comforting you, but you’ll still be alone, you won’t see the one person who you’re aching to see in such a low time in your life, Satoru won’t be there to wrap you an embrace or silently sit with you to provide comfort in a way he knows how.

You’ll stand surrounded by people but be abandoned.

“No,” you say hoarsely and grab onto Choso’s body a little tighter. “I want to stay here with him, I’m waiting.”

You open your eyes and catch Kirara's worried glance they share with Shoko.

Yet even then Shoko doesn’t walk over, so Kirara pulls you up and to avoid actually being a nuisance you push yourself up, but never take your eyes off Choso’s corpse.

“You fought well,” Kirara praises you as they wrap a blanket around your shoulders. “You all did.”

“I’ll have someone carry him inside you’ve already overstrained yourself,” Shoko breaks her silence that you begin to find odd. You’re surprised she’s not by your side being as worried as Kirara, she's actually being rather pushy after you returned from fighting Kenjaku.

Maybe all this has just taken a toll on her…

“You’ve been outside too long you feel rather cold,” Kirara points out as they drag their feet with you as you move slowly as if doing so is wearing you down.

“Shoko,” you catch the woman off guard and slowly drag your eyes up, letting her see how red your eyes are from crying so much, and the beautiful tragedy scared on every detail of your face and only spread its roots deeper within you. She can especially see such tragedy in your eyes, it’s hard to miss just like the sudden change.

Once furious eyes blazing with mesmerizing and ferocious fire are losing their mark.

But how, she wonders. Is your grief really impacting you so hard that it’s taking a physical toll on you?

“Kirara let's walk her into my office, I want to check on her,” she tells them as if you’re not there—then again you kind of aren’t there.

“Yuji? Where is Yuji?” You finally express your concern.

Shoko meets your gaze but quickly averts it. “Still fighting,” she lets you know and doesn’t fully relieve you of that worry, but you’re relieved he’s still alive.

“Todo used his technique and brought you in,” Kirara trails on after Shoko.

Aoi?

You glance over at Kirara with worry and they don’t fail to quickly assure you as if they knew what you were going to ask. “He’s fine, he should be helping Itadori fight now, so don’t worry.”

You sigh with relief even if now you have a bigger knot in your stomach because Todo is fighting now too.

“Kinji?” You ask for a man you haven’t heard anything about, even though given the fact that he wasn’t out fighting Sukuna, or here now means he should still be fighting Uraume.

“He’s still fighting, just like you said he would,” Kirara tells you with hope still laced in her voice which makes you think how beautiful it is to hear before you reach Shoko and wonder why she’s having such a hard time meeting your eyes, or even being close to you.

“Shoko,” you call out softly to your best friend and have Kirara stop so you can reach for Shoko’s arm with the intent to ask if she’s okay, or if something else happened, but then just as you thought that this was the end of your world, another pair of footsteps echo towards you.

You don’t think anything of it, you don’t want to because you assume someone is coming to collect Choso’s body, but Shoko shifts her head away and you catch a glimpse of black shoes you recognize. Black shoes you recognized first not long ago.

Can it be?

No, it can't, he's…dead.

But…

You draw in a deep and trembling breath and slowly scale your eyes up the approaching figure, feeling your pulse quickly racing as you recognize those baggy white pants you once thought were too big to wear for a fight, and that tight black shirt that hugged him tightly.

As you reach his face you question your sanity. It has to be your grief, it can’t be who you think it is right across from you.

He’s dead. He…he…

Oh, but those eyes. They’re so unique and so kind. How can you mistake that lively gleam in his eyes that always accompanied him? How can you mistake those bright eyes that you called home, that you found comfort in when you were terrified and upset?

You can’t mistake the eyes of your beloved older brother. You can’t miss the fact that his chest is moving and that he blinks. You can’t mistake him for an illusion because he revives that hope you had just lost with the death of your most beloved.

You can’t mistake him because he’s standing right there in front of you amongst the silent wind, the distant and unwelcoming warmth, and under the dry sky.

“Satoru,” you muse blissfully.

A/N- WHAT IS THE WORST THING SHE CAN DO AFTER FINDING OUT ABOUT WHAT THEY DID WITH GOJOS BODY?

Tagged- @deniseabad1928 @secondary-character-25 @starlightanyaaa @notsaelty @d4rno @moonnime @kodzukein @yozora7154 @heijihattorisgf @elegantweirdorchest @natakina

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cyanidas · 2 days

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⚠️SHSL Detective ! Kazuichi Souda 🕵️‍♂️

I'm hoping to make a small series of fun lil sprite edits with my talentswap AU that scrambles the talents of Class 77 and Class 78, and has its own weird lil story to go with it

(someday I'll think of a cool shorthand title. maybe. perhaps. as a treat. i would also like to write this story someday... we will see, since evidently im allergic to projects)

Headcanons? Headcanons for Detective Souda?

(also a lil comparison between this one and normal Kazu, and some AU info)

For this AU, characters' original body types, general interests/inclinations, and much of their personality is intact - the only parts of their personality that change are things influenced by their line of work alone. A lot of who we are and who we become tends to be influenced by our interests, which in turn is influenced by our upbringing, which also influences who we are... but I intend to keep the characters as close to how they are outside of their original talents as possible.

This AU also swaps the end twists between the 1st and 2nd games, and in some way keeps original relationships (like Makoto and Kyoko's partnership, and Souda's inclination towards Sonia). Some personality aspects are allowed to bloom or forced into hiding, depending on the upbringing I imagine would have been needed to allow these talents to shine within them and rise to Ultimate status.

ok Souda Headcanon Time:

The teeth are actually natural - he has a disorder which effects a number of things but especially effects his teeth, which are sharp as a result (something that evidently exists?? tho i forget the name, and it's not as perfect as drawn here ofc but.)

I think og-Souda would have a great skincare routine, one that Detective Souda lacks, since he never gained the motivation nor inspiration to care more about his appearance in front of others. So, he has some zits.

When he was very young, he was living with his father in their bike shop, but his dad went too far one night. A worried neighbor called authorities on them after witnessing his dad's aggression. At some point, the situation tips over, and Kazu's removed from his father's custody.

The detective investigating his father's abuse took care of him, and eventually adopted him after his dad was incarcerated. New Dad was not physically abusive, and genuinely cared for his new son, but due to his line of work he wound up kind of a sad sack of a person, so he's still a pretty cringefail/wetkitten father figure.

Kazuichi would accidentally stumble across his files around the house, and witnessed far more corpses than he likely should have as a child. Terrified at first, he eventually suppressed his fears in favor of trying to become a stronger person, and insisted on applying himself to learn his caretaker's line of work... inadvertently witnessing even more death and dying than he should have, from a young age.

As a young teen, he took interest in therapy and self care, and came to realize his trauma regarding his father and his guardian / upbringing. New Dad has his full love and respect and he tries to change for his son. This kind of expands Kazu's self-respect a little, while adding new depths to his hatred/fear of violence and conflict.

Due to his new caretaker, he never went to the same schools, and lost his original friends as a result - so he doesn't suffer from the same trust issues as OG-Souda, and as a result, easily clings to the people around him and allows himself to get lost in his head a tad more often than OG.

He specializes in forensic investigative work, because his brain is still wired better for calculations, spatial reasoning, and mathematical speculation.

He also still loves learning about how things work, and now, he's especially interested in how things have happened / come to be - finding satisfaction in analyzing evidence, instead of reverse-engineering parts/machines.

He even still has a mild interest in mechanics! But he is firmly convinced that being handy and technical is nothing to boast about.

He is also now convinced that he wouldn't make a good repairman/mechanic/engineer, anything of the sort. Part of this apprehension is due to his hatred of his father.

He is still pretty timid, and jumps easily at any sudden or loud noise, is afraid of the paranormal, gets upset easily when socializing, and feels terrified when there is any perceived threat.

However, death and dead bodies are some of the things that no longer frighten him. Upset, sure, but nothing like OG-Souda. He sees dead bodies as objects to investigate and solve, as opposed to feeling the horror of seeing a deceased fellow human, or feeling too overwhelmed if it's someone he knew. Because of this, it's easy for him to get lost in his work and feel totally disconnected while investigating.

#sdr2 #danganronpa #super danganronpa 2 #spoiler free #kazuichi souda #souda kazuichi #sprite edit #danganronpa sprite edit #talentswap #cyanidas #2024

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chevelleneech · 2 days

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Blocking every former and supposedly on the fence Buddie shipper who feels the need to tag Buddie on their posts where they claim to want Buddie to happen so badly or are in a dilemma about it going canon, because they’ve, “Seen the toxicity in the fandom and can’t take it anymore.”

Bullshit. They’re making up excuses to jump ship, when it’s really not necessary.

If you don’t want to ship Buddie, don’t ship them. It’s not against the law. It won’t get you excommunicated from the 911 fandom either, but it will make you look like a fool for acting like: 1) you didn’t know there were toxic fans in the fandom to begin with — as there are in all fandoms, or 2) there aren’t any toxic fans among the BuckTommy fandom.

You can’t claim to be tired of toxic Buddies for saying BT is bland or lack chemistry or LFJ is ugly or whatever else, when there are BT shippers saying the same exact things about Buddie and RG. Both sides have toxic fans, the only difference is that BT shippers currently have canon on their side, so those of you jumping ship are able to feel more validated in leaving.

Fans wanted Buck to be queer for nearly as long as the show has been out, and not once has anyone really shipped him with other people. Josh here and there, Connor occasionally, and that one prophet who wrote about him and Tommy. But majorly, it’s been Eddie. As such, toxic fans have been toxic when it came to any and every relationship either of them were in, so what makes Tommy any different? Did y’all really expect all the toxic fans to be happy with yet another love interest they weren’t looking forward to?

Not only that, but again, there are also toxic BT shippers, and fun fact! They didn’t pop up out of nowhere nor were they born out of defense of Buck and Tommy’s extremely new coupling.

I promise you, those same people were die hard Buddie shippers waiting with bated breath for Buck or Eddie to kiss each other or a man in general. They got it with Buck, so now they feel the need to belittle everything that came before in hopes that Tommy won’t be written out. They don’t care about character development or chemistry or Buck as an actual character either, proven by the many many posts across Tumblr, Twitter, and Tik Tok framing them as in love and smitten.

Claiming Eddie doesn’t mean anything to Buck. Claiming Tommy was a knight in shining armor. Claiming (and this is truly the fault of lazy writing and Tim and co trying to give themselves an out for under developing BT) Buck not talking about Tommy is a sign of happiness.

BT is sexual attraction first and foremost, and that’s all we know. Which is fine, I’ve said before, s8 will hopefully expand on them and their relationship if that’s the plan, but until then, there’s nothing there. Meaning there is nothing about the ship to defend the way some of their fans are doing, but somehow that’s more acceptable than Buddie fans defending Buddie? Sure.

Point is, if you’re jumping ship, go ahead. You don’t need to explain or more aptly worded, lie about why. Toxic fans exist on both sides. Most of you would just rather deal with the ones on the canon side of things, because it helps you feel better. Less embarrassed or anxious, maybe? I don’t know, because regardless of if Buddie ever goes canon, they’re not real, and there is no reason to feel anything if it turns out their shippers were wrong.

But I have to ask, what’s going to happen if BT does end? What will be the excuses for all the trash talking and belittlement of years worth of theories? What will y’all say to rectify putting one toxic group on a pedestal over the other? Because that’s what’s happening. BT shippers are being given full clearance to act like shit to people simply because their ship is canon, so what happens if that changes? What happens if Buddie does go canon? Where will all the high and mighty attitudes go?

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murfpersonalblog · 3 days

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IWTV S2 Ep3 - Random Musings (Spoilers)

This was the best S2 ep by far; they're just getting better & better. I have so much to say; I can't even keep up. This is just the random stuff I don't have AS MUCH to comment on (yet).

AMC, we GOTTA get some flashbacks of Papa DPDL. We know so much about Les' folks, but nothing about Lou's pops. :(

Not "Real Rashid" going bar for bar vs Sartre abt morality & evil!? 👏

"Wolf Wrangler," I hate this effing show so much, please stop it.

SANTIAGO BACKSTORY LFG; we're finally being fed!

Ohhhhh.... Francis "Santiago" Naughton, I see~! They're definitely leaning into the Sant-"iago" of it all from Othello--nice touch!

1921--Santiago's a BABY vampire. (And omg he loved Annika's "performance" so much that he incorporated it into his regular lineup! Sickos! XD) I saw the Siophmedia review call it the Mimic Gift, which I love--expanding the AR lore.

Thoughts & prayers to this dude, being stuck for all eternity as an old man; relegated to backstage work with the noob stuck for all eternity as a little girl. (Hilarious how this is in blatant violation/disregard of Marius & Rhosh's Great Law #2 about beauty.)

Vampires sneeze?! 😂 Estelle is the ONLY Theatre vamp I like, bless!

ROTFLMFAO. Humor on this show comes from the WILDEST of places; I love it.

Someone's saaaaaaltyyyyyy~! 👀👀👀👀

Welp, now we know where Louis'll spend "ETERNITY IN A BOX," when they drag him in that burlap sack.

Louis' a strong independent man don't need no coven! 😤👏 Especially not you WEIRDOS. Monsieur LDPDL would NEVER allow anyone to make him act like a clownish BUFFOON on some stage, or write/film creepshows everyone points and laughs at, are you crazy?

Louis said SKILL ISSUE. 💀

Don't act coy now! XD You go and OWN your bussypowers, Louis of Troy! ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

I am STUNNED this trash liar won a Pulitzer for investigative journalism. Truly a dying industry.

Armand, my love, you have no idea. 👀

Deflection & misdirection, as usual with these vamps.

SHADE.

Roget the "FIRST" eh?... 🧛🏼 This completely removes Nicki as the founder of the Theatre, but I guess it makes sense that Armand would be the one communicating with Roget, cuz lord knows Nicki wasn't "fit to pick an apple off a tree in his current state...." 👀👐 Louis, Armand's fed you a crock of lies; don't be fooled by his pretty doe eyes! You were SET UP, my guy; he was SICK of that coven for hundreds of years; WAY b4 Lestat AND YOU showed up!

Then he hangs Lestat's portrait on the wall as a shrine and says he's their co-founder, while breathing not a word about how Lestat gave the Theatre TO NICKI, NOT ARMAND. Where's Nicki at, Armand!? 👀👐 Where's Claudia at, Armand!? 👀☀️ Why do all of Lestat's fledglings go missing under YOUR supervision, Mr. I Could Not Prevent It? I swear, those 🥺👉👈 eyes are lethal weapons!

STUNT QUEEN. Behind every gay man is a gayer, more evil man!

And he took that PERSONALLY.

Siri, google when butt-plugs were first invented.

Armand's FACE! 😭 Yeah, Lou don't make a lick of sense sometimes. Thank god he's pretty! But for every ounce of pretty there's another TONNE of mental trauma. If I were Armand, I'd've cut my losses and left Lou's arse to "Bruce" right then & there. Now look at you!

Incredible episode. 👏

Preview for Ep4:

I hate it here. 😱

I'm sorry, but I simply CANNOT with Loumand, knowing what's coming. I never have, and at this rate I NEVER WILL! Armand, I don't care what weird dynamics you & Lou are always up to, but by putting your hands on MY daughter!? DISHONOR!

Armand, Louis is right: you just earned yourself a spot on my hit list.

I'll rant about Loumand specifically in a separate post--this ep was A LOT, omg I'm exhausted.

#interview with the vampire #iwtv season 2 spoilers #iwtv tvc metas #must see tv #the hype is real

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came-like-a-postcard · 2 days

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gone for you

(harry styles one shot)

ceo married (but like basically divorced) h x oc (Gwen Thatcher)

(if you are named gwen thatcher, i promise i literally just came up with a random name)

warnings: smut! (mdni pls i am begging) p-in-v, breeding kink (sorry not sorry i have a wee obsession with it atm), m masturbation, sex in a public place (nobody else is there), horribly written kissing (deserved a warning 🫡)

hopefully it's not ass!!

🫶, C

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Gwen Thatcher loved her job.

It was really only part-time, and the majority of it was secretary work. Nonetheless, it was a steady source of income as Gwen worked through school, earning her degree in finance. She’d always been one for numbers, and when Harry Styles – CEO of Pleasing Inc. – offered her a position in his top-ranked finance department post-graduation, who would she be to refuse?

At first, she would just do things like sorting mail, organizing documents, sometimes helping him review company finances. The job then grew to include accompanying Harry to corporate events, sitting in on rounds of interviews, even testing out the company’s products.

Then the job expanded more.

She was Harry’s dinner date since his wife, Enola, would cancel on him more often then not. She’d accompany him to the weddings of Styles family friends since Enola never wanted to go. She’d be there when he just needed someone to listen, someone who he could trust.

Gwen had become Harry’s greatest confidante. And then some.

It really was never meant to go that far.

—

On October 3rd at 10:52pm, Harry Styles was sitting on the leather couch in his office, trying to think about anything – anyone – but Gwen Thatcher.

A feat that was proving harder by the second.

The buzz of his phone alerted him that his wife was trying to get through to him.

Enola: Headed home soon?

The answer was supposed to be yes.

Harry stared at his phone for almost five minutes, hoping that he’d suddenly have some surge of motivation to type the three letter word.

It wasn’t happening.

Harry chucked his phone to the other side of the coach, letting his head fall back to rest on the coach’s back. He closed his eyes and let the fantasies of Gwen Thatcher that had overtaken his mind - riddled his day with distraction - take him away from reality.

Harry’s hand found its way to the zipper of his pants as he thought about the way that Gwen had brought him tea that morning, just the way he liked it. How she’d sat with him for thirty minutes while he told her about the musical his daughter wanted to try out for, how he’d stayed up way too late the night before helping her memorize a monologue.

He undid the button and slowly undid his pants zipper as he thought about the office safety meeting earlier that day. It was required yearly, and it was absolutely packed. When Gwen walked in, there were no seats left.

“My lap is available…” He joked.

Gwen rolled her eyes.

Nonetheless, she proceeded to sit on Harry’s lap.

“You’re sure you don’t mind?” She asked, almost impishly.

“No, not at all. As long as you’re fine with it.” Harry’d replied.

He’d spent the meeting focusing not on the updated safety regulations but working overtime to wish away a hard-on, forcing thoughts of sick puppies and world hunger rather then the image of bending Gwen over his desk, and fucking her - filling her with his cum over and over again until she couldn’t take it anymore, until there was no doubt she’d ever had a better orgasm.

The growing bulge in Harry’s pants only burned more as he pulled his briefs down enough for his large cock to spring loose, practically leaking at the tip just at the thought of Gwen Thatcher.

“Fuck.” He said, wrapping a hand around his wide girth, gather the pre-cum at the tip for lubricant, slowly massaging up and down his length.

Oh Gwen-”

—

“Fucking hell,” Gwen exclaimed.

She’d left her laptop at the office. She knew exactly where it was too. It was right on top of Harry’s desk. The desk she saw him behind every day. Every day, she saw him behind that desk, and dirty thoughts swarmed her mind.

She imagined him taking her, right there and then. Bending her over the desk, pulling up her skirt, and removing her panties before he’d give her everything he could. She yearned for marks everywhere and anywhere - the kind you’d have to hide and blush when people asked you about them. She yearned for his soft, plush lips to meet hers in a blaze of passion. Gwen wanted to feel him inside of her for days, feel the burn he’d certainly leave behind. She wanted to taste him, feel him fill her to the brim. She wanted him to give her all his babies- well… maybe. That part of the fantasy was a little more complicated.

Gwen turned around quickly, hurrying to get back to the office. The last train towards her neighborhood was scheduled to leave in twenty minutes, and if she missed it, she’d have to pay cab fare or spend the night at the office. Neither sounded preferable.

It took Gwen five minutes to get to the elevators, and she was steadily waiting for it to rise to her office floor. Soon enough, the doors slid open and Gwen barreled through, truly rushing to not miss her train.

Twenty feet from his office doors…

Fifteen…

“Fuck, Gwen-”

She stopped.

Was someone else here?

—

Harry’s hand moved efficiently up and down his length, a mixture of spit and pre-cum acting as lubricant. His mind was stuck on her.

The way she laughed at his jokes - like nothing was holding her back.

The way she’d compliment his outfits as if she knew which ones he put extra effort into picking in the morning.

The way she was everything he’d ever wanted, and exactly what he’d never had.

He moaned, letting her name slip into a string of curses.

“Fuckin’ hell, Gwen- What’ve you done to me…”

He was right there. He could feel it. His tip was red and swollen. Pleasure pulsing through his body, a high like none other.

Then the door opened.

—

Before her was Harry, one hand wrapped around his cock as the other groped his ballsack.

Fuck was he big.

His cock curved deliciously towards his abdomen. The deep red tip pulsed with each squeeze of his hand, his thumb caressing the sensitive tissue. Small spurts of cum escaped as he worked to find his orgasm. His chest heaved with heavy breaths. The top few buttons of his shirt were undone, offering hints of the detailed swallows he’d had done years prior. Gwen had seen them only once, at a company retreat when Harry wore a tank top under a blazer. His chest was a finely toned golden with tussles of thin hair, exactly what Gwen would call the ideal amount of chest hair. He had a golden chain around his neck that dipped under the silky material of his shirt. Oh, how she yearned to know what could be revealed if he’d only gone a few more buttons down.

Gwen felt like she was watching herself move in the third person as she entered the office and stood before Harry.

“Do you want me?” She asked, quietly.

She could see the way the veins of his cock throbbed, taut against the pink skin. His gorgeous member glistened in his pre-cum, acting like a lubricant for his hand.

“What are you doing here, Gwen? Shit, I thought everyone had left-” He started. Gwen moved forward, pressing her hand into his warm chest, and straddling his lap. Harry gasped at the sudden contact of her body against his. “I asked if you wanted me, Harry…”

“Fuckin’ hell, baby, ‘course I want you.” He said, slamming his lips into hers. His hands left his length and ran through her hair before grabbing her hips and pulling her closer to him.

Gwen grinded down on his cock, her panties absolutely soaked. Her tongue fought his arduously for dominance before she seceded to him. She moaned loadly against his lips as his teeth nipped against her bottom lip.

“Fuck, Harry, need to feel you!” She gasped. Harry nodded into the sloppy kiss. Her skirt had bunched up around her waist, and only the thin, wet barrier of her panties seperated them. He pulled away to look down and pull the wet material away from her dripping hole. Harry moaned at the sight, his head falling back in absolute disbelief at the sight before him.

“Do you have a condom? I haven’t got any on me.” He asked. Gwen shook her head. “Just take me Harry, I need you so bad.”

Harry grinned devilishly. “Want me raw, darling? Want me to pump my cum into you? What if I just get you pregnant, hm? What if I keep you on my cock forever, always round with my baby?”

Gwen cried out in pleasure, rubbing her folds against his bulbous cockhead. “Yes, yes!! Want your babies so bad, Harry!”

“Deep breath, Gwenny.” He murmured into her ear before lining up with her entrance and slamming up into her. Gwen lost her breath at the splitting rapture that coursed through her abdomen.

His length was fully sheathed in her tight hole. The curve of his cock hit her g-spot magnificently in a way Gwen never thought was possible. “Ohhh!!” She moaned, grinding hard into Harry’s pubis. The apex of his pelvis was hitting her clit perfectly. Harry began thrusting up into her, his hands on her hips and pulling her close to him.

Gwen suddenly brought her hands to the buttons of her blouse, quickly undoing the stretch and sliding the silky material off her torso. Underneath was a strapless lacy bra that held the most beautiful breasts Harry had ever seen. He groaned out at the absolute fantasy before him. Her buds were peaked and visible through the lace, areolas rosy in color and begging to be sucked on. He leaned forward to nip a trail through the valley of her breasts, his hands coming up to unclip the front clasp of the bra.

Fuck did Harry love a front clasped bra.

The lace fell away, and Harry dove in like a man starving. He captured each breast, squeezing and sucking like his life depended on it – leaving marks he was certain would be there for a while. This only edged Gwen on as she cried in ecstasy, using her thighs to lift herself up and down on his cock.

Her hand fell behind her to find his scrotum, tight to his body as he felt his orgasm nearing. Harry was trying so hard to keep it cool so he didn’t cum before her, but it was getting more difficult by the minute. Gwen’s hand began massaging his balls, which made it ten times harder.

“Fuck honey, just like that! Squeezing me so perfectly everywhere! Fucking pussy’s made for me, love.”

She whined out in response, “Just for you, Harry, always been for you!”

He was so close, and the way her pussy was pulsing around him told him she was right on the edge. Gwen cried loudly, and Harry could feel her absolutely soak his pelvis as she came hard. His own orgasm consumed him as ropes of cum shot into her pussy.

“God, I’m so fucking gone for you. I love you, Gwen, fuckin’ obsessed with everything about you.” He admitted solemnly.

Her expression faltered. Harry suddenly got overwhelmed with concern.

“Darling, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you like that. I haven’t felt this good in so long, I shouldn’t have-”

“I love you too.” She said, pulling his chin towards hers to guide his lips to her own. The kiss grew deeper as Gwen cupped his cheeks, Harry’s own hands slotting over hers to keep them there. His tongue explored her mouth, wild against hers.

“Been hard since you sat on my lap earlier. Could’ve taken you right there and then.” He mumbled. “You should’ve.” Gwen mumbled back. “Been dreaming about you taking me in the office for months. You treat me better then any boyfriend has ever, Harry.”

“Mm, think you need to be done with dating boys, baby. Need a real man to give you what you deserve. I could give you everything you’ll ever need and more, love.” He responded, interlacing his fingers with hers.

“What about Enola?” Gwen asked hesitantly.

“Gwenny, I’ve never felt for Enola the way I feel for you. My marriage is ending as it is, and it’s the first time in a long time that I’ve been satisfied by the choices Enola and I make together.”

“Fuck, Harry…I’m sorry…” She responded quietly. Harry kissed the corner of her lips, cupping her cheek. “Not your fault darling. You’ve done nothing but made me feel better. I wasn’t making it up, Gwen. I’m in love with you.

She smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“I am so in love with you, Harry Styles.”

—

“My full name is Harry Edward Styles. I live in the Maddox Square penthouse on the corner of 7th and Baum, and I am the plaintiff in this case. I married the defendant, Enola Jane Styles, on January 20, 2015 in Saratoga Springs, New York. I filed a complaint for divorce on September 12, 2023. I’d lived in New York County with the defendant since August of 2013. When I filed my complaint for divorce, all the statements were true. All the statements in my complaint for divorce are still true today. There has been a breakdown of the marriage relationship such that the objects of matrimony have been destroyed and there remains no reasonable likelihood that the marriage can be preserved. I do not believe there is any possibility of reconciliation. There are no minor children of this marriage. I have read all of the terms of the proposed Judgment of Divorce, and I agree with them. I ask that this court grant an absolute Judgment of Divorce. Thank you, your Honor.”

Gwen was proud of him. He’d filed officially a few days after they’d confessed their feelings. Once Harry and Enola had officially separated, Harry moved Gwen into his charming penthouse that overlooked the city. Enola, of course, was pissed, but soon let off the anger when Harry’s lawyer found damning evidence of an ongoing affair between Enola and Harry’s head accountant for the past three years. Long story short, Enola was kicked out, the accountant was fired, and Harry ended up getting a restraining order after Enola threatened Gwen in the company building.

“You’re just some whore he’s entertaining himself with. You’ll be tossed on your ass by the end of the week, bitch!” Enola yelled.

Gwen was shaking against the wall of the women’s bathroom. Enola had cornered her after she exited the stall. She was genuinely scared of what Enola might do to her.

Rampant footsteps raced outside the door and Harry burst into the scene, with his second-in-hand Niall following.

“Fucking hell, Enola, leave her alone!!!” He said, storming forward and pulling Gwen away from Enola’s touch.

“Did she hurt you, lovey?” He asked soothingly, his hand wrapped around hers. “I’m okay, baby.” She said with a comforting smile. “What about peanut?” He asked, his hand coming to rest over her abdomen, where a barely evident bump existed – the only external suggestion of Gwen’s condition.

“We’re together for eight years and you never even fuck me raw, but you’ve been with her for five months and she’s knocked up? What the hell Harry???” Enola angrily exclaimed.

“Enola, I owe you no explanation other than that Gwen is the woman I love, and she will be the woman I love til the day I die. Fuck off, and remove yourself from the premises please.”

Enola, clearly pissed, stormed out the bathroom, glaring knives at Gwen.

Harry had called the cops immediately. Within twenty-four hours, there was a highly effective restraining order in place against Enola, and Harry and Gwen got to learn the gender of their sweet peanut.

“I’m happy to let you know that you’ll be having a little boy, it looks like!”

Harry’s eyes glistened as he held Gwen's hand tightly. She herself was shedding tears at the sight of their beautiful little baby moving around softly in her womb. The way he kicked and reached and yawned and moved about his little space was the greatest thing she’d ever seen.

The whole settlement was able to be done over zoom. Enola still lived in the city with her accounting beau, but Harry wanted absolutely nothing to do with her, and was easily able to get a virtual hearing. A restraining order and a baby at home can really help with the process as well.

Speaking of the devil, Fitz Edward Styles stumbled into the room. The door had been meant to be closed, but it seemed that the sixteen-month-old had knowledge beyond his years, and easily decoded how to open the door.

Harry looked over his shoulder at the sound of tumbling steps. He caught wind of Fitz just in time to see the toddler trip on the corner of the carpet, bursting into a fit of tears. Harry didn’t even have time to stand up before Gwen burst into the room. She was nine months pregnant with their second child, but it didn’t stop her from moving gracefully over to Fitz and calming him down.

“Oh Fitzy, love! What’d Mama tell you about opening the office door? Daddy’s got his important meeting right now, we need to let him talk to the very important people. Why don’t we go get a snack, hmm?”

Between his little tears, Fitz nodded, gripping the material of Gwen’s shirt in a tightly balled fist while he sucked on his free thumb, his head nuzzled into Gwen’s neck.

“Sorry, H, I didn’t see him leave the playroom.” Gwen said softly, backing out of the room. Harry smiled and waved it off. “Nonsense, love. Fitz is gonna do whatever Fitz wants to do. I’m almost done here – wait for me to have lunch?”

Gwen smiled before leaning down to kiss her fiancé. “Of course, H.”

the end!

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

#harry styles #harry styles smut #why yes i am a novice fanfic writer #this could very well be ass im so sorry

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tyitri · 3 days

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Entangled Heart - Chapter 2

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley/Reader

Summary: The world had gone to hell a few years ago. No one cared about preserving other beings, endangered species. The crown of creation was quickly deemed a threat, and the hunters became the hunted.The world changed, we were no longer at the top of the food chain. The plants were.

They passive-aggressively spread, allowing a new plant species, called the 'Verdantia aurea' or Goldleaf Fern, to thrive. No one knew it was an invasive species. Other regional plants died, throwing the world out of balance. Many still remember the initial reports.It felt like the Seven Plagues of the End Times, written as if in the Bible.

You're part of that fucked ecosystem now together with a few survivors who made an oath to save humanity or at least whats left of it. One of them in particular doesn't seem to like you, everyone calls him Ghost. And you're pretty sure it's not because of the report when you were found nude, nestled between a bush of Goldleaf Fern itself by some Scientists.

Tags: Post Apocalyptic,Slowburn, No use of Y/N, Nicknames, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Mild Gore, Violence.

Wordcount: 2,7k

Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Your grip on the rifle tightened as you thought you saw things moving in the shadows of the houses. When you tried to alert Soap and nudged him gently, he started to chuckle.

"Chill out, Rookie. It's over. The thing is full for now, we won't have any more trouble. At least now we can check out the buildings. Its death wasn't entirely pointless."

Were you the only one who found this entire situation absurd? It was simply surreal—Soap's chuckling, Ghost's indifference, and Price's detachment.

"Who knows if it really hunts out of hunger," you mutter quietly, your gaze returning to the twitching movements in the darkness.

"Those are the roots of the main distributor," he explained. "Damn thing. No sign of the real one yet. We would have already turned it to ash." Soap must have followed your gaze because you couldn't take your eyes off the writhing, twisting roots.

"Main distributor?" Despite being trained by König in the US, who had given you a crash course on some techniques and updated your knowledge, you still had significant gaps.

"Damn, Gaz wasn't lying when he said the new recruit was from the moon," Soap said, touching his forehead and grinning. "Tell me at least you know that, absurdly, we’re fighting plants." His casual demeanor might have been a good distraction if someone from your team hadn't just become compost for this 'main distributor.'

"If I were from the moon, I definitely wouldn't have volunteered to be sent to this shithole," you mutter, loosening your grip on the rifle slightly. Your gaze flickers to Price and Ghost, who have moved a few meters away and seem to be quietly communicating. Soap stays by your side, likely to watch over you.

Soap grins at you and then starts to regain your attention. "Well, some scientists have discovered that there’s a main distributor that can spread more seeds and thus expand everywhere. So, everything you see here—by that, I mean plants that move—is just a single plant within a four-kilometer radius."

That makes you think. One single plant had so much power over such a large area. Humanity would really need to prepare to change its way of life. But when you looked at Ghost—and you did so rather obviously at that moment—you doubted that a new way of life would be for everyone. He had probably grown up with war and danger, but what did you know, and it shouldn't concern you.

"And it hasn't been found yet?" you respond thoughtfully. "How do we know that such a main distributor exists?"

Now he looks at you, puzzled, and you could almost hear the gears turning in his head.

"Well, some scientists said so," he replied hesitantly, "and these things don't attack us again after such a situation," he added confidently. You looked at him skeptically. "So, this has happened before?"

He cleared his throat for a moment, and it seemed you had touched on a somewhat uncomfortable point.

"Hey, Soap, Rookie, we're going through the alleys to secure everything!" Price called to you. They had already moved quite a distance away. Ghost also looked back at the two of you, staring at Soap for a while before looking at you, his expression darkening.

"Come on, Rookie," Soap said, and you nodded absently. You didn't understand why Ghost always looked at you with such cold contempt.

"What’s our Lieutenant's problem, anyway?" you asked Soap quietly, holding the masked man's gaze.

"Oh, Ghost? He's been through a lot."

That didn’t surprise you in the slightest. "Well, that much is clear," you replied, breaking eye contact as the whole group moved through the alley. You inspected the wall, noticing it was crumbling, with small vines creeping along the old graffiti and new life sprouting from it. As you reached out to touch the plants, Ghost growled a warning in front of you.

"If you do that, I'll shoot your hand off, I promise you."

Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked up at him. You knew you were the new one among them and hoped Ghost would be a bit nicer to you soon, but life here wasn't a wish-fulfillment story. It never was.

"Thanks for the information, but I'll pass on that unnecessary crap. These are just normal plants. The vegetables on our roof don’t attack us either!"

"Unnecessary crap, huh? You could have died instead of the other rookie, for all I care. Looked like a normal plant to me too," he grumbled, his voice gravelly.

Price intervened and pointed cautiously to a side entrance, changing the subject. "Our lock has been broken," he said, calmer than expected, nudging the remnants of the lock aside with his boot. The chain, still trying to cling to the piece of scrap, jingled a little.

"And what's the problem with it being broken?" You inspected the lock, noticing the peeling paint on its remnants. Soap stepped in to explain. "We lock almost every building in our area after we’ve checked it. Depending on the color of the lock, we know whether it’s a building with supplies or one with potential dangers," he explained. So far, Soap was the most helpful person in this group. Ghost seemed to keep an eye on the surroundings, but he was more critical than helpful. Price didn’t contribute much to the conversations, but he led the group.

"What about buildings without doors?" After all, the building where the rookie disappeared had no markings. "We place something in front of the door that corresponds to the color. If we can’t find anything, we use spray paint. Buildings without markings should be avoided," he said with a grin, as if he had read your thoughts. Soap couldn’t explain further because Price pushed the heavy door open with his right shoulder and disappeared into the darkness. Ghost followed him. Soap patted you twice on the shoulder before nudging you toward the door, and you took a step into the darkness.

"Don't worry, we'll only find supplies here," Soap said behind you as you hesitantly put one foot in front of the other. Only a few beams of moonlight penetrated through the boarded-up windows, and you scanned the shelves. Canned food, hygiene products, cigarettes, and some sugary drinks caught your eye, but almost everything else was empty.

"Shit, those bastards made off with a whole crate of cans," Ghost cursed from the next room. "Clothes too," added Price as he returned to the main room with Soap and you. You took in the information, but the rest of their conversation blended with the sounds of the night. Something else had caught your attention. You had to adjust to the darkness, but you quickly noticed a similar-looking vine apparently trying to creep toward the windows. You had a bad feeling about it, but something in your body urged you to follow it. You followed the vine and disappeared behind some empty shelves. You opened the door to another room, which seemed to be a bathroom.

A dusty sink, a toilet, and a bathtub with the curtain drawn. As you glanced at the floor, you saw more than just the one vine from before. Several small ones slithered from the bathtub toward the door. As you took a step toward the bathtub, you noticed an open box with some cans and stacked clothes. Wasn't that the missing clothing?

Cautiously, you pulled the curtain aside and saw a person huddled inside, wrapped in the tangled mesh of this fern. Startled, you took a step back and stumbled over the root winding its way out of the bathroom. You braced yourself for the impact on the dusty tile floor, but it never came. Instead, you were caught by something—or someone—standing like a bouncer behind you. Ghost. Your fingertips dug into his tactical vest, and you looked up in panic at his cool eyes, the only part of him that seemed to show any humanity. He held your gaze for a few more seconds before the bathtub with the corpse wrapped in plant material and the box of cans caught his attention.

"Supplies found!" he called into the hall behind him, pushing you aside to lift the crate. He walked past you as if nothing had happened, leaving you a bit unsettled.

You wanted to ask what they were going to do with the person in the bathtub, but the question became unnecessary when he stopped at the door and gestured wordlessly for you to get out of the room.

You cast one last glance at the corpse before running out of the room, and he slammed the door shut behind you.

"Price, Soap! We need an empty shelf here, the weeds are already coming out of the drains!"

It didn’t take long for the other team members to push one of the shelves in front of the door to block it. You were surprised they didn't try using chlorine or other chemicals. You could still see cleaning supplies on the shelves.

"Everyone, fill your backpacks. You can take a little something extra, just don't overdo it," Price said, his gaze lingering on you. You nodded almost imperceptibly and carefully made your way through the aisles. When you glanced over your shoulder, you saw Soap filling his bag greedily, grinning. The others were taking their time. You started filling your bag with small packages of rice.

Just as you reached for the next bag on the shelf, your fingers brushed against a leaf. You thought it might be fern. But there was no time for panic. An electrifying sensation surged through your body in seconds. Memories flooded through you—memories you had never had before. Children laughing and playing on a playground while you sat on a bench. Fragments of a relationship with a young woman flashed in your mind, memories of working in a warehouse, and finally, a memory of yourself, huddled in a bathtub, as roots and vines slithered toward you. You felt the fear and panic of this person, for these weren't your memories; they belonged to the dead man in the bathroom.

"Fern!"

Someone called out to you from a distance; everything seemed so surreal. It was as if reality and fantasy were blurring together, as if the countless sleepless nights and days were now taking their revenge.

"Goddammit, Fern!"

A strong yank backward snapped you out of the thoughts, out of the illusion that made you feel like you were that man. At first, you didn’t realize how heavily you were breathing. Only when reality caught up did you feel your lungs burning, as if you had run a marathon.

"Goddammit, Rookie! Answer when someone calls you," Soap hissed. You still seemed dazed, glancing around a bit disoriented as your eyes adjusted to the dim light.

Your head felt like it was full of cotton, and Soap's words sounded muffled. "I was lost in thought," you admitted hesitantly. "Sorry." Carefully, you stuffed another bag of rice into your backpack. You noticed your hand trembling. Soap noticed it too, but he said nothing, instead grabbing your collar and dragging you toward the exit where the others were, while you quickly slung your backpack over your shoulder and stumbled after him.

"Found the girl," Soap replied, a hint of annoyance in his voice. "You okay? You look like you're about to be sick," Price said, his tone partly indifferent. Ghost just stared at you with his intense gaze. Even when you parted your dry lips, hardly any words came out.

"I'm fine," you tried to respond firmly, pulling yourself away from Soap.

"I thought König was sending us his best recruit, not a dead weight," Ghost hissed before turning and heading back outside. Your eyebrows knitted together. Soap just sighed and glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. "I mean, Ghost isn't entirely wrong. Colonel König's training isn't exactly easy. Not sure how you managed it," he said casually, as if sprinkling salt into a freshly opened wound.

You pressed your lips together, nodded, and watched as Soap adjusted his pace to walk alongside Ghost. Now you stood next to Price, who also started moving slowly. Not wanting to be left behind in the store, you followed him and watched as he locked the door with a new lock and marked it with a colored dot.

"You seem a bit too clumsy, Rookie," Price said hesitantly as he started walking again, and you fell into step behind him.

"I haven't had much contact with plants, sir," you answered honestly and respectfully. The whole situation worried you a bit. Would they bench you or categorize you differently? You didn't know, and that uncertainty scared you. "But your file says otherwise, Fern," he replied with a certain emphasis, and your body tensed up. "I thought it was still in the US," you tried to lie or at least play dumb, considering how you had already acted today.

"Don't play dumb, Fern. I know where and under what circumstances you were found." Silence settled between the two of you before you both started moving again. You nodded quietly. "That's why König sent you to us so early. The base here might not stand for much longer. He said you could help us with that," Price admitted. You didn’t know what you could do. After all, you had no real idea what Price was talking about.

"I honestly don't know, sir," you replied firmly. Silence lingered between you. The topic was not closed, and the tension remained. Only the crunching of gravel scattered on the streets could be heard. Until Ghost stopped in front of you and raised his hand.

Before you stretched a building that creaked and crumbled. It almost looked as if one half would soon collapse inward, burying the street and the abandoned vehicles beneath it. A huge root seemed to be squeezing the building. If the situation were different, it would probably have been astonishing, if not a little aesthetic.

"We sneak through, over Checkpoint Charlie," Ghost said tersely as instruction, then made a hand gesture. The gesture would probably have sufficed for the other two, but you couldn't understand it. König didn't have enough time, or so he said to you. He taught you a lot, you learned quickly, and if you were being honest, you didn't know where it all came from. You barely did any sports, maybe just enough to stay fit, but still, you could anticipate, block, and even deliver blows. Even König was impressed that someone as small as you could withstand his blows and catch on so quickly.

Just as you snapped out of your trance, you saw Ghost crouching, darting across the street and staying covered. He pressed his back against the target, an overturned pickup truck. Now he looked at you, his ice-blue eyes focusing on you, and he made a head motion. That was the signal. You cast one last glance at the huge root winding around the building. Its movements had ceased, but that didn't stop you; on the contrary.

In a crouch, you sprinted across the street. Too late. The building was crushed by the root, and the debris and concrete walls fell onto the street, just as the root descended upon it. With a dive, you managed to find cover beside Ghost, behind the truck. However, the dust from the building, the shock of the fallen root, and the noise disoriented you. Ghost shouted something in your direction, but you could barely make it out until he brutally grabbed your shoulder, dragging you behind him, almost aimlessly trying to get off the street and orienting himself by other building walls.

Only one thing ran through your mind. You could have been dead. The stress tugged at your consciousness, but your adrenaline kept you running with Ghost until he pulled you into a building and pushed you down under the window, while he stood guard beside you. "...not far!" was the only thing you heard from your savior and lieutenant before you collapsed and the world enveloped you in blackness. You weren't prepared for such situations. And today, it seemed the team wasn't either.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #ghost cod #simon ghost x reader #alternative universe #apocalypse

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savagewildnerness · 3 days

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Slightly more complete thoughts on S2E3, No Pain…

Daniel’s list - he’s worried about his family… about their safety

Raglan James is so confusing. I don't know what to make of it...He seemed so David Talbot-esque... so will David be mixed between Raglan and Daniel? Or will he appear too? And if he is a character drawn from other characters, will he have Raglan’s malice… because it certainly wasn’t evident in this episode…. In TTOTBT there is a clear aura of bad intent with Raglan and I didn’t feel that here

I thought the children of darkness set up was really effective. Assad as Armand in this era was so great - jaded, depressed, hopeless. In fact, I thought Assad was brilliant in the whole episode

Harlequin Lestat was so beautiful, and so elegant for an (Auguste!) clown! But there as also a layer of triteness to the character and to Lestat’s view of acting it seemed that unnerved me. Armand told it like Lestat was naturally charming, but acted only as he liked the attention. That’s NOT Lestat’s motivation. And the comic nature of the character slightly undermined for me even Armand’s response to Lestat. And I loved Armand’s covetous desirous looks to Lestat…. But you don’t need Lestat as a Harlequin displaying his bum, as if to Armand to make your point…. Though I enjoyed that at least they made it clear Lestat refused Armand (even if only at first from Armand’s telling…)

It’s the episode Lestat has so far been in the most, yet is also the first episode where no scene with him in made me cry... (Bad times in my life currently, admittedly)

I loved the use of French, but I found it frustrating how little of the French was subtitled. I want to know what people are saying! I was not lucky enough to ever have been taught even a word of French in school so I have literally zero clue. Like, *he whispers in French*... WHAT do they whisper?! That is NOT ENOUGH INFORMATION FOR ME!!!! Can anyone help with the French text that wasn’t translated at all?

Although the bit in the theatre, I suppose having Lestat perform in French as Harlequin, but the mind-conversation take place in English made that clear… but I want to know the French text too!

I feel very weird and sad about Lestat meeting Nicolas when he's already a vampire (I know this is only Armand's telling, but I feel this fact will surely remain, due to Joseph's Nicki not looking like he could be the same age as Lestat… I suppose it is possible Lestat could still meet Nicolas as a mortal, but I don’t see any way Lestat can meet Nicki back in his home town) - I can only see it hugely lessening Nicolas' impact... but I guess maybe they want that for TV..? My expectations shift for TVL there though as I thought they’d go big with the Nicolas and Louis parallels to add to the poignancy of those two relationships. Instead, the parallel that was made by Armand was that both Nicolas and Claudia were not built for immortality….?

To expand on that - The Witches Place… if Lestat and Nicolas didn’t know each other as children what happens with that SUCH IMPORTANT element… perhaps Lestat will have been married for a while in his hometown in the TV show or something and there’ll be another character to get some of Nicki’s story… but it takes poignancy away from Nicolas and away from Louis in my opinion. It also takes poignancy away from the wolf killer red cape which Lestat is wearing. But Nicki is Lestat's first true love, the first person he converses with who he feels understands him and Lestat is snatched away from their shared bed in their shared abode by Magnus.... if Lestat doesn't meet Nicolas till he is 34 and already a vampire, that is SO different… in many more ways than I have included here...

But I liked Joseph as Nicki, and joy of joy, the snippets of violin playing were convincing enough for me. I was really worried about it, but nothing bothered me, albeit they obviously were very brief.

The Lestat Armand told us was far from the Lestat I know in most respects though. Lestat suggesting killing mortals on stage?! Lestat being romantic with Armand at all? Doing it in front of Nicki? Even Harlequin-Lestat... the behind-curtain slaughter and the non-Lelio-ness of it... It’s just overwhelming how un-Lestat the whole thing is, making it hard to know what to feel. It’s not like I hated or was sad by anything much other than Nicki… and I liked Nicki and enjoyed how he and Lestat were together… it’s more the implications of that Nicolas may be relegated to way more of a minor character…. With the amount Nicolas means to me, that makes me so sad (Don’t get me wrong: Loustat is endgame… I am not AT ALL a Nickistat is better than Loustat because absolutely NOT - I love Nicki for himself and for his impact on the formation and formative and mortal years of Lestat’s life!)

It's just different, of course, but it’s so much to take in…

I would have enjoyed Lestat in the coven except that the first time I saw that promo image I thought Lestat was holding a leg of meat on a platter and that it's Jesus on the cross just makes it all inappropriately hilarious to me now.

I know Lestat was trying to hide from Armand how concerned he was about Nicki, but I felt underlying feelings in similar scenes in S1 and I didn’t feel even underlying concern to the degree I expected here… just because it is Armand’s telling?

Also, Armand - you did NOT want your coven destroyed!

It’s hard to watch Armand’s fanfic simply because it is SO different that at some point all the differences feel like you’d need to literally retell the entire show!? I just didn’t feel much of *hidden real Lestat* from these scenes, the way I *could* often feel in Louis’ telling. But then, I suppose Louis is not intentionally lying, so it makes sense we’d feel more of the real Lestat than from Armand, who *is* intentionally telling a somewhat false version…????

BUT Assad is so good. And may I say at this point, I love how Assad, Jacob and Sam are all brilliant at conjuring convincing chemistry with each other. NOW ALL KISS TOGETHER AND I SHALL FORGIVE THE BOOK DISCREPANCIES hahahaha… I jest!

I felt so sad and sorry for Claudia, little flea :(. Seeking belonging, only to be so tragically disappointed. The way she imagines herself in Santiago’s role, but instead has to act a child for eternity - how horrific.

I'm also so aware of how in the book, Claudia immediately senses the danger she is in from the coven and from Armand and here it is so very different. I don't know what to make of it. Louis also seems to be considering leaving Claudia already anyway too, so his role in what happens feels a lot different too…

The wet room… Is Lestat locked up in there somewhere now? In a burial vault? Down with the rats and dead bodies? The fact that we’ve been shown the cellar seems to suggest Lestat could be there somewhere, but I don’t know with the book changes whether Armand will lock Lestat up in the way he does in the books? I feel all a bit at sea and like I am an idiot to expect to see book plot or book motivations in a way…???

LOL when Daniel is just distracted and kinda disinterested in hearing about Loumand!

I did LOVE where they went with the Louis-Dreamstat - kill me again and show me you love me the only way you know how though, MMMMM! And the reveal of what Louis did to the mortal. I think this was my favourite part of the episode in fact??

I wonder whether this could hint at anything to be revealed about S1E5 at all???

Tortured Jacob-Louis is fabulous in this episode

Did Armand *really* ever consider killing Louis??!?!?!

I felt a bit sad I’d seen so much of Harlequin Lestat and dreamStat in trailers… I think it took away some of the impact in the episode.

It’s NOT that I disliked the episode… I thought the acting was brilliant and I really felt for Claudia in particular… but I also felt weirdly ambivalent. Aside from Claudia’s scenes and the Dreamstat Louis-violence scene, I wasn’t sure what I felt about a lot of it… weird… I felt kind of weird about it I would say….

#interview with the vampire #anne rice #amc interview with the vampire #iwtv amc #amc iwtv #lestat de lioncourt #louis de pointe du lac #armand le russe #claudia de pointe du lac #claudia de lioncourt #iwtv spoilers #iwtv s2e3

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thefallenangelsgang · 3 days

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BALDUR'S GATE 3 x MAMMA MIA! AU

CHARACTERS

[YOU HAVE PERMISSION TO USE MY IDEA FOR ANYTHING YOU WANT, I ONLY ASK YOU CREDIT ME]

(break to save your dash)

Now, not every character is going to fit cleanly into character slots (there are too many characters to fill the main cast) so some of our Baldur's Gate loves will be sharing character traits and plot devices amongst each other.

Let’s start with Donna: She will be played by Tav obviously. I mean there really is no other choice here. We need someone who has gotten romantically entangled with multiple if not all the companions. The one unfortunate snag is that Tav has to carry or otherwise create the child of dubious parentage without the other parent knowing. That does pigeonhole the characterization a bit unless you want to go the magic route with it (which opens a line of ethical questioning beyond not telling the Parent of your child about the existence of said child)

For the purposes of this thought experiment, I'm operating under Tav being AFAB and having a womb to carry the baby. I’m also operating under the idea that all the companions have the reproductive organs of the gender they present as in game. If anyone wants to actually do something with this they are free to do whatever the fuck they want and use whatever headcanons they want.

Sophie is going to be played by Tav’s kid. This one doesn’t have a hard and fast gender rule (TIL Sophus is the masculine version of Sophie) but they have to want to know who their other sire is and be generally chaotic which is not hard when they’ve grown up with the Tadfools as their role models. It is important that they display mostly Tav’s traits with others that could be any one of their other parent’s. (think Amanda Siefried and Meryl Streep are both blonde and similarly built. Sophie draws like Sam and sings and plays like Harry and has Bill’s adventurous spunk)

For ease of writing Tav’s Kid will be referred to as Soph from here on out.

Speaking of Sires, the Dads:

Sam: I waffled a LOT on who to choose out of the Baldur’s Boys because I wanted to keep it to just the traditional three and to just companions. You can obviously shuffle around people (I'm sure the Rolan girlies (gender neutral) would love putting him in this AU) and expand the possible dad list (though I don’t know how to split the characteristics like the Donna’s Friends). I chose to go with Gale here. I think he fits the very no nonsense and very anxious vibes from Sam in the show/movie. Instead of a business person who “went home to get married” perhaps Gale got called upon by Mystra as her Chosen and left to focus on his Wizardry. He is definitely the kind to break Tav’s heart over duty and be so ashamed he doesn’t really speak to them for 20 years.

Bill: This one was damn near a no brainer once I was considering it. It’s Halsin. Who better to be the Hippie, fun-loving, sex god and travel writer? He retains all his Baldur’s Gate characteristics. His experience with Tav is truly just a bit of fun before they both go their separate ways. Their relationship is HEAPS less frigid than Gale and Tav’s.

Now this is where you can go two ways with this. You could give Halsin is canon good ending (Reithwin with the kids) BUT we miss Bill being scared shitless at the prospect of having a child which I always loved as a characterization (Skarsgard plays it like a champ in the film, he looks like he’s gonna have a heart attack lmao). I feel like Clan Dad Halsin after 20 years is way too open to the idea of having something permanent like a kid. Wandering Arch Druid Halsin might be a little more scared shitless at the idea. That one is a personal preference, I think I’d prefer Reithwin Halsin even though I miss the majesty of an internal conflict.

Harry: Now this one also was a no-brainer but needs to be explained with some tact. It’s Astarion. It is not because Astarion is the most effeminate of the group. For those that don’t know, Harry is canonically gay. The companions are all pan. I chose Astarion because there is an opportunity to do something else transformative with Astarion and Tav’s tryst.

In Mamma Mia, Harry talks about how Donna is the last and only woman he’s loved and their time together helped him accept his sexuality. In the stage show he’s in a committed relationship (his partner's name is fully escaping me atm). It always stuck out to me that Donna changed Harry and that’s why he still loves her after all these years. Sam obviously regrets leaving to do what was expected of him because he didn’t love his first wife. Bill sees the life of adventure and companionship he could have had with Donna but acknowledges that that time is behind them and still loves her anyways. And Harry loves that Donna made him see himself clearly for the first time in his life and loves her for it. You can see why Astarion came to mind I hope.

Astarion’s night with Tav was him figuring out what intimacy meant to him after finally closing the Cazador Chapter of his life. The encounter was brief but it changed him for the better and allowed him to start healing.

EDIT: I realized I didn’t cover Astarion’s Vampirism at all. For story purposes assume he has some kind of temporary solution to the sun issue because I need his ass to be present when this is set on a fantasy Greek island. The Dhampir issue is… something. I sludged through some further thought experiments. Tav and the kid being Tieflings hides the fang coloration issue. Explaining away that the characteristics haven’t presented yet because the kid is still quite young by nearly all standards (20 is just barely of age for humans, and though they are full grown biologically they are still children in Elven society) and also have been largely sheltered from danger their whole life also works.

But to be honest, despite what the second movie and its director want you to believe, I think Harry is the least likely father of the three. I am comfortable extending this to Astarion.

Okay now we are into the Dynamos! Fuck yes! Rosie and Tanya are my favorites (it helps that they are PERFECTLY casted in the movie oh my god). I have split their characteristics across the girls. There are some of the companions that are obviously one or the other (Karlach is the most Rosie coded while Minthara SCREAMS Tanya) while others send mixed signals (Shadowheart is the most even, skewing towards Tanya slightly while Lae’zel has Tanya’s bitchy attitude and Rosie’s “lone wolf” outlook) SO I’m going to make a chart

Like Astarion, for story purposes, assume Karlach’s heart issue has been solved.

Graphic design is my passion

ANYWAYS you may have noticed three of our friends are missing from this line up. Our intrepid Folk Hero Formally Known As The Blade of Frontiers, Wyll, Pack Mother, Jaheria, and her trusty ride or die Rashamen, Minsc (and don’t forget Boo!).

I had some trouble with these nerds because initially I was playing with making Wyll the second half of Sam, he would have usurped the businessman and maybe the gone home to get married bit while Gale was the heartbreaker and took something from Bill’s characterization, but I was having trouble with losing character motivations. Plus Wyll is canonically not the type for flings. So I am having him be a good family friend invited to the wedding but not involved in the parentage. He essentially is a more involved part of the Greek Chorus. He could take Sam entirely if you are not the type for Gale but you will see why I did this when I get into the songs (yes I am that fucking insane about this.)

Jaheira does have the countenance to be a Dynamo BUT there is this minor character that I think about way too often that I wanted her to take. She is only mentioned in the first movie and the stage show in one line and seen a little in the second movie (which is a fever dream and convolutes the “lore” but I love it anyways). It’s Bill’s Great Aunt Sophia that left Donna the money to start Villa Donna. OBVIOUSLY she isn’t directly going to be playing Halsin’s Great Aunt or be dead (though she will be ancient by then) but she’s going to fill the mentor role for Tav and help out with Soph. She is the only one who knows that Gale Halsin and Astarion are the possible fathers until the beginning of the shenanigans.

Minsc, like Wyll, doesn’t have a direct parallel. He is also a part of the more involved Greek Chorus. He is Soph’s crazy uncle. He got them into all kinds of trouble and still does to this day. He gives a less emotional and personal version of Sam’s “are you sure you want to do this, you are so young” speech that essentially is offering to run off and be warriors (His plan does not get them away from anyone, he’s unanimously elected that the entire tadfool group is coming with them). But he does it after Gale gives the original speech that severely upsets Soph so it serves as a cheer up speech (“Minsc is unsure if the Wizard should come along seeing as he has upset the little warrior so, but Boo says he is very useful and Minsc agrees. So he can come with, but he does not get to pet Boo’s furry little bottom!”).

The rest of our Greek Chorus and people like Sky and Sophie’s Friends are filled out by various NPCs. Pepper is played by Mol. Ali and Lisa are open to OCs to be honest but the idea of Yenna and Arabella hearing the saucy details of a story they were partly involved in is really funny to me so they are listed in the song list as the backup singers. Sky is an OC because I wasn’t fully comfortable using any of the child NPCs. He’s referred to as Soph’s partner.

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strawberry-crocodile · 1 day

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og d20 anon backkk <3 yes to other d20 anon i think that part of the issue with this season as well was the way it built upon seasons before it especially irt the retributive violence bit w bullies. while we definitely had some of the retributive violence going on with penelope everpetal and dayne in season 1 (two bullies who were killed), even then we had some of the "wow bullies can grow beyond that especially since they're teenagers" with ragh, and then that was further expanded with aelwyn (adaine's older sister; adaine is an abuse victim via her parents, and aelwyn occasionally participated but was also an abuse victim herself and was being manipulated by her parents and was tortured at one point) getting explored and redeemed in sophomore year. which makes a viewer go oh, we're going to expand on these themes, we've established that we should look closer at these children because we have set up that frequently when an antagonist is a fellow child, it's more complicated than that! but then. No.

and also later there was an interview BLeeM did where it was kind of heavily implied that no one was supposed to read that much into the rat grinders and that it was a commentary on milestone and xp grinding???? which is like. okay but. What? How is that narratively interesting? and you DONT NEED TO DO MILESTONE OR XP GRINDING you don't need to do levels at all it's just DUMB LOOK BEYOND DND.

like, try blades in the dark. try thirsty sword lesbians. try burning hearts forever. try spine of eternity (i have to plug eva terra's works on itch, they're very fun). try lancer, try pathfinder, try call of cthulhu, try vampire the masquerade or world of darkness games. some of these have flaws, absolutely, but a lot of them do a great job at telling the kind of stories they're meant for and are specialized in that way, vs d&d which is okay at telling stories but never really GREAT or SPECIALIZED the way other systems are.

and i understand why a lot of small actual play groups use d&d instead of other systems because of the viewership issue. but like, d20 is so big that i feel like it can overcome that issue- and not only that but give a lot of love to indie publishers in the genre, who are so overshadowed by hasbro! instead they just keep trucking along with this system even when it handicaps them. GAH. it's annoying sorry for ranting but this is just something that's very near to my heart bc one of my friends is an indie tabletop dev.

there there, let it out. this is a safe place.

#blogodie #anti 5e action

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wildflowercryptid · 11 months

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the hoenn quartet are so season coded.... may is spring, lisia is summer, wally is fall, and brendan is winter....

#i'm posting this while shifting into sleepy mode...#i was originally gonna say lisia is winter coded while brendan is summer coded #but brendan's japanese name is literally yuuki #which i know is supposed to come from the japanese word for bravey but i feel like it could also be meant to evoke snow and winter #to go along with may's japanese name having a spring theme #* edit : apparently both their names can translate into distant so there's a parallel there too #idk just some random thoughts #i need to expand on this in some way i need to #i adore seasonal themeing in characters...#okay i gotta go to sleep now...#mj.txt

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landwriter · 21 days

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Hi! I hope you feel better soon!

This is a great prompt by @academicblorbo about Hob Gadling being the landlord of the Dead Boys. It has a wonderful fill already by @omgcinnamoncakes but I’d love to see what you come up with for it!

Alternative prompt from me if that doesn’t work for your brain: remember the date between Jenny and Maxine? How about one between Jenny and Esther? Poor Jenny is going to really question her taste in beautiful blonde women 😭

Thank you! I saw ‘landlord’ and ‘decades’ and blacked out. I love Hob having them as tenants. Maybe even before the modern day meeting in Sandman.

The Sandman/Dead Boy Detectives, 2.4k, G Dream/Hob, pre-slash, alternating/outsider POV, found family, a reunion and revelations etc.

---

Hob did not, strictly speaking, have tenants. It was more of a minor haunting. Pun intended.

The small room above the pub and below his flat wasn’t worth charging anyone rent for; when he first bought the building he had put a handsome oak desk in there and some bookshelves before wondering who he was possibly keeping up appearances for. Who was he going to take back upstairs that would stop and say, Wait, can I see your office? So he’d left it as more or less an abandoned room.

When he realized a pair of boys were using it as their clubhouse, he didn’t do anything at first. He saw them quietly coming and going a couple times, disappearing around the corner of the first landing. Brazen things. He meant to call after them, but the shout had died in his throat. He’d been young once. He still remembered the need to get away from it all. It was only when he went to check if they’d been making a mess of the room that he discovered it was still locked.

He’d crouched down and inspected the latch and found no marks at all. Huh, he’d said, and jiggled it again, and been a little more interested in whatever clever way they were getting into it after they disappeared up his stairs. Then he didn’t see them for weeks, and assumed they had gotten bored and stopped.

Until they came back. In the middle of an argument, striding through the pub like they owned it. Hob straightened up as they passed him.

“I cannot believe you broke the mirror.”

“I was in a rush! It’s not my fault you forgot you needed Arcana Incantatum after we arrived at the church. And found the demon.”

“I hardly forgot, I only made the mistake of assuming you would know to pack it by now.”

Hob raised his eyebrows. The boys disappeared into the back hallway. He followed them as they went upstairs, too preoccupied with their drama to notice Hob. They turned onto the landing, still carrying on. Even as they walked through the door. The locked, closed door.

Hob blinked. Then he drew his keys from his pocket and opened the door. The boys were still inside. One of them was pulling a mirror out of a backpack that was several times too small for it. They didn’t even look up, and Hob wondered how he couldn’t possibly have put it together earlier. He cleared his throat.

“Hello, boys.” That caught their attention. Hob grinned. “Seems we’re neighbours.”

---

Edwin abhorred getting involved with the living. He and Charles got along perfectly well on their own. They were a duo. An intrepid pair. Best mates, like Charles often stressed whenever he was about to ask something particularly ridiculous of Edwin. They were solid together. As solid as two ghost boys could be. The living, though, were messy and unpredictable.

Perhaps the most salient fact at present: Charles invariably became attached to them.

“He’s sad, mate. I can see it in his eyes.”

“You said those exact words in ‘94 about a dog. At least ask Hob himself.”

Before you decide to adopt him too.

Hob Gadling, irritatingly, was unobjectionable on every ground Edwin could think of. He had made no imposition upon them. When he found them, he only asked them their business, and then told them he was usually downstairs, or upstairs, if they needed anything they couldn’t procure themselves. He had an interest in rare and old books, as it happened. In explaining this, he had also hinted at being far older than his looks would suggest, which vexed Edwin twice over. He knew his curiosity would not be slaked until he talked to Hob, but then he would be the one getting involved with the living, and Charles would hardly let him forget it.

“Do you think he’s really immortal? Mate’s far too calm. Last week I saw him stop a fight downstairs by stepping right between these huge blokes. He just said something and smiled and they backed right off.” Charles lit up. “Do you reckon he’d teach me how to do that? Conflict de-escalation, innit? I could show him some moves with the cricket bat, I bet. Oh, do you think he’s a cricket fan?”

It was obviously a hopeless case, and since the Dead Boy Detectives never took on hopeless cases, there was only one course of action that remained. Edwin had long since disabused himself of the notion he needed to breathe. He had no beating heart, yet when he was startled, he would find himself clutching his chest. Now, he exhaled slowly through his nose in an entirely superfluous sigh of resignation. “Well, Charles, shall we go talk to him?”

---

When the millennium came around, Hob found himself celebrating it with his accidental tenants. There was something gloriously satisfying about being able to make a toast to the next one and have it taken seriously. He’d asked them if they had something better to do - spectral trouble to get into et cetera - and they both looked at him with almost identical put-upon and incredulous expressions.

Hob had a terrible suspicion they thought they were taking care of him as much as he thought he was taking care of them.

Edwin, with his insatiable curiosity and, deep underneath it, something Hob thought he recognized from himself: a sharp animal ferocity and a refusal to go until he’s good and done, natural laws be damned. Charles, still brightly, painfully alive for a ghost - who should be alive still, by all rights, but nothing of this life was fair - who joked to cover up hurt in a way Hob knew too, and glowed any time Hob turned so much as a kind word to him.

He wondered what they saw when they looked at him.

The year ticked over, and technology kept working. Charles grinned innocently and said he could probably possess the telly and break it that way if Hob wanted?

Hob’s heart twinged. He knew they weren’t his, not to keep, but it seemed that teenagers didn’t change at all over the centuries, even if the boys were only sort of teenagers in the way Hob was only sort of in his thirties. It didn’t change that they’d been punted from the mortal coil before having a chance to grow up, and figure out the kind of men they were, and make their own choices and fuck up and try to be better than their fathers, and everything everyone deserved. Hob had made more than his share of mistakes. They hadn’t been given the chance to make nearly any at all.

So they made toasts to the new millennium, to the detective agency, to themselves, all stuck out of time in different ways and refusing to move on for different reasons, and Hob allowed himself to think of Robyn and privately pretend that they were his all the same.

---

A week later, Hob was reminded of the other universal traits of teenagers when he mentioned his stranger and both boys began to grill him with terrifying alacrity. Before turning to his dating life, like ravening bloody wolves. When Edwin had asked, in a specifically nineteenth century manner that Hob remembered all too well, if Hob had always been unmarried, he’d nearly put his head in his hands.

“It can be hard for me to associate with the living too, you know. For obvious reasons.”

Charles had turned to Edwin and hissed “See? I told you.”

Right in front of him. Nobody had taught them manners.

“Manners, Charles,” replied Edwin loftily. “We will, of course, respect your privacy. A man is entitled to his secrets.”

“You’ll go upstairs and rifle through my personal things, is what you’ll do,” said Hob.

Charles coughed to hide his laugh. Edwin flushed and looked away. Hob snorted, and told them about Eleanor and Robyn. Properly. It was a strange relief. He’d told the story wrong for plausibility’s sake so many times he had been worried he’d forget the truth of it one day.

They had listened, and been remarkably quiet until Charles piped up and offered to set him up with a ‘really fit’ ghost. Hob had roundly shut that down. Woefully, not all explanations were satisfying enough. Charles cornered him again the next morning while he was cleaning the bar.

“No, mate, I still don’t get it.” Hob was about to say he no more wanted to be with someone who couldn’t feel pleasure from his touch than someone who would grow old and be taken from him while he stayed the same, when Charles went on, bafflingly, to ask, “Why don’t you meet your mysterious friend more often than once a century?”

Hob sighed. “Adults are often busy, Charles.” Nevermind that he had begun to wonder the same since the eighteenth century. He’d always just assumed time passed differently for his stranger.

Charles just laughed and perched himself on the bar top. “Ooh, low blow. We’re busy too, you know. Plenty of cases to solve.”

“Really,” said Hob. “You’re busy. Right now.”

Charles waggled his eyebrows.

“Charles, I am not a case,” said Hob, sternly as possible. “I’m not even a ghost. He’s not a ghost. No ghosts.”

“We could investigate. Maybe ghosts are involved. What even is he? Why every hundred years? Is it some sort of Persephone situation?”

Hob bit his lip against shouting I don’t know! I don’t know anything about him! Instead, he tried to smile, and felt it come out as a wince instead. “He’s very private.”

Charles scowled. “Yeah, obviously. You don’t even know his name. He can’t be that good of a friend if he’s too busy to see you more than once a century.”

Hob couldn’t see the expression on his own face, but he saw Charles’ shocked reaction well enough. It was so long ago for him, and still Hob knew at once what Charles saw now: that first time you manage to visibly hurt a grown-up’s feelings, people who seemed too old and too stern to actually feel pain, when you’d been going around kicking at them like a new foal, just to stretch your legs.

“Sorry,” said Charles, instant regret chasing his surprise. He was a good kid.

“It’s alright,” said Hob. He meant it. He looked down at the shining bartop. His hands were restless with the urge to light a cigarette. He gave in. It wasn’t like Charles would be dying of lung cancer any time soon if he decided to follow Hob’s example. “I don’t think he would say he’s very good at being a friend either. Truth is, I’d love to see him more often. But we had an awful fight the last time we met. If he forgives me, I’ll have to ask.”

“Mates always make up,” said Charles earnestly. He was such a good kid.

“I suppose they do.” Charles still looked sorry, and Hob clapped him on the shoulder. “Hey. Thanks for looking out for me, Charles.”

Charles beamed at him. “Always. We’ve got your back, me and Edwin.”

---

Charles couldn’t bloody believe it. Hob’s friend was here. There was nobody else it could be. He and Edwin were watching from a nearby table, pretending to be absorbed in their own conversation. Neither man noticed them. They were too busy looking at each other.

He couldn’t imagine spending more than a century apart from Edwin. The way Hob had talked about him and his stranger over the years, it sometimes seemed like they were best mates too, no matter how little they saw each other. He was dead sure that’s what had Hob looking so gutted when he thought nobody was looking. He had known they would make up, though. Maybe now Hob would be happier.

“Charles, we really ought not eavesdrop,” hissed Edwin. Right as he scooted his chair closer, the cheeky hypocrite. Hob and his friend were talking too quietly to properly hear, their heads bent together. Lots to catch up on, Charles reckoned. A hundred years. He couldn’t stop thinking about the number. It seemed impossible. Funny, he couldn’t imagine that long away from Edwin, but he could imagine spending that long being best mates. There was nobody he’d rather hide from Death with.

Hob’s face was doing something strange as his long-lost friend talked. Then Hob moved and grasped him by the shoulders, so tight that his knuckles stood out in relief. The man said something in low tones and Hob shook his head, and then pulled him in for a hug. The man stiffened and then relaxed, and his arms came up around Hob’s.

Their cheeks both looked wet.

Charles swallowed and it felt suddenly a little like he was choking. He should look away, only he couldn’t.

“They must be great friends,” said Edwin softly.

“Yeah,” he managed to croak. We won’t ever need to have a reunion like this because I’m never going to lose you, mate. I won’t let them take you. It was stuck behind the phantom lump in his phantom throat. His hand, without him telling it to, reached out and grabbed hold of Edwin’s. Edwin squeezed it hard, and Charles knew he didn’t have to make his voice work after all.

Then the man pushed Hob away, but only far enough to grab his face and pull him back again, thumbing over Hob’s cheeks, and beside him, Edwin honest-to-god gasped, and then Charles momentarily forgot how thoughts worked too.

---

It happens thus: in the New Inn, just next door to the White Horse, some 639 years after they first met, Hob Gadling and Dream of the Endless share their first kiss. Neither, if they had bothered to think about it, would have intended to have an audience, but it’s a well-known fact that some kisses cannot wait, and theirs was chief among them, being that it had so much to say, and was so very long overdue.

I missed you, it said, and I came back, it said, and Please don’t go away from me again, and I could not.

And atop them, like blankets, were laid invisible the daydreams of those who saw them, including two long-dead boys, whose dreams were woven from the fresh and unaccounted-for possibilities of Hob kissing his mysterious stranger. Another man, thought Edwin. His best friend, thought Charles. Dream was the only one who could have heeded this, but he did not, because Hob Gadling was holding him tight and daydreaming loudly of this kiss and more, of this today and tonight and tomorrow, ever greedy and ever easily pleased, and Dream could hear nothing at all over their clamouring and comingled joy; the bright gold daydream between the scant space of their bodies that sounded so much like at last.

#asks #the sandman #dead boy detectives #fic #crossover? fusion? i guess? who is to say! not me!#dreamling #perhaps some notes of chedwin #(a fabulous ship name btw. i may not get cob but i WILL get chedwin)#author wrote this while sick as dog so please excuse errors :')#might put on ao3 later if i have a chance to clean it up and expand on it a little!#my writing #me yesterday: 'i really don't see the appeal of blending both stories beyond doing it for the sake of it'#me today: 'no you don't understand they NEED each other here is my chart of the interpersonal dynamics and a list of all the ways hob can h #accidentally writing the new inn reunion scene i'd always dreamed of oops

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