#i regret having to cut part of the rap out

[eggboob]

remember that persona trinity soul song everyone was talking about last year

#i regret having to cut part of the rap out #but it was the only way to get it to fit the structure here #and i was not spending more than like 20 minutes on this #instrumental is from my song fog filled mind in case someone stumbles on this without knowing that

[hyperactively-me]

black tie affair

He slowly comes up behind you, hands stretched out in front of him, wordless. He grasps your waist firmly, holding you in place as his other hand brushes up against your lower back. You shiver under his touch, body still, unmoving. He was so close. So close.

"oh nooooo the zipper on my dress is stuck, what ever will i do? who would ever help meee?"

zipper is stuck trope. with ghost. lol bye.

also, don’t mind me making stuff up for this fic. don't think too hard about it. let's just pretend!

(asks are open)

happy reading

EDIT: PART 2 OUT NOW

warnings: none

Tonight was the Special Forces Military Ball. It was a once-a-year event that everyone on the task force looked forward to as an opportunity to unwind from work. A night of speeches, dancing, and drinking was highly awaited. 

You were in a hotel room, finishing applying your makeup in the small bathroom adjacent to the bedroom. The lighting was horrendous, but you persevered. You gently brush on the last touches of your eyeshadow, blinking a few times at your reflection in the mirror. You tilt your face side to side, inspecting every inch of your makeup before pulling back, smiling contentedly at your work. It’s been a while since you last wore this much makeup. A quick sigh escapes your lips as you turn out of the bathroom and into the main room. 

A long, black dress lays across the hotel bed. The dress swishes gently across the floor as you pick it up from the bed and hold it up in front of you in front of the floor length mirror. The sweetheart neckline swoops gracefully, the thick straps of the dress adorned with small silver gems. The skirt of the dress hugs all of your curves in the right places, accentuating your features. 

You start to slip on the dress, pulling it up and around your body, then pulling the sleeves over to rest on your shoulders. Reaching around your back, your hands come up as you fumble around with the zipper, only pulling it up an inch before it stops.

You try pulling it as hard as you can to no avail. Messing with the zipper a few more times does absolutely nothing, the continuous motion of pulling it up and down useless in aiding you. The zipper rests, stuck, on your lower back. 

“Fuck” you groan, annoyed with the stubborn zipper.

You angle your back towards the mirror and stare at it, mostly bare, with a frown. Someone was going to have to help you with this. 

Everyone, with the exception of one person, was busy preparing for the event as you racked your brain about who you could call. 

Simon “Ghost” Riley.

The big guy. 

You grab your phone and scroll through your contacts before your finger lands on his name. You hesitate for a moment, almost already regretting this. Next thing you know, you bring the phone up to your ear, biting your lip as it rings. The phone rings once, twice, then you hear the line pick up. 

“Hello?” the low timbre of his voice echoes from the phone. 

You inhale dramatically, and turn to look at yourself in the mirror. 

“Hi,” you sigh. 

The silence from the other end is overbearing. You grimace a little. 

You speak quickly, “So uh, I need some help.” You hold your breath as you wait for a response, any response from him. 

You hear some shuffling around, and a small cough. You roll your eyes once more. 

“Please,” you strain. 

He hesitates for a moment. “What’s wrong?” 

“This is awkward, but uh, the zipper on my dress is stuck, and you’re the only person I could think of to call and I totally get it if you can’t help me–”

“Which room is yours?” he cuts you off briskly. The shuffling in the background abruptly stopped. 

Your mouth opens and closes for a moment, shaking your head as you try to answer.

“Oh, yeah, it’s room 456, fourth floor…” you trail off. 

He hangs up without a word. You bring the phone away from your ear slowly and stare at yourself in the mirror once more. 

He really is a man of few words. 

You pace the room a few times, waiting for him when a single, brief knock raps your door. You stop in your tracks and turn to the door, then run to the mirror to make sure you look presentable enough. You look through the peekhole just to make sure its Ghost before you pull open the door swiftly. 

You’re met with his chest in your face, and you drag your eyes upward to his face. His covered face. In that skull mask he always wears. He’s wearing a black tuxedo along with a crooked black tie. 

“Hi” he says simply, raking his eyes down your form. 

You immediately grab his bicep and pull him into the room and shut the door behind you, pressing your exposed back to the door. He chuckles quietly at you, raising his eyebrows in amusement under his mask. 

“Thank you so much for coming” you breathe out, wringing your hands together. 

He just stares at you for a moment longer, taking in your appearance unabashedly. He shoves his hands in his pocket and clears his throat. 

“Wow. You look amazing” he whistles. 

Your cheeks heat up, your mouth slightly agape as the air leaves your lungs.

“Thank you.”

Your dress swishes around your feet as you push yourself off the door, brushing past him. “I could say the same for you, Simon.” 

Turning around, you brush a piece of stray hair behind your ear, taking a deep breath. He takes a few heavy steps towards you, his silence overbearing. 

“If you could zip me up, that would be great” you smile gently at him, biting your bottom lip awkwardly. You turn around, your exposed back facing Ghost, and you pull your hair over your shoulder. His breath wavers, eyes roaming the expanse of your back, then finally coming to rest on the small of your back. He slowly comes up behind you, hands stretched out in front of him, wordless. He grasps your waist firmly, holding you in place as his other hand brushes up against your lower back. You shiver under his touch, body still, unmoving. He was so close. So close. His free hand closes around the zipper, hesitant to free it. 

“Ghost–”

“It’s Simon. Simon, when we’re not on job,” he corrects. You stand up straight. 

“Simon. Are you going to zip me up?” 

He grunts quietly, then pulls at the zipper once, twice, before it's finally freed. You can feel heat radiating from his fingers as he pulls the zipper up agonizingly slow. As he pulls it up your back, his fingers brush against your skin, the small touches making your knees weak. Your cheeks feel hot from his languid movements. You let go of the breath you didn’t realize you were holding when he zipped it up to the top.  

The trance you were in abruptly stops as you hear the small click of the zipper hitting the top. You swiftly turn around, the skirt of your dress bustling around as you take a step back, his hand falling from your hip. 

“Well, thank you Gh– Simon” you say, pushing your hair back to its original place. You rock back on your heels as you inspect his covered face.

His eyes look blown wide, his hands now pulling at the bottom of his tux jacket.

“‘s not a problem” he murmurs, eyes still not looking away from you. His hands wander up to his loosened tie, fidgeting with it.

You notice his tie isn’t properly tied, and you take a few steps close to him, your eyes staring straight at his chest.

“Let me help you with that” you point to his tie. You take his hands in yours and gently pull them to his sides. His hands dwarf your own, and you drop them. His breath hitches. 

You wrestle with the tie, your hands brushing up against his chest and collarbone as you twist it into perfection. You keep your eyes trained on the tie, biting your lip as you concentrate. Simon’s eyes remain locked on you, following your every movement. 

The silence permeates the air, save for the rustling of fabric against fabric. 

You finish tying the knot, and pull it up tight to rest against the base of his throat. He stretches his neck upwards as your hands come to fasten the tie in place. You smooth your hands on the edge of his jacket, straightening out any remaining wrinkles. Your head tilts upwards, smiling softly at him. 

“There” you sigh contentedly, patting his cheek gently before pulling away. 

Before you could fully remove yourself, his hand snakes down to your waist, pulling you up against his body. A small squeak slips out of you as his hands rigidly hold your waist.

“Simon–”

“Stop talking.” 

Before you could even process his movements, he yanks his mask over his nose. Your breath catches in your lungs as your eyes trail the features of his lower face. His breath is hot on your face as he leans down, closer and closer. “Can I kiss you?” he murmurs, eyelashes fluttering as he stares at your lips, noses bumping into each other. He’s only an inch or two away from your face, and you can see every lineament of his skin, his cheekbones, the tip of his pointed nose, his lips. He smells like sandalwood and vetiver, the scent peppery and strong. 

You nod your head fervently, heart racing in your chest. 

“Please.”

That’s all he had to hear you say. 

Simon leans in, closing the miniscule gap between you two. He leans down to press a firm kiss on your lips, inhaling sharply at the contact, eliciting a soft sound from you. Your hands wrap around his neck, tugging him down to your height as his hands roam up and down your back. Simon draws your body against his, pulling you flush against him. He begins to nip your bottom lip, tongue swiping over your lip as if to ask permission. You let him take charge, his hand gliding up your body, your breath growing ragged. 

He bites your lip, slowly pulling away as he breaks contact. You gulp in the cool air of the room, studying his face as he slowly pulls his mask down in place. Your ears are red, face flushed. 

“You’re beautiful,” his voice comes out hoarse as he takes your hand in his. He rubs his thumb in circles around your palm, outlining your face. 

“Thank you” you whisper, taking his hand into your own. 

You gingerly pull him out of your room, and don’t let go of his hand for the rest of the night. 

PART 2

#*ੈ✩ simon “ghost” riley #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #cod #call of duty reader insert #call of duty #ghost #simon “ghost” riley #fluff #ghost x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley imagine #ghost imagine #hyperactivelyme

[roo-bastmoon]

Thoughts on 3D

So Jungkook's collab with Jack Harlow is out. It is catchy; it will go viral. I have purchased it; I will add it to my new releases playlists--same as I do for all our boys.

But while the dancing was cool and JK's parts are okay (I'm not thrilled that the word "girl" is used literally 20 times, but I get what the western music industry is), I was--I need to be honest here--really taken aback and unhappy with how misogynistic Jack Harlow's rap lyrics were. As far as I'm concerned, he's absolutely unnecessary, and I'll be supporting the alternate version with a lot more enthusiasm.

A deeper look at the lyrics and more of my thoughts are under the cut if you're interested (but by clicking, you're agreeing to keep it respectful in the comments or you'll get banned.)

All my ABG's get cute for me I had one girl (One girl), too boring Two girls (Two girls), that was cool for me Three girls, damn, dude's horny Four girls, okay now you whorin' (Hey, hey, hey) Hey, I'm loose I done put these shrooms to good use

Setting young women up in a line and talking about how sleeping with just one is too boring but sleeping with four is whorish? Yeah, miss me with it.

Then there's this:

You won't regret me (You won't regret me) Champagne confetti (Champagne confetti) I wanna see it In motion In 3D (Show it to me, girl, now, why?)

I was given to understand that "ABG" stands for "Asian Baby Girl" and refers to an Asian party girl who likes clubbing, wearing excessive makeup and tattoos, and revealing clothes, etc.

I also learned from Urban Dictionary—which can be an unreliable site with outdated or incorrect information—that "champagne" has referred to underage girls in the past and "confetti" or nowadays “champagne confetti” refers to orgasm, or sometimes when a group of men or women surround someone, masturbate, and then ejaculate on them.

Not even going to get into the shrooms thing. I'm not in a hyper conservative country with harsh punishments for those type of drugs so... I was a bit taken aback about a song about being fucked right, and now there's lyrics about what amounts to harem girls.

*sigh* Do you know how much I hope I'm reading into things incorrectly? Please correct me if I'm misunderstanding the innuendo, but this is what urban dictionary says. I'm 44 and live in a cave. Maybe I'm wrong.

But in any case, the vibe of Jack's parts in the video was not coming off respectful.

I don't care how many other rap songs objectify and insult women--I won't get behind any content that does. And don't even try to gaslight me or other ARMY into saying we should like this because it's comparatively worse in other rap songs. Don't try to suppress any discourse about it, either--let women discuss how they feel about how they are represented. Don't police women. Don't silence women.

BTS' rap music got so much better once they incorporated feminist feedback, so I'm used to a higher standard and I won't be lowering those standards for anyone. I have no hang ups about sex, but please miss. me. with. misogynistic. bullshit.

Then again, it seems some of the rap hyungs were on board with this.

So I guess industry pros have a different take on stuff like this!

*shrug*

Okay, we have established that I really don't like Jack Harlow's contributions to this song. Which means I'll support the alternative. Thank goodness they had the foresight to provide an alternative!

Now I can work for JK's charts in a way that doesn't aggravate my conscience. All good. Enough said on 3D.

Personally? I really hope JJK1 showcases JK's range of genres, but also has a range of topics besides pursuing girls or being cool.

I just can't vibe with a fuckboy persona; I never liked Justin Bieber or Justin Timberlake for that very reason, even if some of their songs sound fine. Now, if Jungkook really admires their style and wants to pursue it, I'm not going to rag on him for it. Of course not. It's his choice and I can respect people's choices without making the same choices myself.

I will always try to support our members as far as I can, even if not everything is my cup of tea.

But I can't help hoping for something personal and authentic and substantive, when it's just Jungkook coming to us without a collab. (And with Scooter at the helm for an all-English EP, I guess I'm not holding my breath. But maybe this is all part of the learning and growing process. Time will tell.)

Please know that I don't expect other people to suit me and my tastes, but neither will I enthusiastically support content with my time and money when they don't suit me at all or actually really turn me off, ya feel me? It's a real and respectful relationship I have with BTS and their music; not performative. I don't follow along quietly out of obligation, but rather a sincere joy to participate.

I love Jungkook deeply. He's a sweet and intelligent and kind-hearted young man. Amazingly talented and humble. Sincere, open to being vulnerable, protective of those whom he loves. He donates to kid's hospitals, for goodness sake. Jeon Jungkook is a good egg.

I guess I'm just sort of feeling a bit whelmed by the type of music that is in vogue these days. JK worked hard, he did well on his parts. I just am hoping his album showcases some of the emotional depth and meaningful thoughts I have seen from him in the past, if I'm being purely honest. *shrug*

Those are my less-than-two cents. Of course, you may have a vastly different perspective and I appreciate that. Just please keep it respectful of all members and each other in the comments here. It's been a long day and I desperately need some real rest now. I'm trusting I can post this and not come back to a warzone.

I've got a Friday Thirst post in the queue for you guys, and then I'll be taking a bit of a break from social media for a few days to work on work deadlines. Please keep voting for Jimin and of course stream and buy for Jungkook and other new releases.

Sending you all so much love!

~Roo

#jungkook #Spotify

[katuschka]

A Rollercoaster Ride with Tom&Jerry

Josh Kiszka x male OC (1st person narrative) 8.014 words

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, intended for adult readers. Any resemblance to real persons is purely coincidental. Also, if you're under 18, go find some other entertainment elsewhere. Warnings: intense and confusing emotions; swear words; both verbal and physical fights; oral sex; anal sex (surprise, surprise, it's about two guys); toys; choking&gagging&some spanking; BDSM; ...so you see, it's not for everyone. This is basically a story about finding and re-establishing mutual trust. It involves conflict. Where there is a flame, someone's bound to get burned. So if you have any doubts that you're gonna be able to handle it, proceed with caution. Big thanks goes to: 1. @edgingthedarkness for making an illustrative short video (you're gonna find it inside the story below) that should make the whole experience even juicier! 2. all my beta-readers and cheerleaders, especially @writingcold, @edgingthedarkness, @its-interesting-van-kleep and @thewritingbeforesunrise. Cheers, guys.

I've got some things to say 'Cause there's a lot that you don't know It's written on my face It's gonna be hard to swallow (P!nk)

“You’re awfully quiet tonight. What’s going on?” 

I sighed. Yeah, no shit. There was actually so much I wanted to say to him ever since the show ended, I just couldn’t figure out how to do that without sounding like a jealous little girl. My mind was absolutely racing and when that happens, the connection between my brain and my mouth just gets cut off completely. It’s a serious condition, really. Commonly known as “sulking.” 

I often accompany him on tour, but I try to avoid live shows. I have my reasons. Hundreds of them. I agreed to be there for the last few concerts, which I now deeply regretted. 

It had been a really busy and eventful week; me, myself and I getting increasingly irritated – by everything, but mostly him – as the days went by, and tonight’s events felt like the last straw. Part of me wanted to be finally alone with him, and another part just wanted to be alone. So, as a result, I just tried to avoid him. I had kept to myself while watching him down his beer as the band enjoyed their aftershow high back in the green room. No one else seemed to pay attention to me, and for that I was glad. Now we were sitting in a car on our way back to the hotel room, and the confrontation that I’d tried to avoid seemed inevitable. 

As much as I pretended to be interested in the night scenery behind the window, it was impossible to ignore him any longer. Sadly, it was equally impossible to pretend that everything was ok and the idea that we could resolve it soon seemed pretty absurd. He was still in his stage outfit, bare chest in full display, absentmindedly scratching the skin right below his left nipple. Much to my dismay, he smelled divine, too. Warm and musky from the exertion, still with a faint hint of vanilla and cedar. AND he was obviously completely clueless. 

“You know Josh, you make it really hard sometimes...” 

Well, shit. I realized what I just did even before I finished the sentence. The instant smirk on his face told me that it was a really bad word choice and I regretted it immediately. I really wished that he would take it seriously this time. But he was still exhilarated and unnaturally restless, even to his standards. He literally couldn’t sit still, fidgeting in his seat, rapping his knuckles on a windowsill, giggling at nothing in particular…and I’d swear I even heard a moan when the car accidentally hit a curb. If I didn’t know him, I would say that he was high, but I knew he would never do that while performing. 

“Yeah, I often do, don’t I darling.” He turned to me and pouted playfully, his chin resting on his fist. “...but you’re never quiet when that happens, so why don’t you tell me what’s bugging you.” He was looking at me now, the lower lip between his teeth again, eyelids half closed. Cheeky bastard. 

What I really meant was – and he just proved my point again, by the way – that it was hard to keep the conversation serious when he was like that. And he was like that most of the fucking time. Everyone loved him for it, and that was the problem, because he just didn’t hesitate to love them all back. Not only was this his nature, but what is more, he was required to do that. A people pleaser, an entertainer…I was no longer pleased, nor entertained, though. 

I knew what I signed up for when we started seeing each other. Granted, I didn’t know who he was – or what he was – when we first met in that rally more than three years ago. He was just a beautiful boy with the eyes of a winking doll and a golden halo bouncing around his head. In a crowd of other nameless, faceless and anonymous people, he exuded blinding light. Am I too sentimental? If you were there, you’d surely understand. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. After staring at him for at least fifteen minutes, I dared to lift my camera up to take a picture just as the wind blew a few disheveled locks into his face. He immediately noticed. His brows furrowed and his eyes squinted at me, but they were warm and I could tell he was smiling behind his mask, even though apprehensively. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” “Why did you do that?” If I had thought that it couldn’t get any worse, I was sorely mistaken. The sultry voice that came from behind that black piece of cloth didn’t match his overall appearance. It made my dick twitch though, and I had to hear it again, so I decided to come clear about it, because he was already turning away again, not really interested in my answer. As if having his pictures taken was something that happened everyday. Yeah, as if. But…

Believe it or not, I just told him I thought he was beautiful. Right there on that street. I don’t normally do shit like that. To this day, I still don’t understand what got into me. It was blunt and impudent and no doubt a bit weird, and I expected him to tell me to fuck off. 

But instead, he blushed. “Well, you’re not so bad yourself.” 

I wasn’t sure if it was genuine or if he was just playing along. Or even mocking me. But I had to seize the opportunity by the hair. “I’m Tom.” What else to say, right?

“Josh.”

That’s it. That’s how Tom met Josh. We talked a lot that day. He was cute and funny and I just couldn’t get enough of that voice, which is never a good sign. You shouldn’t let yourself get addicted to people. It’s dangerous and he was very addictive. Later that day, when we left the crowd behind and he put the mask down to reveal his full, rosy lips, I should have run. But I didn’t. I let him use those lips to chain me to him just as they enveloped my dick.

Since then, there was not one single day when I wouldn’t think about that mouth. It only got worse when that sleepy pout became the first thing I saw almost every time I opened my eyes in the morning during that summer. Our relationship started as a strictly sexual one, not because we wanted it that way, but simply because arousal and excitement came first, and there was nothing else to do. We skipped dating and dived head first in the sheets. The world had slowed down, the future looked hazy, and we were just bored. OK, I admit, I was bored. His life wasn’t boring at all. Not even then. I got sucked into it pretty soon (pun absolutely intended). He made me fall for him before we even realized what was happening, and it was brutally intense. And it was also mutual. 

I soon learned what it really meant to be part of that world. Our secret summer of love ended and reality hit. I went completely offline, partly because I was not interested in being hunted down by hysterical chicks, but mostly because he didn’t want them to know. You know what I mean. I didn’t really care that much myself, but I also understood. 

If you’re into traveling, and if you ever followed @tomontheroad on Instagram and wondered why it just vanished one day, wonder no more. Yes, it was me. You probably didn’t even notice though, because in late 2020, it had already been dead for months anyway. 

That’s just how it was. To keep the life we shared safe, I became an invisible nobody, which made it almost impossible for me to do my job, but I somehow managed. Meanwhile, he was there in the spotlight, adored by thousands, making their pussies and dreams wet. I was never to be seen. I agreed to all that, gladly, even though it was gradually getting worse. They started touring again, and that was when I saw his full potential, wrapped in velvet. He was their Pied Piper, playing his flute just as he played his vocals. I still didn’t mind. It was all worth it. I thought it was, at least. As soon as we closed the doors behind us, a brand new universe opened before me. Behind the closed doors, I was a traveler again, a tireless explorer. Every inch and every curve of his body was a land full of miracles and pleasures. A wondrous landscape. Every valley, a new home for me. Every peak, a place that revealed brand new horizons. Who needed tropical white sands when his warm skin was the perfect place to lay your head, the sound of his heart more calming than the humming of sea waves. I simply loved him. 

I learned to live with the fact that I had a boyfriend that hundreds of people wanted to fuck, but it was me who actually did. They were mere voyeurs, standing outside the shopping window, ogling hungrily all the delicious desserts on display, which only I had the privilege to taste. I kept telling myself that I was the lucky one. 

And you know what? That’s complete and utter bullshit. I keep doing this to myself. Lying to myself. I hadn’t learned to live with it at all. Granted, we had these conversations before, and all of them ended with me telling him it was fine. Everything was fine. I spent nearly two fucking years trying to convince myself that I was completely ok with all of this and just this evening I realized how much it was really bothering me. 

Today he crossed the fucking line. The feeling that lurked somewhere in the back of my mind now reared its ugly head and I felt like I reached my limits. 

I said I was there for the show. I actually never really get to see it, because I myself can’t be seen. It had been months since I last watched their concert and this past week I just waited for him in the green room. But tonight he insisted that I be there. I finally agreed, even though it really meant just lurking by the side, under the stage level with the staff, watching what was going on onstage on the monitor with Steve who’s in charge of big screens. 

The camera loved him. And he loved it back, losing himself in the moment as he got high on the music they made. The audience was losing it too, screaming in frenzy because he made them feral. It all looked just like one big orgy. I had seen it many times before, that’s why I didn’t really want to be there, but I still couldn’t get my eyes off that screen. I was very familiar with all those faces he made. I had heard those moans before, I had watched him arch his back just like that before, the way he bit his lip, how his brows furrowed… I could tell he got bolder with it over time. I was mesmerized, but there was one big problem. The whole arena was watching this with me now, equally enchanted, but he was interacting with them and I felt unwelcome. I had seen some pictures, watched two or three shorts, but nothing could prepare me for this. 

He ran down the stage a few times that evening, waved at me the first time, blew me a kiss a moment later, but as the evening progressed, I suddenly felt like losing him. It was an unwelcome surge of panic and just when I thought I got it under control, he ran past me and the next thing I saw on the screen was him right at the barricade, letting himself be hugged and groped by all those random people. I had enough. I couldn’t breathe. I excused myself and ran to the green room to pour myself a generous amount of whiskey. 

Fast forward back to where we were, in the car on our way back to the hotel. “Not here,” I retorted. “Later.” The rest of the ride was tense. He kept looking sideways at me, I kept being extremely absorbed in examining the hem of my shirt. As soon as the door of our shared apartment closed behind us, he confronted me. 

“So, we’re here. Care to explain why you’ve been behaving like such an insufferable bitch tonight?”

“Oh that’s rich, Joshua. By all means feel free to make it aaaall about my behavior again. Nothing wrong with you acting like an insolent and inconsiderate slut!” 

“Inconsiderate…” He looked as if I just punched him. 

“Yes!” I hissed, “inconsiderate! You know, it’s funny how you find this worth reacting…but not the fact that I just called you a slut.”

He just laughed and shook his head in disbelief as he headed straight to the minibar to pour  himself a drink. “Well,” he trilled, “you didn’t shake the bitch allegations either, my love. At least I’m fun to be around.” 

I just huffed and went towards the balcony to open the glass door. I really needed some fresh air. “Yeah, I’m not amused. But you don’t seem to mind. You were having a really good time there, with their hideous, overlong nails scratching your tits. Or when you were moaning into the microphone, almost pretending that you were fucking them all.” With that, I collapsed on the couch. 

“So what do you want me to do to amuse you? You want me to fuck you? Let’s fuck in earnest, no pretending.  Will that make it better? Do you want me to show you what and who I’m REALLY thinking about when their nails scratch my skin?”

“No Josh, you fucking me wouldn’t really sort out anything I’m afraid, because right now I feel like you’re fucking with me all the fucking time. I want to claim you, because I love the way you’re looking at me when I’m deep inside you and when you have to bite your lower lip just to stop it from quivering, you know. Not only because I really, really love that sight, but also because only then I feel like I’m the only person on your radar. And that’s what I need now.”

He watched me avidly, with his head slightly tilted and his expression almost unreadable, except for the obvious arousal that was silently flowing through his whole body, and I swear you could see it glimmering behind his pupils. I definitely could see it in his tight pants. I would lie if I said that I wasn’t aroused. Truth be told, I needed to fuck him, badly. We could continue bitching about each other’s behavior later. For now, angry fuck would do…

He put his glass down and slowly took off his sun jacket, all without breaking eye contact. It was like watching him in slow motion, when he palmed his hardening dick through the white satin, squeezed it briefly and then stroked it gently a few times. He loved this. He was a born entertainer, always ready to please the audience. I couldn’t help but admire the fact that he knew exactly what he was doing. I was his audience now, and I had to admit to myself that this was a completely different show. 

“Ok, that’s convenient, because I’d really love you to finish what I started.” 

I had no clue what he was talking about and watched him – flabbergasted – as he turned around, pulled his pants down and bent over to unfasten the cuffs around his ankles. That’s when I saw it. A little sparkly gem between his buttcheeks. I recognised the tiny steel buttplug with a faceted stone immediately, even though we hadn’t used it much. I gave it to him for Christmas, and later he joked that it really fit the Starcatcher aesthetics, so maybe he should wear it with the rest of his jewelry, but I didn’t really expect him to actually do it!

“Josh…did you have it in for the whole show?” I tried to keep it cool, but the words only came out as a breathy whisper. He only chuckled and stretched like a cat to relieve his stiff muscles. He was still acting, completely naked now, exaggerating every move just to torture me. 

“No, darling. I wanted to, but they would have seen it under the jumpsuit. It’s quite tight, isn’t it. No, I put it in for es-tee-tee. Colors, gems and trim, darling. Now, let’s take a shower first. And close your mouth, or else I’ll fill it.” And with that he strutted into the bathroom without even waiting for me, shaking that tiny bejeweled ass just for the show. He knew that I would follow. He already had me in his grasp, metaphorically speaking. 

We often showered together. That was our personal habit, both at home or when I accompanied him on his travels. It was always our sweet moment of seclusion in his otherwise busy schedule. Very intimate, but not always blatantly sexual. Of course, sometimes it WAS blatantly sexual, but oftentimes we just talked a lot, kissed a lot, washed each other’s hair, just took care of each other. Just tracing my fingers down his spine was enough to help me forget about the gloomy world beyond our walls. Not to mention being inside his walls, but I digress…

I took my time. I couldn’t give him the satisfaction of following him like a pet dog, so I stripped slowly, took a few more sips of my drink and walked indolently into the bathroom. Just for the show. I expected him to wait for me by the counter, but he didn’t. He was already in the shower, steam already filling the room. I slid the glass door open and started. He was standing there, right under the stream, facing the door, his eyes boring into me. He was quite a sight, too. Not having bothered with the stage makeup, the streaks of smudged eyeliner were now running down his cheeks, over the remaining rhinestones. Wet hair already flattened and pulled back. This was intentional. He was still provoking me. 

We just observed each other warily before he broke the silence and asked me nonchalantly if I could just wash his back. I gestured to him to turn around and did as he asked. I poured the vanilla-scented body wash in my hands and soaped his body with it, just like I always did. And just like he always did, he started talking about the events of the day. Some tiktok video they filmed after the soundcheck that I didn’t care about. 

His tone was completely casual, in spite of the fact that I held his balls firmly in my hand, gently massaging them with my soap-covered hand. I let my other hand travel slowly down his left buttcheek towards that little surprise he had there for me previously. 

“So tell me, Josh. Why this?” 

I watched him smile at the question. His previous restlessness suddenly made perfect sense. The whole time I was sulking and worrying about us, about his behavior and his intentions, he was just getting himself off. I took the bejeweled plug in my fingers and twisted it gently. He arched his back and moaned softly. I just loved listening to him. His lovely mouth could elicit the most delicious high-pitched whimpers. So I did it again. This time, his head landed on my shoulder, exposing his neck to me. I let my nose brush against my favorite place right under his earlobe. This was dangerous territory. Everytime I let myself wander through the smooth valleys of his lithe body, I was close to losing my mind, and he knew it. He was narcotic. Normally, it just meant that earth-shattering sex would follow, but I needed to stay focused, because I had to resolve this first: “Fucking tell me, Josh,” I hissed.

“I…I like to keep myself perked up, my love. I can’t go onstage…oh, yes, thee-e-e-ere…I can’t go onstage drunk, or high…dammit…that would, aaah would be unprofessional, yeah?” He chuckled.  “So I just keep myself turned-on instead. It’s good for the show.”

“For the show, eh? You’re a liar.”

“No…no-ah, I’m not lying, dear. I keep myself turned on…and when I feel the rhythm in my bones and when I let the… the melody soar through my veins, I imagine your dick inside me. Or your fingers. Aaaall because they lo-oooh-love seeing me like that. So you see, it’s good for the show. They can feel it. Our love. Just…genuine…love. The feeling is omnipresent…and I want to share it.”

The insolence! “You see Josh, that’s the problem,” I whispered while my teeth grazed his jugular, “I don’t want to share it.”

With that, he turned around and kissed me gently, letting the tip of his tongue just brush against mine. With his left hand stroking the nape of my neck, his right palm slowly wandered down my torso, fingertips lightly grazing my left nipple, and further down, until he had me in his grasp, now literally speaking. I fell under his spell again, utterly and completely, and I no longer wanted to fight it. I had to remind myself that tonight was supposed to be my night, that I was supposed to be in control, but I was slowly losing it anyway. He sensed it, and generously put me back on track, while still jerking me off. 

“Honey, this is us. This is just us. I share the miracle, you see? That’s my job. But you don’t share me with anyone. You own me!” 

Oh yeah, that worked. His words felt like a detonator. Perhaps more than he had intended them to. I’m sure they were partly meant to soothe me, but something really snapped in me and all those pent-up emotions suddenly begged to be released. I lost all my remaining mental clarity and acted upon it without really thinking. I pushed him against the wall and firmly wrapped my hand around his throat. His head hit the tiles with a dull thud and even though my own actions took me by surprise and I saw a brief flicker of panic in his eyes, I couldn’t stop. I kept him pinned to the wall with my thigh pushing his legs apart. He belonged to me, and I needed him to understand it.

I’m not the world’s strongest man, but I’m bigger than him. Three inches taller, and I could overpower him without much difficulty. That’s why I had always been rather gentle with him, even though he’s a hotheaded bastard and always fights back like a mad chihuahua. Not this time. He just watched me with those doe-like eyes and his mouth slightly ajar, while his hands just rested on my chest. I barely felt the touch. He was a meek lamb, a rag doll, but his face told me a different story. I could see his previously bewildered expression transform into a defiant one. He tilted his chin up, nostrils flared. He was daring me, breathing heavily and waiting for my next move.  

“Damn right I do! Fuck, you’re mine,” I growled and tightened my grip on his neck, while my other hand kneaded his left buttock.  

He whimpered and I recognized the sound. I’d heard it many times before. Everytime I pounded into him with feral force, when I pulled his hair, or when I smacked his ass, because that was the only part of his body I ever dared to leave a mark on. 

“You like this, you little fucker.”

He closed his eyes, breathing raggedly through his nose. I could feel his semi spring up and twitch against my thigh. I could tell just by his fingertips now clawing at my chest that he really did. But I needed to hear it. 

“Answer me!” 

“Yeah,” he finally breathed out and our eyes met again. 

We were both very sensual people, but never overly violent with each other. It’s not that the idea never crossed my mind, because I really like rough fuck. Sue me. I’d had my fair share of “tough love” during the time spent with my previous lovers. Truth be told, he was often pushing my buttons, and it took all my willpower not to act. All smiles and sunshine on the outside, he could be an insufferable brat sometimes. I just always had to remind myself that I couldn’t leave a mark, even though his own nails frequently branded me with scratches. But that was it. It was part of the deal. I treated him like my pampered darling, even at times when I just had to shut him up with a gag… some occassional BD sans SM, that’s how we rolled. It just occurred to me that treating him like that might have been a mistake. I just had to make sure that he was really agreeing to this.

I let go of his neck and let my fingers travel up his jaw and into his wet hair, all without breaking eye contact. We were watching each other intently, trying to communicate without words, searching for clues. I cradled his head in my hands, my fingers massaging the back of his head. He leaned into the touch and closed his eyes. 

“Does it hurt?” 

He shook his head silently. I placed a trail of short kisses up his neck until I reached his earlobe and nibbled on it gently. I felt him pull me closer to him as he pressed his fingertips convulsively into the flesh on my hips until it almost hurt.

“Are you ok?” I whispered in his ear. He nodded and rubbed his nose against my cheek. A brief moment of tenderness was exactly what we both needed to reassess our position. Now it was the time to remind him of his role…

“Fine, on your knees!” I pushed him down, perhaps with not enough force, because it did not wipe that defiant look off his face, but I was well aware of the fact that he also still had that thing deep inside him. I was pumped, but not reckless. He was now kneeling right under the shower stream, small rivulets of water running down his face as he looked up at me, blinking. I had to take a deep breath not to cum just from the sight.  

“Open your mouth.”

…and he didn’t. Because he knew. That dastardly sneer of his is going to be the end of me one day, but I usually tolerate it. Not only because it’s hot as fuck, but also because it tells me he knows what I need. Or better yet, what he makes me need…and crave. I certainly hadn’t known that I needed my head to be treated like a lollypop until he taught me it was what I craved. Parting his lips ever so slightly, it just rested on them until he darted his tongue out into the slit, savoring every little drop of my precum. He had this habit of looking up at me when he was doing this, because he knew it was driving me crazy. 

So that’s what he was doing. Licking at my glans, watching me, daringly. I wasn’t having it. Enough of this game. I grabbed his head and buried my cock in the back of his throat. He gagged on it violently, darting his head backwards. I was still holding his head in both of my hands, though, and pushed him back, fucking his mouth in ferocious speed until he tapped on my thigh. Only then I released my grasp, watching him gasp for air. He looked up at me again, and whispered: “More.” 

And more he got. Oh god, that was so sexy, him literally begging me to choke him with my dick. I adjusted my pace, sliding in and out of those full, swollen lips. Grabbing my butt with both his hands, he urged me to go deeper, to fill him up, to obstruct his airway passage again. He tried to relax, letting my cock glide smoothly on his velvet tongue. I was getting close, dangerously close, but I wasn’t done with him yet. His mouth was perfect, but I needed more. 

Before I stopped, I grabbed him by the nape of his neck, pushed him down my shaft and held him there for a while, until I felt his throat contract and his body convulsed. Another gag, another gasp. I let go and tilted his chin up lightly with my index finger. The running water quickly washed away the thick strings of saliva and the tears, but he still looked a mess, exhausted and tamed. He was also very hard, his eyes not the only thing looking at me. He loved this. A wave of tenderness washed over me again. Damn, it was always like this with him. A real rollercoaster of feelings. 

“Come here, my filthy princess.” 

I grabbed him by the arms, pushed him up on his feet again and pulled him into a tight embrace. I felt his chest rise and fall against mine, deep breaths interspersed with intermittent, barely audible chuckles. 

“What’s so funny?” 

“Not funny, just…exhilarating.” 

My good boy. He deserved a reward. I bowed down and ran a few circles around his hardened nipple with the tip of my tongue, because he loved that. You might think I’m too soft, but this is what makes the experience really intense. I was still pissed, and full of adrenaline, but it was all because I loved him so much, and I needed him to feel it all. I ran my fingers down his spine, scratching his skin with my nails, perhaps more than necessary. But it was necessary. With the actual words still stuck in my throat, the touch was my language now. He looked at me again with a sweet smile, the tip of his tongue grazing his upper lip.

“So…now that it’s settled and I promise to be good, are you going to do that thing, darling?”

“That thing” meant me sucking his dick with my fingers knuckles deep in his ass. “Yeah, baby, you’ve earned it,” I stroked his cheek with my right hand while the left one traveled down right between his asscheeks...”let’s pull this out, then?” He nodded and turned around, resting his elbows against the tiles. It was my turn to get down on my knees. Yeah, I hear you, not very dominant of me, but you need to understand that this man has got the most fabulous ass I’ve ever seen, and I swear I’m gonna kiss and bite and spread and lick it any time I get the opportunity to do so. 

I put some shower gel on my fingers and circled them around the plug. “Try to relax.”

“I know,” he spat impatiently through his teeth. That earned him a smack on his right buttock. Brat. I pulled the plug out gently, eliciting a long, breathy and relieved moan from him. I massaged the opening a bit, washing the rest of the soap out, before I grabbed him with both hands to spread him a bit more for me. What a glorious view. I buried my face in it and darted my tongue out. 

“Oh god,” he breathed out as I licked into him. 

The flowing water was starting to get on my nerves so I turned it off before I turned him around to face me. It was now my turn to taste his leaking tip. A few swift cat licks made him clutch at my shoulders tight and he almost lost his balance when I swallowed him whole. I reached behind him and gently pushed my middle finger inside him while my head bobbed up and down his dick. I pushed my finger deeper, curled it towards me and set a steady rhythm of my movements. 

His breath suddenly quickened and I could feel him pulsate on my tongue. It was a matter of mere seconds. No. I stopped, retreated abruptly and stood up. His eyes nearly popped out of his skull and he was gaping at me in disbelief. I just smiled at him maliciously. He thought he could play with me, so let’s make this a shared experience. 

“What the hell?!?” My plan worked perfectly. He practically shouted it at me. He was furious. Cute. 

“I haven’t come yet, so what on earth made you think that I would let YOU, “ I smirked.

“Fuck you!” he pushed me aside forcefully and stormed out of the shower, heading back into the bedroom. Dripping wet, he slipped on the floor and almost fell, which gave me more time to react. 

I ran after him. “Hey, where the fuck are yo…ouch!” The fucker slammed the bathroom door right in my face. I threw it open again with force, triyng to catch him. He was just by the bed when I reached out for his hair and yanked him back, making his back collide with my chest. “Ouch, that hurt, you bastard!” he yelled as he tried to break free from my grasp, squirming, but he stood no chance. 

“Do you want me to stop?” I hissed in his ear. 

“No…” Good. I pushed him face down on the bed, grabbed his wrists and held them firmly behind his back. I needed him to stay that way, so I searched the ground for something I could use. My eyes spotted a bathrobe that I tossed over the armchair earlier that day. Perfect. “Don’t move!” I got off him for a while to get what I needed. He looked over his shoulder, watching me as I pulled the belt out of the loops. He didn’t move, lying face down by the edge of the bed, ass up. My obedient baby.

I grabbed his wrists again and showed him the belt, making it obvious what I was going to do. “You ok with this?”

“Yeah, go ahead.” 

I nodded, tied his wrists behind his back and went searching for the lube. “I’m going to fuck you now, and I’m not going to be gentle about it. If it becomes too much, or you just want me to stop, just say stop. Do you understand?

“Yes.” 

“Fine. Oh, here it is.” I squeezed a generous amount of the lube on my fingers and put two of them to his asshole, rubbing it in circles before I pushed them in slowly. He was already almost ready from before, but I needed him to relax a bit more. “Now listen, I will let you cum this time. No monkey business. But I want the same from you. If you wanna cum, you’re going to behave. You’re going to beg for it. Understand?” I added a third finger and he whimpered and bit his lip, huffing. I was getting impatient. “Do-you-under-stand!?”

“Yeah,” he breathed out, “yes, I understand. Fuck me please. I’ll behave.”

I withdrew, slapped his butt, rubbed the remaining lube all over my cock, positioned myself and… pushed in. I had to focus all of my self-control on not pushing all the way in. He was so tight and warm and inviting, and I was all worked-up. The whole situation was a bit overwhelming, to be honest, but I just couldn’t get enough of it at the same time. His quick and shallow breaths told me that he felt pretty much the same. After several languid thrusts during which we both somehow managed to regain our composure and I quickened my pace. I grabbed his bound wrists in one hand and held his head down with the other. The room was filled with our synched moans and the slapping sound of our flesh colliding. I couldn’t get enough of him.

I grabbed his ass and slammed into him with full force. He cried out and begged me for more. His profile was absolutely entrancing, eyes squeezed shut and his mouth wide open, his melodic whines in sync with my thrusts. I needed to see more of it, so I unbound his wrists, pulled out and turned him over. 

I grabbed his ankles instead and forced his legs up, before I buried myself in him again. My heart was beating wildly. I felt the poisonous cocktail of all the previously suppressed and boiling emotions fill my veins as the pleasure overcame my senses. “Look at me!” He watched me, bewildered, while I rammed into him, sweaty and almost out of breath. Suddenly all I could hear were my own labored grunts, while he just stared at me, wide-eyed and speechless. 

“Cat got your tongue, hm? Always so…eloquent…with…them all…but not one…spare word…for your dirty little secret!” 

Adrenaline running in my veins, I continued pounding into him and almost missed the sudden shift in his mood and movements. 

“Tom…”

It was barely a whisper at first, but soon he became more and more agitated. “Tom…Tom, please. TOM! Hold on…stop…”

His face twisted in clear discomfort and his hands were clawing at my chest. I pulled out carefully. “What happened Josh? Did I hurt you?”

“No…no, m’fine. S’just a bit overwhelming, is all,” he mumbled. “Can you kiss me?”

I let his legs slide down my shoulders, leaned down and softly brushed my lips with his. I was confused, but also desperate to make this better, whatever it was. I stroked his cheek with my thumb and tried to make him look at me, but his eyes scanned the ceiling erratically and he blinked several times as he obviously tried to fight back the tears. But I could see that his eyes were already red. Now it was my turn to start panicking. Was he afraid of me? “Josh! Josh, honey, please, look at me. Are you hurt?” He shook his head and sobbed. Then his eyes finally met mine: “No, I’m alright. It’s just…please, don’t hate me Tom. I can’t stand you hating me. I was just trying to protect you.” 

The realization that hit him a minute ago now backfired back to me. And just like that my heart shattered into millions of microscopic pieces. I searched his face for more answers, those big, tearful eyes staring back at me. I stroked his hair tentatively. All the previous tension and anger dissolved and he was my sunshine boy again, but these were mere pale winter beams, and it was my fault, and the realization chilled me to my bones. He was weeping silently under me, obscured by my clouds. 

I moved slowly from between his legs and pulled him up into my embrace. He was reluctant at first, but slowly wrapped his arms around me. We just sat there for a while, cradling each other.  “I could never…,” I whispered against the damp skin right above his collarbone. “I’m just a terrible, jealous guy.”

“No, I made you jealous. I didn’t mean to, I didn’t realize…”

He couldn’t have. He’s the one who always lets his feelings pour out of him. I’ve always struggled with this. Not that I didn’t want to tell what was bothering me, I just couldn’t translate the whirlwind of my thoughts into coherent sentences. Just tell me what’s wrong, Tom. My previous lovers often lost patience with me. They always thought I didn’t want to talk and then our arguments ended with them giving up on me. Not him. He tried to make me laugh, he tried to make me yell, he tried to seduce me and he let me take all of him. I held him tight. I couldn’t let go. I was on the verge of tears, but it was him who needed comfort. I just hoped that I could give it to him. It was him who finally broke the silence. 

“Tom…” It was barely a whisper. 

“Yes?”

“I just hope you know I love you.” 

I finally loosened the embrace to look at him. My mouth was dry and my throat felt constricted, but I somehow managed to force out at least a weak “I do.” But that wasn’t enough. I knew I needed to say more: “…yes, baby, you’ve been telling me…I’m sorry,” I croaked. He took a deep breath and continued. 

“But hearing is not the same as feeling it…and,” he cleared his throat,”...and sometimes I need to feel it too. Sometimes it feels like you’re not even present. In your secret hiding place behind a thick wall and I just can’t get in!”

I buried my face in my hands. I needed a minute to process the evening’s events. “So, you seek it elsewhere?” I regretted those words almost instantly, but at least I finally forced myself to speak. 

“What do you mean? God, no!”

“No, not like that. I mean all those people, the plug. You didn’t really expl…” 

“I already told you! I wanted to share what we have.”

“By letting them touch you…”

“Cut it already!” He slapped the mattress, furious once again. “Yes, maybe you’re right…to a certain extent,” he spat out at me. “Yes, I let them touch me. I share a lot with people. It’s fulfilling and it feels natural. But it’s a different kind of love. And they understand. They didn’t grab at me, no one tried to pull me in. I share a lot with them but I don’t belong to them. But I agree with you that it's very personal. I thought about doing that for quite a while, but couldn’t find the courage to do so…unless I felt you there with me. I do miss you there. Sometimes I just miss you… anyway, about the plug…I guess today felt like a perfect day to try it. Please just tell me you understand, because I’m getting really sick of this.”

The plug was a gift from me, so yeah, I understood…kind of. Touch is important to him. But... “But why today?”

“Oh Tom,” he was tearful again. “Oh, fuck you. Really. It’s exactly three years since the day you first told me that you loved me.”

I just stared at him for a while, speechless. Then I finally lost it and started crying. “I’m a terrible person.” I felt like shit, I treated him like shit and really deserved to get a taste of my own medicine, in one way or another. But Josh is not like that. He doesn’t do that. And so it was now his turn to hug me, even though I tried to back away at first. But he’s stubborn, too. “You know, Tom, I felt it today. Among other things…”

“Forgive me.”

“Nothing to forgive. I understand.”

“No, you don’t... Listen Josh, I don’t need you to protect me. If anything, it should be the other way round. But I do need to feel like I belong in your life. I…I’m not sure I could continue like this.” 

Here, I finally said that. I had been afraid to utter those words aloud, because I knew they were dangerous. I expected another argument to follow, and maybe it would be the last one this time. But he only sighed and I felt him nod lightly against my shoulder. “I guess we need to make some inevitable changes then.”

I knew what he meant, but this was not just about me. And it was not just me who he’d been trying to protect. Himself, too, but also others in a way…

“Are you ready to make those changes?”

“I guess so…” 

We looked each other in the eye once more, trying to communicate the rest. At last I stood up and offered him my hand. “Come on, let me fix you a nice, hot bath.”

“No.” He took it but didn’t move. Instead, he tried to pull me back to bed. 

“No?” “No Tom, come back here, please. Make love to me.” 

He was sooo good at playing with my heartstrings. He really wanted me. He still trusted me. And from the look on his face, he needed me. I climbed back to him, took his face in my hands and kissed it. I traced my parted lips across his cheek and down to his jaw. He was like the oxygen I needed in order to stay alive and I was breathing him in. I continued upwards until our lips finally locked together. It was the first genuine kiss we shared that evening. 

How…?

“Spoon me.” As he lay down, I retrieved the previously discarded tube from the floor, lubed my fingers and cock once again and snuggled behind him. I didn’t rush it, and repeated the process once more that evening. I was nothing but tender this time, but he thought otherwise. He took my hand that was stroking his bare chest, placed it on his neck and tilted his head back. “Choke me.”

“Josh, I…you…” “Shhh, just do it. Please.” And I did. I wrapped my fingers around his throat and pulled him firmly back towards me. It wasn’t harsh. He let himself be completely vulnerable with me and I wanted to cherish it. I just rested my hand there, holding him firmly, but not with too much pressure. I could feel his pulse beating against my palm, every intake of breath. This was different than before. A moment of raw intimacy. He arched his back and reached behind to grab the back of my head. He knows I like that. I rewarded him with slow and deep thrusts, just how he loves it. He was moaning melodically to the rhythm, singing a secret song just for me now, and we rocked in tandem slowly, meeting each other halfway. Nothing else was necessary, this was everything. 

I took control again soon. Quickening my pace, I thrusted into him with a frantic urge. Goosebumps appeared all over his skin, which told me that he was very close. He always got shivers when he was approaching orgasm while I fucked him. Almost as if he was feverish. “Maddening ecstasy” – those were his words with which he once described it. I could feel him tense and tighten around me and rolled my hips once more to hit that perfect spot. “Oh my ggggnnnh Toooooohmmm….,” he let out a high pitched scream and came hard, his whole body convulsing. 

He was literally sobbing. I slowed my movements to a near stop and held his shivering body tight in my arms, waiting for his breathing to slow down. I was just about to pull out when he started moving again against me, urging me to continue, but I grabbed his hip and made him stop. He looked up at me, frowning. “What?” “Are you sure? It’s been a long night…” “No, Tom, don’t worry…come on, go on.”

I moved again tentatively, looking for any clue of his discomfort. He encouraged me again and I gradually resumed my pace. It didn’t take long. With a final groan, I buried my face in his hair, holding his now almost limp and exhausted body pressed to mine while I threshed about in an almost comical way, keeping him swaying in unison with me. We shifted a bit so that he was lying  on his belly now, me hovering above him. With the last few erratic thrusts I filled him up and we finally collapsed together into the pillows. 

We barely moved for at least another ten minutes, limbs still intertwined, eyes closed and our torsos literally glued together with sweat. Both of us simply wanted to prolong the moment, but I was slowly becoming aware of the world around us. We had left the glass door leading to the balcony open and the evening breeze finally pulled us back to reality. 

“Josh?”

“Yeah?”

“I think a few people might have overheard us.” “Uh huh…ok…good.”

“I love you.”

“I know.”

Love sticks, sweat drips Break the lock if it don't fit A kick in the teeth is good for some A kiss with a fist is better than none (Florence and the Machine)

@writingcold @edgingthedarkness @its-interesting-van-kleep @thewritingbeforesunrise @lvnterninthenight @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @takenbythemadness @fleet-of-fiction

#greta van fleet #josh kiszka #josh gvf #gvf fanfiction #greta van smut #greta van fic #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet fanfiction #greta van fleet fanfic #josh kiszka fanfiction #josh kiszka smut #slash fanfiction

[wanderingblindly]

humbly asking for directors commentary on all the starts we cannot see!!! no matter what section, i'll take anything :)

Omg thank you for asking about this fic!!!! I've done one director's cut on this before, where I discussed how it became a soulmate AU on accident, but!

I have more to say! <- personal thesis tbh

My Favorite, Easily Missed Bits:

One of my favorite -- but relatively inconsequential -- lines in the fic is actually the transition between two scenes:

A fist banged against the door, Max guiltily shoved his phone back into his pocket at the noise. Schooling his features, righting his posture, he stepped back into Jos’s version of himself. Another round on the sim, then.  — A gentle rap of knuckles against his door pulled him out of his mind. Standing and straightening his t-shirt nervously, he walked towards the entryway, pulling in a deep breath before opening the door. 

It's a small detail, but I loved how nicely it highlights the very obvious difference between the two of the main forces entering Max's space/life: his father as a demanding, aggressive figure and Charles as a more gentle, understanding one. Somehow it very succinctly shows that Charles doesn't want to bombard into Max's life, doesn't want to burst into his personal bubble and assume he's welcome, which stands in such stark contrast to Jos.

Another small moment/line I really loved is:

He was inviting Max into an important, personal part of him, both into his home and onto his bench. Maybe they were one in the same to him, like Max’s bedroom and his rooftop. To take his hand, to fail at something so important to Charles, could either be that simple? 

Thought this isn't like, vital to the progression of the plot or anything, I really enjoyed how it emphasizes Max's... seriousness, as a person. He wasn't allowed a normal childhood, wasn't allowed anything that would foster lightheartedness or safety, and therefore immediately appreciates the gravity of Charles's vulnerability.

Of course, we don't actually know if Charles feels that way about his piano bench. Perhaps he views it like how some view a kitchen -- welcoming, inviting, a place where everyone he loves should get to be. But to Max, somewhere that belongs solely to you is personal, and I think this scene demonstrates that well. (maybe?)

Regrets About It:

Originally, I fleshed out more of a backstory for Charles! I wanted to use him as a foil to Max in a few more ways, but the plot just didn't end up moving in that direction. Here are some of the character notes I had that, unfortunately, didn't make it in:

Charles has a strong established sense of self; he knows who he is, what he likes, who he loves, etc.. He doesn't feel like he exists at the universe's whims, he is he own person

This was designed to be in contrast to how Max feels like fate just sort of... drags him around and kicks him while he's down. It's not that Max has a victim complex relating to Jos, per se, it's more that he feels helpless to escape the life that fate handed him. He feels doomed to live in the confines of what he's been dealt, whereas Charles doesn't.

However:

He's still fearful that one day he won’t be able to do what he loves anymore (piano), but has reached a stage of acceptance and appreciation for what he has now. His chronic illnesses, though a burden to his loved ones (in his eyes), is just a hurdle he can overcome and find happiness around.

Both Charles and Max have been through immense hardship as it pertains to their goals, passions, and personal lives. I thought Charles being in a positive place of acceptance and self-accommodation (warm clothing, taking breaks when needed, etc.) could contrast nicely to Max, who feels much more... mixed about his situation.

I also had this note, which I don't think really made it into their dynamic. The story, as always, had a mind of its own lol:

Charles is quiet, more of an observer. Max, surprisingly, drives a lot of their conversations. You wouldn’t expect it for someone that has his backstory (which Charles doesn’t know yet), but it’s the people pleasing survival instinct in him

#I hope any of that was interesting to you!!!!!!!! #Thank you again for asking #I'm still so fond of this fic #All the Stars We Cannot See #Lestappen #directors commentary #ask me :)

[lilypadlys]

Burn For You

First in what's hopefully a series of Dewdrop/Reader oneshots under the title, Burn With Me. Very little overarching plot, just a bunch of fun little scenarios. I think he's neat alright? Will include fluff and smut (will be labeled on the post)

Summary: Dew finds his hands full of a crying sibling of sin and has to try his best to comfort them. They both discover there's more to their relationship than they originally thought…

Ship: Dewdrop/Reader

Word Count: 1,545

Rating: General Audiences, SFW

Tags: fluff and angst, love confessions, idiots in love

A/N: Reader is referred to as Y/N and no pronouns are specified. This one is fluff with a bit of angst. Starts with some fighting but ends with fluff and cuddles.

AO3 or below the cut.

Dew knows you’re standing out in the hall steeling yourself. He just waits, taking pride in the knowledge that he can be a pain to deal with. It was part of the game. When you finally rap on his bedroom door, he gives a bored, “What?” without turning away from the TV. When you let yourself in, he doesn’t so much as bat an eye.

“Hey Dew,” fatigue and annoyance are evident in your voice. Dew isn’t paying attention though. “Sister Imperator sent me to tell you that-”

“Do I look like I give a shit?” He snorts playfully and rolls his eyes.

You sigh and try again. “She told me to remind you that your new costume fitting is tomorrow.”

“Okay? So?”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. You’re not in the mood for this today. “So, please remember to show up. I had to reschedule the last one because you forgot.”

“Fine. Whatever." He says boredly. "I don’t see why this is necessary though. I mean, wasn’t the first time good enough?”

“Don’t give me that!” You snap, your flat, tired tone becoming a snarl. “If you hadn’t set the last uniform on fire, there would be no need for a new fitting.”

He turns his head at that. “Alright, geez. Keep your pants on.”

“One-thirty. In my office.” It’s not a question. You turn to leave but Dew is determined to bait you further.

“You doing alright, Y/N?” Dew throws out nonchalantly. “You look like hell. I’m not sure my appearance is the one you should be worried about.” He was looking for a friendly game of cheeky insults. You had thick skin and were one of the best at matching him quip for quip. You normally met his bait by rolling your eyes and throwing it right back at him. His jaw nearly hits the floor in shock when, instead of snapping back, tears well up in your eyes.

“Wha?” He gapes.

“Really?” You’re incredulous. “I can’t with you.” You turn and stomp out the door.

“Y/N, I didn’t mean-”

“Fuck you!” You slam the door behind you and storm off.

Dew is at a loss. He feels terrible. He should have realized to back off. You had lacked your normal playful snark and you seemed exhausted. If your tone wasn’t enough of a clue, the dark circles under your eyes gave it away. He had been told many times that his inability to think things through before acting would get him into trouble. He hadn’t listened.

Obviously.

“Well I’m already screwed.” He mutters. He yanks open his door and runs after you before anything like better judgment kicks in.

Dew catches up just in time to see you slip into your office and firmly shut the door. He hesitates outside, unsure. He wants to apologize, but how? With the ghouls, arguments could be explosive but were settled just as quickly. Offering physical reassurance like back rubs or cuddles paired with an apology was enough to smooth most things over. But would that work for you?

Dew knew that humans could be quite skilled at holding grudges and he didn’t want to risk making the situation any worse. Were you someone that preferred to scream it out or did you need space? He’d obviously hit a raw nerve. Was it too late to make it up?

For better or worse, his need to act takes over and he finds himself knocking on your office door. Immediately he curses, already regretting his impulsiveness.

Inside, you’re sitting at your desk, head in hands. You rub at your eyes, wiping away the tears. You’d already been having a bad day, why did Dew have to go and make it worse? You know he didn’t really mean it. He often said whatever was on his mind but not with the intention of hurting anyone. At least not you. He’d been looking to get a rise out of you to start an easy teasing match. Nothing more. Today though, it was the last straw that pushed your tears over the edge.

When you hear the knock, you stand and brush yourself off. You figured another sibling, clergy member, or even Sister Imperator needed something. It wouldn't do to look a mess in front of them. You open the door and are none too happy to see your current pain in the ass darkening your doorway. To his credit, Dew looks quite remorseful. Still, you have to fight the urge to slam the door in his face.

“What do you want?” You spit.

Dew can’t seem to get his tongue working. You almost do slam the door before he rushes forward and wraps his arms around you. Shock takes the place of your anger.

“Dew?”

“I’m sorry Y/N.” He whispers. The ghoul seemed to have gathered his courage. “I-it was meant to be a joke. You don’t look bad. I mean, you’re gorgeous and-! Uh…shit.”

You both balk. You at the unexpected compliment. Dew upon realizing that he indeed just called you gorgeous. Out loud. To your face.

“D-Dew?” You sputter. He just buries his blushing face in your chest. “Lord below, Dewdrop!”

He glances up, looking remarkably like a scolded puppy.

“It’s okay! You just caught me at a bad time. Uh…umm…”

“I’m sorry!” He says again as he steps back stiffly. “Eh, are you doing okay?” He shoves his hands in his pockets and looks at the floor.

You sigh, and some of the friendly sass you employ with him creeps into your voice. “You serious?” When he blanches you add. “Yeah, I’m fine. I mean. Ugh…no, not really.” Tears prick at your eyes all over again. You hurry to wipe them away, but Dew stops you.

“It’s okay. Let it out.” He soothes, remembering what Cumulus says to comfort him sometimes. He even manages to sound calm, although his expression betrays his panic. He gulps and does the one thing he knows to do and hugs you again.

This time you lean into the hug and allow yourself to cry. Dew just holds you as you sob. You feel him crank up his body heat and the warmth soothes you.

“Shh. It’s okay.” He purrs in your ear. He starts rubbing your back, the physical reassurance seeming to be helping.

Eventually he lets go, only to guide you to the love seat along the wall. You let him steer you over and you sit. As soon as you do, he perches beside you and resumes rubbing your back. You rest your head on his shoulder and he nuzzles the top of your head.

Your tears begin to peter out and your breathing slows and deepens. Once you can speak again, you hum, “Gorgeous huh?”

Dew squeaks. “I-uh-well-”

“You’re not bad looking yourself Firefly.” You sit up to peck him on the cheek. You roll your eyes as his gray cheeks turn lavender. “Also, you make a really good pillow.” You lay down and rest your head in Dew’s lap. He starts to play with your hair and massage your scalp. The feeling of his claws lightly scratching your head has you yawning.

“It’s okay. You can sleep.” He hums.

You know you have work to do, but you’re so tired. “Mmm.” You close your eyes.

Across the abbey, the rest of the ghouls are organizing a search party. The reason? No one has seen hide nor hair of Dew for at least thirty minutes, so of course he’s up to something. Probably arson. Aether starts to pace. After “the incident” it had become an unspoken rule that someone must always know where Dew is and what he’s up to, at all times. Neither Swiss nor Sunny, Dew’s usual partners in crime, have any clue where he is. Aether is getting worried.

Not wanting to invoke Sister Imperator's wrath on the basis of something expensive being destroyed, the ghouls split up to search the ministry. It’s Rain who finds Dew, or rather both of you. He regroups everyone to tell them. When none of them believe him, they all return to your office.

“Aww!” Sunny coos pointing at you and Dew. You’re fast asleep in his lap. He’s been resting his eyes, head leaned back against the wall.

“Told you.” Rain grins.

“So there you are.” Aether shakes his head and smiles.

“Somebody take a picture.” Mountain chuckles.

“Will you all shut it?” Dew hisses, gesturing at you. You start to stir and Dew glowers at his pack mates.

Aether rolls his eyes and walks over. He gently pats your shoulder before sliding his hands under your back to help you sit up. “C'mon. Let's get the two of you to bed.”

Dew doesn’t stop grumbling about the interruption until the two of you are firmly ensconced in the center of a ghoul pile on the common room floor.

“This has gotta be more comfortable than the wall.” You reason. Ensconced in pillows, blankets and the warmth of the purring ghouls around you, you're already drifting off again.

Dew relents and nods. “Yeah.”

You snuggle into his chest and he holds you in his arms tighter.

“Love you Dew.”

He kisses your forehead. “Love you too Y/N.”

#the band ghost #dewdrop ghoul #sibling of sin reader #dewdrop/reader #fluff and angst #love confessions #idiots in love #ghost #ghost fanfiction #lys writes

[nimue-hidden-lake]

Ramuann Loredrop

I wanted to hold off until I wrote their stories but I can't. I must share this... NOW!

Also in case I push self indulgent stuff ahead. I want to provide some context for those stories at least because who knows when I finish their subplot in the CATZ story.

Plus analyzing songs I put in a Ramuann playlist. Working on those and want to share why I associate certain songs with them, this will be fun. But context will be needed so I create this post in advance to always link to in regards to the Ramuda/Ann dynamic.

Anyway click on the cut for the full breakdown! I hope it will be interesting!

Ramuann Dynamic - Ann Character Profile

The question is where to start. Why? Because Ramuda and Ann go way back, before the main story of Hypnosis Mic. Ann had been part of the Chuohku (before officially coming out) a year prior and thus are aware of Ramuda's ties to some degree. They were always aware that he had been working with them and that there was more than one. As far as they knew at first however Ramuda was just their tool, nothing else, and thus they stayed cautious around him, back then as well. They are also somewhat aware of his act, though that is more instinct for a good while.

Even Ramuda knew of Ann prior to any story events yet did not recognize them. This is not just due to them changing their look entirely to fit them personally but also because of them covering their face with a mask and hat. Given their hair being in the way by default it was always difficult to make out their facial features. However, he had heard of them under the name ‘The Executioner’ and amongst Chuohku they were referred to as such. He had never known their true identity. They were known to hit hard and defeat their foes rather quickly, damaging them to the point of near death if not careful. How so? They always attack where it hurts most with words. So before a direct confrontation they would always thoroughly research their target. He had witnessed this preparation and power when having been on a mission with The Executioner, aware of the pattern and rap style.

The only last noteworthy event pointing out between them prior to anything else is Ann's disobedience. Tasked to originally manipulate a scientist they were searching for located in Osaka via the True Hypnosis Mic The Executioner shoved Ramuda aside instead, dealing with it on their own and apprehending said scientist instead and rescuing the cat under the scientist's ‘care’ (that cat is Ole). It got them in trouble yet it is unlikely to be a regret. When Ramuda had asked why they did that they gave him a wishy washy answer. “It was less for your sake and more for my own.” And for a while he didn't know what to make of it let alone thought about it… Only later would he find out what that meant.

Move a few more months forward. The Executioner ‘disappeared’ to who knows where… Well, in truth Ann was kicked out of the Chuohku for disobedience and their Hypnosis Mic was officially taken away (however, Ole had stolen a pair prior to this, unaware to everyone at the time). Their mother is a loyal member and this threw her kid out as a result as well. Ole came along. The two moved in with Eli to live a normal life… On the surface. The three (Ole, Ann, Eli) became a crew of vigilantes known as CATZ yet did not start obvious operations just yet at the time.

Regardless, life was going on as usual until one fateful encounter from afar… Or rather a quick sighting. Because Ann had spotted Ramuda from afar, staring in shock that he was there to begin with. They realize too late that he was staring right back at them. He did not recognize them but had an odd feeling from the get go. They ran off, hoping it would be just that and they will never cross paths again.

This could not be further from the truth. Because Ann sighted Ramuda more than once in Shibuya and he noticed them looking. Before he could say anything though they fled the scene usually and he became irritated, panicked even. By then he had been tossed aside by the Chuohku yet they promised to not hunt him down anymore (thanks to Dice's efforts). However, never be certain if they keep their word. So he classified Ann as a potential threat yet couldn't be certain. Biting the bullet he approached them in hope to get information out of them. Though things became more irritating when they said that ‘they are not a woman’ when he had first called them ‘Onee–San’ , though he noticed quickly that they were genuine about this. It was just something he had to adjust to. And yet he was not sure if he could trust them, given how nervous they acted, as if caught doing something. To get more information out of them he invites them to a date, hoping he can squeeze the information out he needs to determine if they are a threat or not.

Ann is in a similar boat, clearly not trusting Ramuda and proceeding with caution. They just want to get away yet have no option out of this, thus agreeing on the date.

During the date the miscommunication between the two becomes apparent. While to the blind eye they are two people just having some fun it is different in their minds. Ramuda grows frustrated that he cannot get them to slip up for a second. Meanwhile Ann is overly cautious in case Ramuda is still with the Chuohku. It turns into somewhat of a battle… Until Ramuda has yet again the feeling that Ann seems familiar. He looks at them yet can't exactly say why yet, starting to wonder if they met before. In a panic Ann excuses themself and runs home, afraid he will recognize them.

For a few weeks not much happens and Ann avoids Ramuda when seeing him which irritates him to no end. Eventually he already came to the conclusion that Ann is not with the Chuohku but he is still curious who they remind him off. But he can't find answers if they run from him.

Ann in the meantime has their own troubles, especially being still treated as a woman despite the constant reminders they are not. They are close to playing along and losing their resolve… Well, that is until they get into trouble with Ichijiku. However, instead of capturing Ann due to their illegal possession of a Hypnosis Mic they are free to go once defeating her. Or rather ‘defeating’ as Ichijiku provoked them to the point they were just shouting and hitting as many sore spots as possible, going all out in that battle. Then again, maybe that had been her plan all along because ‘If you are put under arrest, you may as well have given it your all. Not like the distraight mess you are now. And why? Because they call you a woman? Hmph, if that bothers you so much and you can't even set that record straight, you don't even have the right to be our enemy! Do you understand!?’

Either way, someone had recorded this and put it on the internet. While most admire this ‘Ann’ and call them badass (and their loud ‘I AIN'T A WOMAN!’ became somewhat of a meme on the internet) Ramuda watches the video a few times… He thinks a little back and it then hit him – This is the exact same style as The Executioner, hit where it hurts. The officer who had suddenly disappeared out of nowhere… Ann is The Executioner. Testing the theory though he decides to face them by himself, just to see if he is correct… Though it is a bit risky since he has to throw his mask away. Well, if he is wrong he can always say that it was a joke.

Thus he strikes them out of nowhere and drags them to a more deserted area where he drops his act, challenging them to a battle… Unless being a coward. Ann sees no other choice, afraid that the Chuohku might strike and accepts. While at first they do not do much to strike back they deliver outta nowhere, almost breaking Ramuda in the process. When he begs them to stop they actually do, realizing they might have overdone it and instead try their best to make sure he recovers instead. It was only then Ann realized they also had been wrong and Ramuda was never a threat either.

It takes a good while but eventually Ramuda comes back to his senses and calms down, confirming that Ann was The Executioner. The two come to talk a little. They eventually realize that they are both formerly affiliated with the Chuohku and cut ties on their own terms. They are now doing their own thing. Two outcasts sharing ties to the Chuohku, it gives them a lot to talk about surprisingly, more than expected and for the first time their conversation is anything but tense.

Though Ramuda's interest has peaked when he does something he is not seen to do, ever. He forgets Ann is there for a moment and starts smoking. He notices too late yet is surprised about their reaction.

‘You don't think it's weird?’

‘It's not healthy but… If you do it, you do it. ‘sides, you're an adult. Of course you can smoke and drink if you like.’

‘...’

‘Heck, I honestly really like drinking. Not exactly healthy either so guess who am I to talk?’

‘...’ Though he can't help but chuckle at the end. ‘Weirdo.’

Before parting ways they exchange contact information.

From that point onwards the two are bonding. Ramuda often invites Ann over for some tea or to just hang out. While they hesitate at first it soon becomes second nature. They talk a lot about the past or mundane stuff, overall just having fun. And while not too much, the two sometimes become involved in more serious business as well, especially regarding the Chuohku or if things get out of hand. Needless to say the two bond and it is not too far off to assume they develop feelings or at least become more aware. And while Ramuda knows quickly what he wants it takes Ann a bit to admit to it. Eli teases them a bit yet they deny having any feelings…

Until Ole asks Ramuda if he could manage to get Ann ready for public operations. When Ramuda first asks why it has to be him, Ole redirects him to the video where they faced Ichijiku. A crowd can be seen, fascinated by Ann and even boosting them. It was only at this moment and the cat assumed this to be their ability, some type of crowd control. But they never used it again, the assumption being their confidence. Ramuda accepts eventually after hearing Ole tried everything he could, though it proved to be difficult. Most are tied to their appearance, primarily their body since it is ‘feminine despite the clothing’. They do not want to be seen and are embarrassed. It is a pain until he lectures them himself.

‘Listen, it's a pain. I get it. But maybe you have to do something too. You beat yourself up for looking ‘too much like a woman’ but that thinking is getting you nowhere. If you want everyone to see you for you, you gotta think that you are you and only you. Then you can show them that you are Ann.’

It was the wakeup call they needed, getting themself to think – Think of themself as ‘Ann’, not ‘a woman’. If it had not been for that input they would have never gotten over this and would have never managed to truly accept the way they are, instead of just saying who they are not. It is shortly after this they truly notice their own feelings for Ramuda.

Does that mean they confess? No, not right away. For a bit the two play a game of ‘not knowing’... Except Ramuda knows. Not wanting any distractions during the second division battle he wants to get this over with quickly. By luck he had been provided a chance where he called Ann out on their lie before confessing to them himself first. They were a bit in shock, not having expected this in any way yet confirmed verbally that they feel the same as him shortly after. This marks the day where the two go from ‘friends / partners’ to ‘lovers’.

Is the relationship a secret? Not really, no. Ramuda makes no effort to hide it much to Ann's dismay. He is so open about it in fact that he even confirmed the rumor of dating someone when being asked directly about it. Yet they quickly came to accept it… Though they'd prefer to avoid the jealous mob of women sometimes.

And that is the entire Ramuann lore. Thank you for reading!

#Nimue's Lake #Nimue's Beloved #Ramuann #f/o community #fictional other community #self ship community #selfship community #self shipping community #selfshipping community #self ship #selfship #selfship lore #self ship lore #s/i x f/o #s/i x canon #f/o x s/i #s/i community #s/i #lore drop #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #canon x oc #oc x canon #hypnosis mic #hypmic #ramuda amemura #amemura ramuda #hypmic ramuda

[damn-stark]

Life underground

Happens during chapter 1 of Cherry

A/N- I forgot how much I love writing for AOT 🥹

Warning- perverted men.

Episode- No regrets part 1

————

“We’re going to be back okay? We just have some business we need to deal with,” Levi shares with you as he grabs your shoulder. “We’ll be back soon.”

You sigh, and offer him and the other two a sad smile. “Okay,” you whisper.

Levi stands to his feet and takes one last look at you to add one last thing. “Behave.” He turns and walks away to talk to the lady that was taking care of you, letting Furlan and Isabel walk to you too.

“Behave,” Furlan tells you. “We won’t be gone long.”

“Promise?” You murmur.

He smiles and nods. “Yeah, cross my heart.” He ruffles the top of your head and walks after Levi.

“Here—”

“Don’t give the girl a pocket knife,” Levi warns Isabel from the front door.

Isabel presses her lips together and groans in protest, but she listens regardlessly. “See you, little sis.”

After Isabel joins the others by the front door, she looks back to wave before she walks out. When the door closes you run over to the front window close to the front door and watch them leave.

Actually you stay there to wait for them to return.

You wait and wait for them to return, you watch people pass by in hopes that your family will return for you quickly. You don’t plan to leave, you never did part away, even if you had snacks or a meal, you liked to have it nearby just so you’d be aware when they returned.

When they did return they always made sure to look at the window, and usually Isabel and Furlan smiled at the sight of you, and Levi, well he always looked nonchalant, you liked to think he was happy to see you. You always were.

One thing they did have to say about it was to be wary and when to know to step away from the window. And usually that meant when the people with the green cloaks, or people with weapons approached the house.

Like now. Instead of seeing Levi and others approach the house you were staying at, this tall dark haired man began to approach the front door, causing you to step away from the window and hide in the sitters room when a knock rapped the door.

As curious as you were to listen to what they wanted, you heeded Levi’s warning and kept hidden and only caught the loud muffled voice that traveled through the house. The sitter’s voice was quiet so you can’t hear her, it’s all him before nothing but approaching footsteps.

At first you think it’s Rose, the sitter, but when the person turned into the room, it was in fact the same cloaked soldier, and Rose was behind him with a spooked expression painted on her face

“Let’s go,” he demanded loudly.

You swallow thickly and look over at Rose and step back as you shake your head in defiance.

The man scoffs and begins to approach you, but you continue to step away until your back hits the wall.

“Don’t be rough with her,” Rose tells him. “She’ll go, just don’t be rough.” She looks at you and takes a few steps towards you. “Y/N it’s okay, go. He’s going to take you to Levi.”

You shake your head. “Levi said no. He said—”

“He said to take you to him,” the soldier cuts you off. “I saw him, he talked to me and told me to come get you.”

He said those words and a part of you wants to believe him, but the other half of you listens to what Levi would continuously tell you about these soldiers, so you stay put and defiant since you have nowhere to run to.

“Tell me, don’t you want to see the sun?” He asks, catching your full attention now. “That’s where we’re going.”

You blink and look at the floor. In your mind you answer yes, but Levi has promised that he was going to take you outside already, him, not this man.

“Fine,” the soldier grows impatient and closes the gap between you to grab you by your wrist and yank you with him.

“No,” you protest. “Let me go!”

“I told you once and you didn’t listen,” he retorts sharply and doesn’t let go. “I’m doing this my way now.”

You look back to ask for help, but Rose stays by her room and doesn't bother looking at you, she just threw her comment at you. “Just go with the man, y/n. It’s okay, he’s taking you with Levi and the others.”

Your eyes linger on her but she keeps averting her eyes. Even as the doors closing her eyes stay away.

“No, please,” you plead and struggle against his hold. “Let me go! Let me go!” You dig your heels in the ground to make it harder for him to drag you with him. However, that little tactic causes him to yank your body up the moment he stops.

“Stop now!” He bellows. “Or I will leave you here!”

Your breath catches in your throat from surprise, but instead of letting him have his way, you instead dig your teeth into his hand, causing the man to yelp and drop you.

The moment your body hits the ground, you quickly get up on your feet and run away from the man cradling his hand, so you can try and run home. You knew the streets well enough to get home—at least that’s what you think.

When you begin running away, passing multiple alleyways and streets all seem the same, it makes you want to stop, but you keep hearing Levi and Furlan’s voice inside your head warning you about danger so you keep running.

You keep running even if your legs begin to grow tired quickly, even if your heart races with how scared you feel. You keep running even if with the rush all the streets look unfamiliar.

You keep running until you turn the last street that actually leads to your house because out of a sudden, your body crashes into another.

“Well, well little girl,” a deep husky voice greets.

You slowly look up and see some big man standing over you.

“Far from home?”

You crawl back to stand on your feet.

Shit.

“Don’t talk to strangers.”

You shake your head in response to the man and want to turn to take a different street, but as you do, you step back into someone else.

“I can take you home,” the other man says.

Your chest heaves and your eyes snap to an opening you can take.

You want to take it, you’re going to try and escape, after all home is down the street.

You actually try and manage to slip past the man in front of you. However, right as you’re running down the street, the men begin to chase you.

You try to run faster, you’re closer to home, you can see it, but right before you can reach the steps you crash into the soldier from before.

“Sorry,” he says to the men as he pulls you behind him. “She’s in her rebellious phase.”

“A soldier with a kid down here isn’t believable, let her go.” One of the men sneered. Yet the soldier snapped back in your defense.

“And you’re perverts with no life, scram before I make it so that you never walk again.”

The men huff and linger where they are for a few seconds before they walk past the soldier. Once they’re long gone the soldier pulls you away from him and begins to drag you with him again as he grumbles to you. “You’re more trouble than you’re worth, you know that? But you got spirit.”

——

*LATER. LEVI*

“…what about your daughter? Cherry?” Erwin continues to add after Levi had stayed too quiet.

Levi’s breath hitches and the two people kneeled beside him gasp and tense at the sound of your name.

“Don’t you want a good life for her?” Erwin continues and only makes Levi’s glare pierce into him more.

“Get her name out of your damned dirty mouth,” Levi growls.

“She could go to school, have friends. She can live with you and your friends in the barracks.” Erwin continues to try and pursue him. “If she gets sick, she could get medicine, she can live longer than she’ll ever live here…”

“Shut up,” Levi sneers.

Erwin lifts his head and shifts his eyes to the other soldiers behind him to give them a discrete signal that tells the soldier that took you to come out of hiding with you in hand.

“I usually don’t like to get children involved,” Erwin tells Levi. “But I knew it’d be difficult.” He sighs and when he finishes talking Levi’s eyes are stolen by you as you get brought out.

“What—”

“Cherry!” Furlan calls

“Hey! Get your dirty hands off her!” Isabel yells.

As you get brought out and approach the group, you catch your family, you catch Levi kneeled down on the dirt, dirty and cuffed next to Furlan and Isabel. It makes you go stiff and grow more terrified than when you were running away.

“Levi?” You call in a quivering voice.

You want to pull away to reach him, but the soldier who has you pulls you back and pisses off the three kneeled figures off more.

“Let her go!” Isabel bellows. “Let her go!”

“I thought you might want to say your goodbyes,” you hear the tall blonde tell Levi. “If you get arrested she’ll stay here and get taken to some dirty orphanage. She’ll never see you again.”

Your breath catches and you can’t stop looking at Levi.

“Unless,” the man continues and then turns to face you. “Come here. It’s okay, I won’t hurt you.” Regardless of the soldier letting you go, you stay put, making the man approach you, and crouch down beside you to offer you a sweet smile.

“Get away from her,” you hear Levi command harshly.

“I’m sorry for what you have to see here.”

You swallow thickly and stay quiet as you slowly avert your gaze.

“Here,” he says and then a yellow flower appears in front of your eyes. “It’s for you. From above ground.”

You slowly lift your eyes to the pretty flower, and then glance at the man briefly before you look back at the flower and let an awe-struck smile appear on your features.

“Above ground there’s a lot more flowers that are all different colors, would you want to see them?” He asks as you take the flower from his fingers.

You meet his eyes and nod.

He grins and stands up to turn back to face Levi.

“What do you think about my deal now?”

.

.

.

.

Tagged- @expectoscamander @greenygreenland @that-soft-lesbian-friend @dai-tsukki-desu @usernamehere91 @avocadopoosae @romancried @victor-criss-bish @moo-moo-meadow @stareatceiling @padfootii @ravensleepyeyes @thanosisadilf @dawneee @babyyblueey @leahseclipse @ifimnotabushimnoone @luvelyxp @ameliabs-world

#fanfiction #damn-stark #cherry #attack on titan fanfiction #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyojin fanfiction #snk #snk fanfiction #Levi Ackerman #levi ackerman x female reader #Levi Ackerman x platonic!reader #Furlan church #Erwin smith

[jetstarred]

what i listened to in march 2024!

total: 8 albums top 3 albums: preacher's daughter (ethel cain), call me if you get lost (tyler, the creator), the michigan left (queef jerky) click read more to see full reviews ^-^

preacher's daughter - ethel cain (2022) - fav song: gibson girl - this is a very beautiful and haunting concept album. i really love the story that's explored here of a girl with religious trauma running away from her family and falling in love with a man she meets, only to be murdered and cannibalized by him. the songs shift through the same group of emotions; longing, fear, regret, hope, and pensiveness. there's some moments that really pull deep at my bones and make me cry. this is more of a country/folk album than i'm typically used to but the rock elements that are included and the grand production are familiar enough for me to enjoy stepping out of my comfort zone. i'm very excited to see the next part in the supposed trilogy of this story. - rating: 9/10

deathmetal - panchiko (2000) - fav song: cut - this is a pretty good shoegaze-y album full of a lot of typical teenage angst. it benefits from the poor mixing and diy garage sound, which makes it feel like a group of friends just got together to make music about their problems. what really elevates this album is the story behind it. this album being so underground and essentially "lost media" that was eventually found and led to the band having a huge resurgence in the past few years is so cool. the rot versions of some of the songs also add a very unique found footage-esque vibe to the whole album that almost makes it feel as if it was part of an arg. overall i think while the content of the album is alright, the fact its so widespread now is a testament to the dedication of music lovers. - rating: 7/10

laisser vivre les squelettes - daïtro (2005) - fav song: laisser vivre les squelettes - i was surprised by this being french (for some reason) but honestly i really liked the sound of it. while i don't love music where the vocals are mainly screaming, this was still pleasant to listen to for me. the music was enjoyable, especially the guitar and the drums. the only complaint i really have was the long spans of just music, which became a little grating at times. the ending of the last song was nice though i liked how it faded out. while i probably won't reach for this album again, it was still very nice to listen to more skrams music and get a feel for what it is. - rating: 5/10

isn't it wonderful - sugar cherry (2023) - fav song: october sky - this a really nice shoegaze-y indie bedroom pop album. its very short and sweet, with the album carrying a lot of feelings of nostalgia and not quite angst. its more so like yearning. as the side project of rozey (someone who hasn't release a lot of music but i like a lot) it was really nice discovering this and the album going in the more lo-fi noisy direction that rozey's been going in with his newer songs. admittedly a lot of the songs sound very similar because of the lo-fi atmosphere but there's enough distinctive elements in each song that can make them stand out after repeated listens. overall i really enjoyed this album! - rating: 7/10

call me if you get lost - tyler, the creator (2021) - fav song: lemonhead - i really like the loose concept with this album. the visuals are very strong so i wish the concept was tighter, but i get that this is tyler's "i made it" album. which i can give him a pass for bragging so much in this album. i think he deserves it. the music in this album is very similar to what's in flower boy and igor, with it very clear this is the style tyler's adapted and evolved as his own. there's much more rapping in this album than in igor, which causes this to be a nice mix of the two previous albums and even cherry bomb. overall i think this album is a very solid follow up to the massive hit that was igor and i am excited to see what tyler does next and if he tries to pivot to doing something new and different. - rating: 8/10

the michigan left - queef jerky (2023) - fav song: farward - as every queef jerky project, this is full of bangers. nick and dev have perfected making good comedy rap that has experimental elements. some of the bars included were really clever while others just made me laugh really hard. the production choices are reminiscent of jpegmafia but in a direction that makes the music have a sort of "contained chaos" atmosphere to it. and some sections really reminded me of breakcore which is a genre i've been listening to more recently. i dig it a lot and i'm soooo excited to hear what they release next. (i'm also legally obligated to disclose i fuck with this album more than any of their other stuff bc of the inclusion of riley from hivemind on every song. sorry america) - rating: 8/10

scaring the hoes - jpegmafia & danny brown (2023) - fav song: shut yo bitchass up / muddy waters - i don't know that much about rap so take what i say with a grain of salt. this album sounds very much like a throwback to older rap but updated with new styles especially that of breakcore and the general experimental hip hop peggy and danny brown are known for. i really enjoyed the production on this and honestly i think the two rappers work really well together. i was already familiar with peggy's music prior to listening to this but i haven't listened to much danny brown. this album def convinced me to go give some of his stuff a listen. the production on this album is really good and i fuck with it a ton! - rating: 8/10

once, but never again - supercollider (2023) - fav song: anyday - this album is very much inspired by shoegaze, taking elements from that and other genres like garage rock, post-hardcore, and post-grunge. its very much a diy album, with not great mixing and vocals that are very poorly recorded. all of this adds to the noisy atmosphere that gives way to the angtsy vibe of the songs. while i didn't love every song on this album, i liked the overall vibe and what they were going for. i see real potential in this band and i'm very interested in listening to their newest album. (after looking at the playlist for the album inspo, i'm not surprised at the presence of mbv, slowdive, deftones, and have a nice life) - rating: 6/10

#its that time of the month bitch! #didnt listen to as much this month cause i was so busy recovering from my busy feb + getting ready for my busy april #but im excited to listen to a ton of new music in april :3 #wilt #jet reviews

[fires-of-ninjago]

Here's the character and prompt

Ronin

Accidental adoption

Sorry this one took so long to finish, but at least it's done! XD

Name: Spare Some Copper? Words: 575 Characters: Ronin, Echo Ships: N/A Warnings: Drinking (implied)

KNOCK, KNOCK “Open up!” A voice called out from the other side of the door, stirring Ronin from his sleep. The bounty hunter groaned as he opened his eyes…and then immediately regretted it. 

“Uuuuuugh, my head,” he groaned out. He glanced over at his coffee table to see his med-kit laying empty as memories of last night started flooding his mind. He was about to start looking into where his house guest was, when another round of bangs came rapping at his door…or maybe it was his head threatening to crack open?

“Alright, alright, I’m coming!” He muttered as he got up and pulled the door open. “What the hell do you want?” He asked. The constable’s eyes went from annoyed to surprised as he looked Ronin up and down.

“Ah, well, I-Ronin, why the hell are you in your underwear?” Ronin looked down to see what he was talking about, only to realize that he was indeed wearing nothing but a t-shirt and boxers. He would have found it funny, if he wasn’t so damn hung-over. So instead, he crossed his arms as he leaned against the door frame while shielding his eyes.

“I just woke up, now whadda ya want, Kunnai?” The constable rolled his eyes as he motioned to the dull-copper boy standing behind him. Ronin finally perked up as he realized what was going on.

“Your cupboards were empty of any nutritionally-substantial food-stuffs. I merely left to procure some for when you woke up.”

“What?”

“Look Ro, I caught him shop-lifting, and he’s claiming that he’s staying with you. So…” Ronin rubbed his eyes partly in annoyance as he cut his old friend off.

“Look, he’s my responsibility for now, so just have lil’ Nami put whatever he took on my tab.” The pair blinked as he realized what he’d just said.

“Wait, let me get this straight! You’re saying you’re fostering-” Something snapped in him as he heard that word; and suddenly, all of his exhaustion and brain fog disappeared as he straightened up his posture.

“-Yeah, Kunnai, so what if I am?” He said before he could stop himself. “His father is an elderly man who’s gone missing, and he doesn’t have any other family that I’ve been able to locate. I’ll adopt him if I have to, but I’ll be damned if you’re gonna try and lock ‘em up with a high bail until I can locate his family!” His old friend took a step back at the sudden change in Ronin’s demeanor. 

“What the hell Ronin? Does the kid have a bounty on his head or something?” He eyed the rusting Nindroid with suspicion as the bounty hunter held out his hand. Echo, for his part, gave a silent gasp as the realization dawned on him.

“Really?!” He asked; “You’ll really help me find my father!?” Ronin felt his heart skip a beat as he realized exactly what he’d just said. 

“Um, well-”

“-Of course he will!” Kunai jumped in, cutting-off his friend. Ronin was about to rip him a new one, but seeing Echo just a second before he pulled him into a crushing hug stopped him.

“Y-yeah,” he started, “I guess I am-” 

“THANK YOU SO MUCH! Of course, I promise to make myself useful in our search!” The bounty hunter gave his grinning friend an annoyed glance as his new ‘son’ ran back inside of his shop.

“I will get you for this Kunnai.”

#Prompt Game #Jack Answers #Ninjago #Ninjago Ronin #Ninjago Echo #Echo Julian

[catcas22]

Unalloyed Part 11

Another short interlude chapter. In the next/final chapter, Malenia and Millicent finally get to have their talk.

Trina’s Lily. A pale purple water lily that is on the verge of wilting.

A symbol of faith in St. Trina.

Dulls the senses, preventing agitation.

            Miquella wove the band of unalloyed gold across Malenia’s good hand, wrapping around each finger and crisscrossing down her wrist. The fine mesh melded to her scars like a second skin.

            They had been remarkably fortunate.

            Millicent had finished the battle with a few bruises, a cut across her cheek, and the skin taken off her knuckles -- a remarkably light price for a duel with Malenia the Severed. He’d still insisted on sending her to one of the Haligtree’s healer-knights, and to his surprise she hadn’t argued. She seemed more than eager to leave Malenia’s presence.

            It was a shame that her first encounter with her mother had involved mortal combat. Perhaps that was why Millicent had seemed so subdued when they parted ways.

            He carefully placed Malenia’s hand back on the bed, pulling the blankets up over her shoulders. With Loretta’s help, he’d carried her up to her old room, settled her into bed, and administered as strong a soporific as caution would allow.

            As far as he could tell, her sleep was both peaceful and dreamless. He slumped down in the chair he’d pulled up by her bedside, resting his hand over hers. It almost didn’t seem real. For once, it seemed that everything would work out for the better.

            Armored knuckles rapped the doorframe. He waved in acknowledgment, motioning for Loretta to pull up a chair.

            The knight accepted the invitation, resting interlaced fingers on her knees. “Is she well?”

            “She will be.” Miquella looked up, breaking the companionable silence. “I owe you my thanks. You were a guardian to my people when I could not be.”

            Loretta inclined her head, brow furrowed pensively. “I would ask a favor of you.”

            “Of course. Anything that is within my power to grant.”

            “I need new legs.” She rapped her knuckles against her knee. “These have served me well, but they won’t withstand a long campaign.”

            Understanding dawned. “You aren’t staying.”

            Loretta remained silent for a long moment, eyes clouded with memories long past. “When I was knighted, I swore two oaths. The first, to defend the innocent and uphold justice. The second, to serve the house of Caria. When the Academy fell and my people were left without a protector, I chose the first oath over the second.”

            She met his gaze with eyes like iron. “Do not misunderstand me. I do not regret my choice. Nor am I renouncing my allegiance to the Haligtree. But I have been gone from Liurnia longer than I ever intended, and now that you have returned, I default to my second oath.”

            “What is it you mean to do?”

            “I will gather any who will follow me, and I will return to the Lands Between.” There was not a shadow of bravado in her voice, only a firm statement of fact. “I will lay siege to Raya Lucaria. I will hang any man who bears the ensign of the Cuckoo. If Princess Ranni still lives, I will seat her on her mother’s throne, and if she does not, then I will crown Rykard’s heir.”

            She stood and turned toward the door, firm conviction in her voice. “Your return is a good omen. The tide is finally turning. The next time your knights foray into the Lands Between, know that you have friends in Liurnia.”

#elden ring #fanfic #unalloyed fic #mothman miquella #elden ring miquella #malenia blade of miquella #elden ring millicent #royal knight loretta #angst #hurt/comfort

[radio-navlee]

Whos the big man?

Fandom: DSMP MCYT!!

Characters: Lee!Jschlatt Ler! Wilbur

Summary: Schlatt needed some help with stuff and asked Wilbur to help. Wilbur finds out something about Schlatt.

We love some Lee Schlatt 😍 Also credits to  @covenofwives  (little lazy) (idk read it?)

Schlatt seemed like the kind of person to watch you trip and then laugh in your face! With no regrets! So when he comes to ask for help, you really wouldn’t expect it!

“Hey uh, Wilbur?” Schlatt walked up to Wilbur, who is sitting down on a bench, and looked up surprised

“Woah, you need something, Big Man? somethings not right!” Wilbur pointed out, Schlatt noticed, and fixed himself quickly.

“Huh? Oh! Nothing! I just needed help with something...” 

“Sure! What’s up Big Man?” Wilbur scooted over for Schlatt to sit down, Schlatt smiled and sat down. Feeling comfortable Schlatt asked

“So I was getting something from my under my sink and when I came up I bumped my horn on the top of the sink, and a bit chipped,” He said embarrassed holding out a chipped piece from his horn. Wilbur looked at it, it wasn’t a big chip but it wasn’t small either, it was about the size of his hand

“Oh, are you ok? Did it hurt-” Wilbur started to ask questions, worried about his friend, when Schlatt cut him off

“DONT make it a big deal! and yes it did hurt!” Schlatt said angrily

“Ok ok! what do you need help with though?” Wilbur asked

“This is where the embarrassing part comes in” Schlatt sighed

“You know how to fix things right?” Wilbur nodded

“Ok well, can you help me fix...well this!?” Schlatt’s cheeks blush from embarrassment.

“Sure man! Do you have anything I can “fix” it with?” Wilbur asked

“...Yeah, here” Schlatt handed Wilbur an unlabeled bottle, it looked like glue?

Schlatt stood up looking back at Wilbur giving a look that showed he wanted him to follow. Schlatt walked into some forests that Wilbur had never seen. Schlatt sat down on the forest floor indicating wanting Wilbur to sit down behind him.

“Where are we?” Wilbur asked

“Don't worry about it,” Schlatt said. Wilbur sat down behind Schlatt and began to start the “fixing process”. Wilbur took another look at the bottle to find some instructions written on the bottle with a sharpie.

1. Put subscene onto broken/chipped piece

2. Wait till almost dry,

3. If almost dry place the piece back onto the horn

4. Rub the horn to take off any unwanted glue, make sure it sticks

5. Rap horn with a bandage to keep in place

6. wear the cast for a few days to make sure it’s well fixed.

Looked easy enough, Wilbur made small talk with Schlatt while he waited for the glue to dry. Schlatt loosed up and started to become regular Schlatt.

“Ok I’m going to place it onto the horn now,” Wilbur warned Schlatt, Schlatt got anxious again going back to worried Schlatt.

“...”

“Annnnnnddd! done! Wasn’t that easy-” Wilbur looked over to Schlatt to find him with his hands covering his face giggling,

“Just gehehet it overheher with!!”

“With what?” Wilbur asked confused continuing to fix up his horns,

“Fihihihixing ThehehEHEHEM!! EEEEEE” Schlatt squealed when Wilbur started to scratch the glue off. Wilbur stopped

“Schlatt? You never told me you were ticklish!?!!!” Wilbur asked excitedly

“Youhohou  never asked heheHA!” Schlatt giggled trying to play it off.

‘I guess I just never needed to!” Wilbur teased starting to scratch right where the horns met the head of the ram, a little next to his ears. That made Schlatt go crazy!

“NAHAHAHA WAAAAAIIT!! EEEEK!! NOHOHO STOP STOP WILBURRHERERER!!!!!” Schlatt Franticly blurted out from the tickly sensations.

“Whos the big man now Schlatt?” Wilbur whispered into Schlatt's left ear which surprisingly was more sensitive than his right, Schlatt's ear twitched repeatedly.

“AAAAAAAHAHAAA!! WILBUR WILBUR PLEASEHEHEHESSS!!! I’LL DO ANYTHING!! EEEEE” Schlatt begged.

“No no, this is pretty cute what we have going on here!” Wilbur joked, Schlatt turned red at the comment. Now, Schlatt had never called cute, let alone while he is getting wrecked, oh no no no there’s no coming back from that! “Awe little rammy boy ticklish?? awe baby rammy boy? tickle tickle!!” Wilbur's teasing seemed to never stop...

(Ghost out!)

#mcyt tickle #dsmp tickle #sfw twords #lee!jschlatt #ler!wilbur #tickle #tickles #tickle story #ticklish!jschlatt #tickle fanfic #finally finshed

[presidentstalkeyes]

Another one for the OC backlog! I uploaded two versions purely because Tumblr kept blowing up the first image and making it look all grainy and awful. :V

Growing up in a poor part of Vancouver, Gisu and Rody were best friends for as long as they could remember. They first met in preschool, after Rody's parents had another fight and she was hiding away from everyone, and Gisu cheered her up by tobogganing down the playground slide and trying (and failing) to front-roll off the end.

For years, they spent almost all of their free time together, whether that was climbing over increasingly piled-high objects, competing in mock-rap battles, making fun of Gisu's brother's boring-ass stories, or stealing the mean girls' fashion dolls and burning them with an industrial blowtorch. Their true ambition, though, was to make it big in the skateboarding world.

Rody was present for the night that Gisu discovered her psychic powers - out hours past bedtime, attempting to pull a sick gap at the docks, she choked after making the jump and would have smacked into a wall of water had she not stopped herself from colliding at the last second.

Rody was conflicted - she'd heard stories from her parents about psychics, especially her dad, who always seemed to have a different conspiracy theory every day ('psychics are being used by the CIA to spy on us!' 'Psychics run the CIA!' 'The Psychonauts run the world!' 'The Psychonauts are puppets of the Illuminati, who are also psychics!' Etc etc.). She knew of course that her dad was crazy, and Gisu was her friend, but still, psychics did have a lot of power, and surely not all of them would use it wisely, right?

Gisu's family seemed to be accepting, and over time she became more and more interested in learning about her powers. Rody tried to be supportive (and they did have fun at first, laughing at the dumb things her dad said about psychics), but she'd have been lying if she hadn't been annoyed at how much time Gisu spent at home or at the library, reading books about psychic mumbo-jumbo that she'd never understand in a million years, and she felt increasingly sidelined. It didn't help that her family situation had only gotten worse and she didn't really have any other friends besides Gisu.

Things reached a breaking point when, just weeks away from a big skating contest they had both been practising for, Gisu received a letter from the Psychonauts, accepting her to be fast-tracked into the Intern program (due to her age, she was ineligible to attend Whispering Rock, so she instead took a series of written and practical exams to demonstrate that she had the required understanding of psycho-safety). This was the first time Rody had heard about this. The two of them had a huge fight. Neither of them handled it particularly well. Rody accused Gisu of trying to ditch her because she didn't have any 'cool powers'. Gisu admitted she didn't tell Rody because she 'knew [she'd] be all weird about it' and accused her of being 'clingy' and having no life outside of their friendship.

They still entered the skating contest, and Gisu won first prize. Ordinarily Rody wouldn't have cared, but after their fight, it was the final straw. Wanting to hurt Gisu as much as she'd been hurt, she went up on stage and accused Gisu of cheating using her psychic powers, outing her as a psychic in front of over a hundred people. As psychics were forbidden from competing in the competition for this exact reason, she was disqualified. She ran home in tears.

Rody regretted it almost immediately, but it took her a whole week to work up the courage to try apologizing. But by then it was too late; Gisu had already left to join the Intern program. They haven't spoken to each other since.

Gisu still thinks about her old friend sometimes; sometimes she thinks she was to blame for what happened, other times she thinks Rody was a toxic influence all along and she made the right decision to cut her out of her life. Mostly she just tries not to think about her at all.

She'd be lying if she said Dion didn't bring back some unpleasant memories.

#psychonauts #psychonauts 2 #psychonauts oc #gisu nerumen #headcanons #Stalkeyes Art #angsty stuff #Rody's whole deal was gonna be touched on in Intern-al affairs too #once I get around to it #Gisu's story is planned to be the second chapter so :V

[lemonhemlock]

"Because it seems that the showrunners don't care about nuanced adaption but more motivated by their personal feelings about certain characters. It's clearly they dislike Aegon/Daemon/Larys/Viserys don't care about Helaena/Daeron/Rhaenys/Laena/Rhaena/Baela this why these characters have been either made much worse than their book counterparts or are non existing/ underdeveloped as hell. While they clearly like Aemond, Alicent and Rhaenyra that's why they have been made much better than their book counterparts. And if i remember correctly Daeron was supposed to be cut out from the show and this is the reason why no body mentioned him at all not even his mother and his dutiful and honourable personality was given to Aemond, who was objectively the most similar character to Ramsay/Joffery. Now i am not saying that they shouldn't sympathize with Alicent. What i mean by all of this is given Aegon/Larys/Daemon (and the rest of the characters I've mentioned) nuanced interpretations can coexist with their interpretation of Aemond and Alicent." Okay expecting all characters to be the same as in book is plain naive. Even I after reading Asoiaf didn't expect the show to be better than books and I was right because GoT did many characters different than in books (Cersei, Jaime, Tyrion, Euron, Stannis, Tyrells and Martells in general were done terribly compared to books, Littlefinger in books is totally different and much more smart than in show, Varys in the books is also not the same as from the books, Tywin is more terrible in books than in the show) and when it comes to GoT they have actual povs from books, what could go wrong in adapting these books to show? While hotd is a show based on a book that are told by different people and none of them witnessed what exactly happen and yet some people are whining why it's different? They developed Alicent and Rhaenyra because they are there for 10 episodes. Aemond/Aegon/Rhaena/Baela will have more screen time in season 2. That's why Tom himself said that just because Aegon is shown in certain way in 2 episodes in season 1 doesn't mean he is totally not worth rooting for. We don't know what he will do in 2 season, so we still have plenty of time to root for him, especially after b&c happen. He will be there almost until the end of show so I doubt he will spend all of time rap*** maids and we will see him in different light because he will go through much pain after being burned by Meleys and death of his sons and brothers. At the end, all he will have would be Alicent. We just have to wait and not be mad at the show for ruining certain characters when it's just the beginning of the show and they will all change after war begins. As for Daeron, George himself said he regrets he wasn't in the show, but there was no time for him in 1 season and he will appear in 2 season which is understandable because there were only 10 episodes and it's impossible to develop every character in 10 episodes. We know Rhaenyra, Alicent, Daemon, Otto, Criston and Aemond motivations. In 2 season other characters will have their time to shine, including Aegon. Part 4

While hotd is a show based on a book that are told by different people and none of them witnessed what exactly happen and yet some people are whining why it's different?

they're not whining it's different, necessarily, they're whining it's disproportionately biased towards rhaenyra. the changes performed weren't neutral. the tenets of medieval common law during feudalism were not properly laid out (although otto attempts to do so in "second of his name"). stannis, asoiaf's resident legalist, specifically calls rhaenyra a traitor and a usurper, yet hotd frames aegon as the usurper. people parrot back the "king's word is law" argument and think they're harvey specter from suits. king stephen and the nobles who supported him send their regards, i guess.

That's why Tom himself said that just because Aegon is shown in certain way in 2 episodes in season 1 doesn't mean he is totally not worth rooting for

to be fair, what is tom supposed to say? he's stuck between a rock and a hard place here. "no, don't root for me, aegon is trash, only send me hatemail"

#ask #anon #hotd critical [storytelling]

[sinisterexaggerator]

Stars Above! | Cad Bane

Chapter  11

Fandom: Star Wars / Rise of the Empire Era / Post Bad Batch / Post Order 66

Explicit: Eventual Smut, Slow Burn, Gratuitous Smut, Porn with Plot, Canon-Typical Violence, Mildly Dubious Consent, Angst, Tatooine Slave Culture

This chapter: Cunnilingus, fingering, kissing, blood, threats of violence, Huttese curse words, and regret. 

AO3

《 Previous Chapter ||   Next Chapter 》

  Zulara had cried and cried once Cad Bane had left, throwing herself into her pillows. She always thought her first time would be different, that at least the person would have stayed with her, or reassured her that it had meant something.

Instead, he had prattled on about his little droid, the one who had nearly been her downfall. He had business to attend to, more important than keeping this girl company.

She did the unthinkable. She comm called Hondo. “Come back,”  she had demanded of him, the pirate having given her his private frequency at the weapon’s shop. She wouldn’t have, but she was desperate for more attention, having never got her fill. It was all his fault – he drove her to it. She hadn’t lied in the beginning, but now his own negligence would be his quick undoing.

Hondo did not question her or make up an excuse; he was there within the hour to lightly rap upon her door. She had dressed, cleaned herself, then sanitized the floor. She sprayed some perfume about the room, masking any trace of her recent rendezvous, yet she had forgotten one very important thing: Cad Bane’s many markings.

She fluffed her hair, then adjusted her meager nightgown. It was light pink; simple; knee length with strappy sleeves. It complimented her skin’s pigment and made her eyes stand out. She didn’t wear it to be sexy, or to flaunt or clout.

“What made you change your - Zula! What happened tu you?! You’re covered en-” The pirate could not finish his inquiry, cut off in the middle of his sentence. She flung her arms around him; she kissed him with unbridled passion. Zulara dragged him to the bed, tugging at his stolen coat. He sat down with her, then she pulled him into a rather forceful hug.

“Will you hold me?” she pleaded, her varied hues studying him as her body pulled away; she left him longing for her. He was beside himself. He would be a fool not to, though the bites along her throat, the part of her chest that was exposed, her naked shoulders …

“You don’t even have tu ask, but dearheart … you look like you’ve been attacked by some kind of wild animal. I’m failing tu understand what exactly-”

Zulara kissed him again just to shut him up; she forced herself inside his mouth. Unlike Bane, the Weequay was warm – his tongue was thick, substantial - she moaned into his lips, then crawled onto his lap. The girl didn’t even know what had come over her, only that she had been left desiring more.

Hondo pried himself away, thinking something was suspicious. He didn’t mind this yearning for him by any means, but wasn’t able to pin her motives. Hondo was precise; methodical. He liked to take things slow; he was an adept lover made to please, though Zulara was practically throwing herself at him.

He took her chin up between his forefinger and his thumb; he held her there to look at him. Her eyes were watering, Hondo’s tone taking on notes of earnest, his voice grave, low, and sober. “Zulara, what es wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.” Twin tears fell down each of her cheeks respectively, wetting Hondo’s hand. He frowned at her, though kept her static. Her lower lip quavered though she tried to hide it. The pirate sighed, shaking his head somberly.

“Et’s Bane, esn’t et? Dhose are his …” - Hondo grimaced, disgusted by it - “Teeth marks, aren’t dey? I have seen. dis. before,” he claimed, though not bothering to elaborate.

Zulara pouted; she prized her chin loose without much effort. She batted his hand away, moving in close to him again. Instead of pressing her lips against him, she placed her heart, her breasts, her entire chest across his own, her arms encircled him as tight as they could go.

She laid her face down on his armored shoulder; she wept into him, ashamed of herself and her own neediness, or whatever it was that had overtaken her - residual energy; anger; ten different types of lamentations and frustrations.

“I’m sorry!” she blurted out, her words muffled against his coat and its metal plating.

Hondo mulled it over; he wondered if he should care. This was fortunate for him, as things were shifting in his favor. Yet, Zulara was femininity personified, though her master used her in ways he did not quite approve of. It was hard being a pirate and to have scruples of any kind, or to judge others when you were capable of worse.

But Bane - he was ignoble, a scoundrel, a ruffian who left a trail of death and heartache behind him in his wake - the tasks he performed for credits were known to be amoralistic, and Hondo would be aware of this better than anyone, as they had joined together for a hairbrained scheme of his.

To expose this girl who was gentle, kind, and somewhat faint of heart to a depraved Duros of Cad Bane’s caliber … He was starting to regret having ever come across her - the bet he had placed against him out of lust and lurid thoughts - however, Cad was a predator, an avid competitor, and Hondo had felt that in the moment he wasn’t doing a disservice, but the more and more he saw Zulara as a person and not another woman to abate his ardor…

Things were becoming increasingly difficult for him by the microsecond.

The more he could cajole her away from Bane, the better off she’d be: that was Hondo’s logic; the reason for this alternative thought process, and his newfound personal discrepancies. For her sake - though he would enjoy it, nonetheless.

“Don’t cry my dear, et doesn’t suit you.” He adjusted, finding it hard to suppress his appetite in the cerebral sense as well as physical with Zulara still straddled atop his lap. Her generous bosom was now acquainted with his chest, Hondo lifting his hand arrayed in expensive jewelry, his tough, yet gentle fingers bending in a slight caress across her tear-stained cheek.

“Du you want tu talk about et, or du you want me tu kiss you instead? I don’t mind either one.”

As if only now realizing her provocative position across the Weequay’s lower half, to his disappointment she got up and instead sat down beside him. Her brow was heavy in her displeasure. Whatever Bane had accomplished, he had done a number on her. Hondo was no stranger to picking up the pieces of women scorned. Some of the best lovemaking in the galaxy occurred often out of spite, or a “rebound” one might aptly call it.

“I suppose I should be embarrassed. I feel stupid. Like maybe I would have meant something. He– I … I’d never lain with a man before, and… ”

“You mean tu tell me Cad Bane was your first?” Hondo was a mite surprised.

“Y-yes.” Zulara cast down her eyes. She couldn’t bear to look at him, wondering what Hondo might think of her and her naivety.

“And he left you?” He put two and two together easily. Bane was not here, yet Hondo was. What a perfect opportunity to make a profit of another sort. But he was slightly disappointed in the man; he should know better.

“I know I shouldn’t have. I know he’s … But he didn’t know it was me. I thought for sure he was going to …”

Hondo gingerly placed his palm across Zulara’s thigh; it was bare, warm, and silky. He tried his best to respond as kindly as he could while keeping his deplorable thoughts on hold, though no worse than any other man’s in this situation.

“What can I say, Cad.. es a Cad! I am sure he picked dat namesake for a reason. I du not tink I need tu tell you dat es most likely not his nomenclature upon birth, though I am not sure Duros are even born en de traditional sense– eggs, I hear, but dat’s beside de point.”

Hondo turned towards her; he pressed the edge of his own knee against hers. He was careful not to spook her, though Zulara seemed not to mind. “For any man tu deflower a woman, for him not tu give a piece of himself back, what treachery dat es. Especially one so deserving of affection as you, my sweet.”

Zulara’s lip began to tremble; she felt like she might cry again. She felt so used by everyone around her. Her father, Kayson, and now Cad Bane. Maybe Hondo was truly different; he seemed to show genuine concern. “I only wanted him to stay, to hold me, just for a little while. I didn’t think it much to ask.  I know I'm not worth much to anyone. I had only hoped that ..."

The poor girl sighed. She hummed a little to herself to keep from burdening the pirate with more of her complaints, cutting herself off midsentence as her nails dug into the fibers of her gown.

“Zu-la-ra… Dat’s not true. You just haven’t found de right man, or woman, tu appreciate you, dat’s all. And you should not expect a … person like dis bounty hunter tu be de one tu do so. Half de time he sees others as mere money tu be made, not individuals with deir own hopes and dreams; fears; cares.”

Hondo refitted his palm to the shapely cut of Zulara’s sateen cheek, his ridged fingers lightly stroking her malleable flesh, unlike his. The Weequay’s skin was hard as Bantha Rock, a formation located in the desert upon Tatooine itself, though it calmed her nerves as well as his soothing voice; it could easily hypnotize, or lull her into a more receptive state of mind.

“Sometimes I wonder if the whole galaxy hates me. If perhaps my entire existence would be better off unled. I don’t see the point in anything.” The girl had, without noticing, nuzzled the pirate’s hand, impressing her pliant skin against his callous outer shell.

“Hush, now…” Hondo’s lips flitted against Zulara’s. He was delicate as he could be. His dark tan digits found her raven hair; he brushed it behind her ear, the one still free gently moving to rest along the small of her clothed back. The feel of the fabric, the softness of its single corrugation would hardly be an obstacle for him.

“Let me attend tu you. I can make you forget all about Cad Bane.”

“I’m not sure I-” Zulara began, though Hondo carefully escorted her to lie back upon her mattress. She found herself unable to demur as he kissed her along her neck and shoulders first. The half-Twi’lek shuddered, goosebumps rising along her epidermis for the second time that very evening, though for different reasons. She wasn’t sure what he was up to, but her thoughts were clouded, her judgement loosening its feral hold and Hondo virile in his attempts to woo her.

Her gown had risen of no volition of her own; her breath cut in, sharp, uncertain of what was happening, though Zulara had a thought to let it go - a moment that lasted for some time - much occurred in the span it took for her to decide on what to do.

“Tell me ef you wish for me tu stop,” Hondo murmured against her now naked breasts. He handled each in turn with a careful fondness, his mouth mooring against one nipple longer than the other as he sucked diligently in a tease. He had left them both erect as his lips returned in sweet, gratifying sprinkles of enthusiasm across her sternum, down her stomach and to her belly button. His tongue entered the divot that existed there, a taste of what was to come as it broached the edge, Hondo lapping once with the furling of his fleshy tool.

“H-Hondo…” Zulara reached out to touch his frills with her outstretched fingers; he was sly in his redirection. He lifted his chin briefly to kiss her along her knuckles before he entwined his own among hers. He halted her mild protest with ease as he returned to his salacious mission, not giving her any more time to speak.

“Hmm?” Ohnaka savvily pushed Zulara’s simple undergarments down the one or two inches it would take to access her throbbing sex. The girl was wet, though he didn’t smell the Duros. He imagined she might have bathed for him, a kind gesture, though it wouldn’t have stopped him in the scheme of things.  

“Please.”  The girl’s heart was fluttering. She could not deny her arousal. But this felt wrong. She wasn’t a slut, another flirty girl of her mother’s species. She had ethics; ethos; two men in one night was …

Hondo waited at the vertex of her downy curls like a gentleman. Her words were caught. The Weequay spread her lower lips apart with the apex of two ribbed digits when an appropriate amount of time had passed. The thickset muscle living in his mouth unwound painfully slow as Zulara watched, entranced, the air in her lungs hitching as he finally made contact with her cunt.

He wasted no time at all in tasting her. His tongue intruded, entering the moist crevice of her womanhood. He bore inside, moaning audibly before his entire tongue trailed to the top of her soft mound, having traveled across the full length of her seeping slit.

“Mmn…” The man sighed out, his nostrils flaring as he released a heavy breath of air against her skin that made Zulara quiver. The acme of his implement teased the tip of her pert clit. His free hand crept lower as he released her folds, a duo of broad fingers slipping inside her body’s hollow – the ones that had lost their rings in Kayson’s Sabacc game.

He flicked her blushing bud, only interrupting himself to pucker his thin lips around it. The stout extremities within were focused on one thing only - the center of her species pleasure - much like humans, Hondo was experienced in a plethora of things, and this was only one of them.

Zulara cried out in abject desire; she tried to bury her face in the confines of her cushions. Her breasts rose rapidly as she panted, the girl quite restless as Hondo continued his measured dance.

She finally caught up to herself moments away from peaking. Fuck, it felt so good… but all she could claim to think about; all she could admit to seeing was that accursed bounty hunter’s face in her mind’s eye.

“Wait, s-stop…”

Hondo retreated partway from her; he removed his fingers with a savory sound. His deep gray eyes looked up and into hers from behind his goggles, a hint of fog dissipating from the transparisteel inlaid within their frames. “Are you certain, darling?” he asked, knowing quite well that she had liked it.

“I can’t.” She withdrew her legs into herself, curling into a tiny ball of pink lace and orchid skin. She bawled into her arms, overcome by guilt and anger; she didn’t want to do this to him … “Please, leave! I’m sorry I called you here! I’m sorry I’m such a mess! I only ask you keep this to yourself.”

Hondo wiped his mouth off on the back of his red coat at the base of his right sleeve. He simply stared at her for a few laggard minutes, feeling awful for her, and terrible about himself. “Zulara, I never meant…   You care for dat man, don’t you?”

She only shook her head, affirming his suspicions. She couldn’t speak at first, but she knew it wasn’t Hondo’s fault. She had led him on.

“Hondo… will you…” Her eyes peeked out, filled with salty tears. “All I wanted was…”

Hondo crawled upward along her bed. He got comfortable, then patted his white tunic. Zulara inched forward and laid her head against him, listening to the Weequay’s internal rhythm, his heartbeat that would force her to calm down.

“Forgive me,” he stated plainly, tenderly fondling her dark locks. Despite all this, Hondo was not a quitter – it paid off to be patient - he would only give her as much as she asked of him. No more, no less.

His final thought finished as a whisper, talking to no one but himself. “But as tu why, l will never know.”

That was a lie.

---

“Thought you were dead,” Boba Fett casually offered up in conversation.

“Don’ keep dhat droid around fer ‘is personality,” Cad Bane nearly hissed.

Brainee was at the helm of the peculiar posse’s landspeeder, Greedo on the passenger’s side and to the right adjacent, nursing his wounded leg. Cad Bane and Boba sat facing one another in seats that were parallel, though Cad had taken to the back, keeping a steady eye on all three of them, untrusting as he was.

Their destination was Jabba’s Palace. Fett had been kind enough to give Bane water to quench his thirst, but he volunteered little in explanation as to the reason for his summons. He was always “helping those in need,” and Bane trusted him enough. Poisoning the Duros wasn’t in his wheelhouse. Besides, it could damage his reputation.

This wasn’t the first time Cad had dealt with the slug-like being who claimed to be the overlord of Tatooine, and he was sure it wouldn’t be the last, but Bane did not appreciate being detained on such short notice, though it was easier than bothering to duke it out should he refuse.

“Werkin’ fer de Hutts dhen, are ye."

“Here and there; It’s a job,” was Boba’s straightforward answer.

“Hope yer naht killin’ innocent people, Boba. Would hate te hear ye turned into a hypocrite.”

Boba gazed out beyond him and towards the sand dunes; he contemplated before saying anything. “I only take bounties as I see fit. Jabba allows me to make myself comfortable in his court as I am useful to him.”

“Used more like it.” Cad Bane dipped into his pocket; he removed a toothpick. He chewed it absentmindedly, preferring to occupy his mouth to keep him from saying something more offensive, though he was oh-so-tempted to blow his brains out.

“How old are ye now. Suspect ye growned up unda’ dhere, hm?”

Boba lifted both his arms up – he left himself open for a moment - Cad could feel his fingers itching to pull the trigger on his LL-30’s. He somehow managed to refrain.

The face that was revealed to him was of a young Jango Fett. He looked so much like his early mentor it was disarming. The boy had become a man in the last five years, their latter meeting having been when he was only fourteen years of age – it felt longer. Time often flied when you least expected it.

“I’m 18 this year,” Boba claimed.

Bane couldn’t think of anything to say as he studied his dark skin, his wavy hair; his eyes roved to the dent along his helmet knowing he himself had been the one to put it there. Had he been any other creature, perhaps he wouldn’t have seen Fett in such fine detail at this hour of the night, though the vision of a Duros was distinctive from that of humans.

“Ye look it sure enough,” he mumbled behind that seated piece of wood. He folded his arms across his chest; he shunned him by refusing to say another word that might be misconstrued as a compliment or a bit of sentimental fluff; he damned that accursed Jango for all his woes and troubles.

Clones. The man must have felt he was akin to God, but even Gods could die.

“And what of you?” Boba pulled him from his ruminating.

Cad Bane huffed. “An’ what of me,” he asked with a tinge of irritation to his voice.

“Have you grown?”

“Best be watchin’ yer tongue, boy,” he replied, his retort laced with a veneer of vitriol - pure vindictiveness - extending beyond his sneering upper lip.

“That woman. You favor her. Seen you follow her;  you’ve been to her home. You’re slipping, Bane. Didn’t even notice me.”

Cad Bane amassed a growl, a deep grumble within his chest. He lost his cool for just one instant, beating his fist along the cushions of Boba’s hovercraft.

Greedo jumped, Brainee looking over his shoulder at the Duros. He quickly refaced the darkened dunes as it took all his concentration to navigate in the dead of night; Jabba’s Palace loomed close by in the distance, the many lamps ignited, lighting their way “home.”

“She ain’t nobody. Leave her outta whatever dhis is, ye hear?”

Boba smirked, the corner of his mouth upturning. It seems he had touched a nerve. “A nobody, huh? She’s awfully pretty for a nobody.”

Bane’s eyes narrowed beneath the shadow of his hat, his expression only visible by the glow the electronic mechanisms within the vehicle emitted. His red eyes gleamed in a quiet fury that put the teen on edge. “A nobody just de same.”

Boba returned his helmet to his head. He had an inkling his next comment wouldn’t sit too well, but he was feeling rather feisty despite knowing the risk he was about to take. He desired to see just how deep Bane’s connection went with someone he pretended to care nothing of. For Cad to have a weakness, and to be aware of it, would no doubt be a hot commodity in the long run. It was something he could use to his advantage, though bordering unfair.

“Then perhaps I’ll call on her myself. A beautiful girl like her... I wonder what she’s like.”

Just as he suspected.

A Sacros K-11 blaster pistol was withdrawn to meet with Cad Bane’s head, as one of the Duros’ own LL-30’s had been pulled from its no-fight nerf-hide holster, aligning itself with the weak spot in Boba’s beskar helmet. The two bounty hunters had simultaneously engaged their weapons, the Rodian in front turning around to speak in his native tongue in a hurried fashion, though neither man dignified him with so much as a single glance.

Cad’s fearsome canines dug into the surface of his toothpick so hard it snapped into two separate pieces. He spit the remnants to the side, speaking a note lower than before.

Bane’s Durese accent bypassed his pink tongue; it was thick with modulation. His vocal cords had taken on an excess quality of reverberation, the narrow tubes of his larynx incurring the residual effects of a predatory rumble – he knew to pull the trigger would also mean his death - they’d go out together.

“Ye stay away from her. Gonna wish me dead. Be yer worst nightmare, Fett.”

“Noted, old man.” It was a jibe, meant to be disrespectful. Cad was only 47, but near enough to 50. He was old compared to Boba, but Boba was no “boy.” If he wanted to have a back and forth, the clone was up for it.

Brainee made a sound to clear the air as the speeder slowed. Greedo was still moaning about something unimportant, but the Siniteen spoke above him to the two hostile occupants that resided in the back with weapons drawn. “Hate to interrupt, but we have arrived.”

---

Jabba’s court was just as Cad remembered it – full of undesirables, bounty hunters - some topnotch and others up and coming. There were musicians, service droids, and scantily clad women. Dancers, Twi’leks, but none as beautiful as her.

People murmured and gossiped in hushed tones. The music died as Cad Bane entered the crime lord’s residence. The Duros sighed as he followed the other three who had escorted him, Cad adjusting his broad hat out of habit before he presented himself to the awaiting Hutt.

He cut right to the point, both lanky arms brandishing themselves across his chest in an outward show of irritability, though he kept himself in check; he subdued the aggravation that threatened to breech the surface of his already disgruntled mien.  

“De boy says yer callin’ me out. An te what do Ah owe de pleasure, Hutt? Hope it’s somethin’ werth my time.”

The mass before him, despite all appearances, was muscular. Within one meaty hand was the hose of a hookah filled with Spice, tendrils of wispy smoke exiting the mouth of the unsightly individual as he belly laughed at Cad, laid out upon his dais. “Chowbasa, murishani.”

A protocol droid stepped forward, gray and black with yellow photoreceptors in the place of eyes; it had a voice detonating it was programmed to be female. One arm lifted in a swooping gesture as she greeted him, “the Almighty Jabba welcomes you, bounty hunter.”

“M’Huttessse is rusty, but naht dhat rusty,” the hunter drawled.

“Pardon my assumption.” The droid meandered backward a step or two, waiting for instructions at Bane’s behest.

Jabba exhaled another ring of smoke as Brainee and Greedo stepped to the left of him. Boba had wandered off, joining a group of flirtatious women. They were pawing at his armor, their fingers vigorously traipsing along the curves of his beskar helmet as they giggled. Cad Bane withheld a snicker, recalibrating his attention.

Greedo muttered a complaint, though loud enough for his employer to hear his gripes. Jabba snapped at him, saying something curt. He sauntered off, limping, and Brainee bowed, though he side-eyed Cad, a hint of something inauspicious lingering in his golden colored gaze.

“Whee bal uba threaten mah murishani’s, Cad Bane?”

Cad Bane raised a hand in an air of casual indifference. His fingers waved dismissively, yet his answer skirted past the truth and took the form of an outright lie. “Donno whatcher talkin’ about, Hutt.”

“He means me, Bane. You threatened me, remember? You were spotted talking to the Imperial Governess to top it off. What business have you with her?”

Brainee spoke up, though he was timid. He was no match for Bane, and he was quite aware. Still, being within the confines of Jabba’s Palace demarked a certain guarantee as to his safety, or at least he assumed as much, perchance unwise.

“Got bidness with ‘er, ain’t none of yers.”

“Lo mah busioojah,” Jabba’s booming voice cut in.

Cad glanced at his fingertips, his top set of knuckles curling. He caught a whiff of the girl’s delightful scent still upon his hands and nearly faltered in his performance, but somehow managed to collect himself before he “slipped.” “Gotta contract lined up. Lookin’ fer someone all ye need te know.

“Jee doo oeal Tour Aryan. Keekah shash oolace. Should oom-main Bestine beke  keekah haku gooddé shash.”

Cad Bane belted out an exasperated rush of air. “Droid?”

The protocol droid tip-toed forward to intervene. “The Almighty Jabba says that he has made a deal with Tour Aryan. She is to stay in her place. She will keep to the city of Bestine only, if she knows what is good for her.”

“Ah don’ know nothin’ about no deal,” Bane flatly explained. Tour Aryan had barely mentioned it.

It appeared Jabba was becoming heated; he was somewhat angry. He spewed forth another stream of incoherent words. Those gathered began to retreat into the dark margins of the corners, though the Duros wouldn’t let on he felt anything but calm.

The droid spoke up again. “The Almighty Jabba says the Governess is stepping on his tail by hiring a bounty hunter such as you, Cad Bane. She has no business conducting a transaction of her own on Tatooine should it not be approved under his authority. He demands to know the nature of your task.”

“Ask her, dhen.”

“Shulu chess ko, murishani! Mah oom-spect uba oop travels nar.”

Bane’s fangs presented themselves to the sentient, grub-like being. He was in no mood for his underhanded praise. “Am bein’ careful – Respect? Don’ think ye do respect me. Ye’d stay out m’business if ye did.”

Jabba the Hutt unleashed a unique bellow that could only be produced by his sordid species, a roar that signified his total, all-encompassing disapproval of Cad Bane's willful disobedience. His stubby arm moved with impressive speed, the floor giving way beneath Cad Bane’s steel-toed boots.

Miniature Mitrinomon thrusters activated within milliseconds, Cad hovering above the open maw of Jabba’s prized possession - his beloved rancor pit where his pet lived down below - he had the nerve to try and make a meal of him.

The Duros growled, teeth bared. He cursed the Hutt for his ignorant attempt at killing him. The sleemo either had forgotten, or didn’t know about Cad Bane’s secret and varied arsenal, the tools of his chosen trade.

“Ye dang-blamed, bloated slime! Koochu! E chu ta!”

People gasped at the language the bounty hunter had chosen to use as he floated above the metal grate that housed the monster who laid in wait. Bane withdrew one blaster and aimed it at the seething slug creature’s face. “Think ye gonna take me out so easy? Ye gotta ‘nother thing comin’! Ye messed with de wrong karkin’ Du-”

Without warning, Bane’s body was riddled with a current of incapacitating electricity; his lithe frame jolted as an electroshock net of unknown origin short-circuited his rocket boots.

His limbs were tangled; he was dropping rapidly – Brainee had seized his opportunity to impress his boss as Boba watched - he was somewhat at a loss, conflicted, though holding his own tongue. It had been dishonest – a sneak attack. Face-to-face Brainee never would have stood a chance. He knew this, though Jabba the Hutt laughed heartily as the man descended into the depths of his rancor’s den.

Cad Bane’s breath was gone; his ribs met bedrock, though his light-weight armor helped to cushion the otherwise deadly blow. He gasped at the same time a spurt of emerald blood left his parted lips, staining the ground before him as the pain began to spread throughout his core.

The electronet had made it so that Cad Bane could not twist, right himself, or break his fall. Though the Duros would not allow a cheap shot such as this to be his end – he would fight until his strength left him - but if it was his time to die, he only wished Boba had been the one to do him in; it would have been poetic justice.

  -----

Masterlist

#Cad Bane #Boba Fett #Jabba the Hutt #Greedo #Hondo Ohnaka #bounty hunters #star wars #Cad bane x Original female characters #Hondo Ohnaka x Original female characters #Stars Above #Fanfiction #Ao3

[theodorevg923]

Gatorbun Week!

Day 7: Free 4 All

Day 6

Sorry I'm 2 days late getting this out! Hope you all enjoy! ♡

Master List!

- 2,350 words under the cut!

-

Day 7: Free 4 All

Jan. 9th, 2002

Bonnie stood in front of Freddy's office, his chest aching for his long time friends and bandmates, but what he was about to do needed to be done. It wasn't going to be easy for anyone, leaving the band he'd been a part of for nearly nine long years, but his body and heart couldn't keep up anymore. With a silent sigh, he raised his fist to rap his knuckles on the door, pain and sadness squeezing the heart that lay within his chest. Bonnie didn't wait for a reply to open the door, already knowing Freddy wasn't in a meeting. He closed the door behind him and locked it as he quietly watched the bear working on some new project.

Freddy looked up from the desk, a warm smile on the bear's muzzle. "Bon, this is a pleasant surprise to see you here."

Freddy's warm smile faltered as the bear caught sight of the sadness in Bonnie's eyes that he knew he couldn't hide from his past lover. After letting his feet push him forward, Bonnie sunk into a chair in front of Freddy's desk, his tone laden with the regret that was eating at him. Before could speak, he turned his face away from the worry in the bear's eyes.

"I want, no need, to retire from the band."

He closed his eyes when Freddy's hands slammed onto the desk as the bear stood up, Bonnie sensing the bear's turmoil. He turned his head to look at Freddy as the bear let out of a snort.

"Why would you want to retire? I thought you love being a part of the band, part of us?"

"I did at first, Fred. But over the years, it's not as fulfilling as it used to be. I'm not going to leave you right at this moment." Bonnie sighed, the regret in his chest burrowing deeper from his words. "But I want to soon, it's time for me to step back and let someone else have my spot."

"And who could ever replace you Bon?" Freddy's voice began to rise in anger with a hint of fear. "You have been there for us since the very beginning. Through everything that's happened to us, through the night my father forced out bites! And you want to just up and quit!" 

"Yes, Freddy. I'm not saying I'm leaving the family, I want to let someone else have their turn in the limelight."

"Like who?"

"Monty, and Roxy, if she wants to. I haven't talked to Chica about her yet."

Freddy's expression flashed through several emotions before settling with a soft sadness and contemptment. "Did that damn alligator put you up to this? He already stole you from me, and now this. I won't allow it."

"What happened between Monty and I was my decision, you know that. And please don't make this any harder than it has to be, Fred. You damn well know I only joined the band in the first place for you and Chica. I was content at the old pizzeria, but you wanted to go bigger. For nine years I have stood beside you on stage, it's time to let me step down." Bonnie kept his tone stern but flat, forcing all his emotions down and under control. 

Freddy's contemptment turned to a look of defeat as the bear slumped into his chair, a hand running through the bear's shoulder length hair. "I apologize for my rude behavior Bon, I don't know how I'll be able to keep the band going without you beside me. When were you thinking of retiring? Knowing you, you must have already planned it out."

"You will do fine, I will always be by your side when you want me there. But it's time for me to allow myself to be selfish for once. I plan to retire in about three months and I want to extend onto the den, build a bowling alley for me, and a pirate cove for Foxy. He at least deserves an attraction of his own, now that long voyages are getting too hard on him after his accident."

"We should have built him one in the first place, and your bowling alley as well." Freddy leaned back in his chair with a heavy sigh. "Three months doesn't give us much time to put everything in order. I need you to tell me everything you have planned out so far."

"I will, my bear. And you already know I would never leave you in a lurch unless I had no other choice. Thank you for allowing me to be selfish, my superstar."

-

May 4th, 2002

Monty was playing his fifth game on his course for the day when a stagehand came running up to him. He grumbled, nearly missing his perfect shot as the stagehand stopped and started yelling at him.

"Monty!" They paused, trying to catch their breath. "Something happened to Bonnie on stage, he needs you backstage as quickly as you can."

Fear and shock gripped Monty's heart as he dropped his putter and ran for the entrance to his attraction. His tail scraped across the ground as he ran, the crowds parting in front him, not caring whether it was in fear or something else. The crowds continued to part as he threw himself out of his attraction, taking a sharp turn towards the concert hall as his tail slammed into the ground. Anger and utter terror filled his heart and mind as he ran, what happened to his rabbit that he needed to be there so quickly? His mind ran deeper into the terror, dark thoughts of his rabbit being badly maimed or even laying dying, if Bonnie wasn't already. He ran past the entrance, dodging past guests frantic from seeing him on a rampage, or he guessed that was what it appeared like.

Finally making it to the backstage area on the right side of the stage, he slammed the door open and stopped still in his hunt. The show was on it's last song, but no one was rushing around, no screams or shouts, nothing to appear as if Bonnie was hurt. His lungs burned, gasping for breath as his feet and legs ached from forcing himself to the backstage area so fast. Hr stepped through the doorway just before someone slammed into him from behind, a yelp coming from them as he turned to grab their arm. Roxy was in a frantic state as well, her hair windblown and nearly frazzled as she too gasped for breath.

"Chica! Where's Chica!" Roxy snarled at him.

"Don' knaw, ah came cause they said Bon needed meh." Monty growled, snapping his jaw at the wolf. 

Just as Roxy started lunging for him, Freddy's voice came over the stage speakers. Roxy stopped as he took a couple steps back away from the wolf with a snort.

"Thank you for coming today my superstars! Before we say goodnight, we have an announcement to make. With a heavy heart, I am sad to say one of us is retiring."

Monty looked at Roxy, shock clear on the wolf's face before they both scrambled for the staircase to the upper backstage area. Both of them threw themselves up the stairs, for once not fighting each other as Roxy busted the door down. The moment Monty stepped through the doorway, he saw Freddy, Bonnie, and Chica standing beside each other on stage. Foxy was standing at the edge of the stage, turning to grin at him and Roxy. Freddy handed the microphone to Bonnie as Monty and Roxy stepped to the edge of the stage beside Foxy, just barely hidden from the crowd. Bonnie waited a moment, raising his hand to silence the crowd's mixed emotions. 

"Yes, you heard that right, I am retiring. For nine long years I have been a part of this band and all of you. It was not an easy decision to leave, and I will miss all of you. But," Bonnie paused as he took a couple steps forward. "We have a couple members of our family that deserve the love you have shown me, shown us. Together, we can make them the rockstars they are destined to be."

Monty's jaw dropped in shock, he knew something had been off about Bonnie the previous couple weeks, but this was something else entirely. He snorted, turning his head to look at Roxy. She had a similar expression to him as she looked between Bonnie and Chica, a bright smile on the chicken's beak as she appeared to hold back tears. As Monty turned to look at Bonnie again, he noticed his rabbit was looking at him with a grin.

"Monty and Roxy, come here." Bonnie's grin widened as his rabbit spoke to them.

Monty and Roxy looked at each other, the wolf frantically smoothing her hair out before they stepped onto the stage. Chica ran up to Roxy, grabbing the wolf's hand to pull her beside Freddy as Monty walked over to Bonnie. His heart was racing from nervousness having never stood on the stage in front of the crowd. His tail tip twitched despite the control Monty attempted to keep on it as Bonnie grabbed his hand before turning back to the crowd.

"Six years ago to this day, Monty became part of our family. Despite how quirky our family can get, he has stayed with us through it all, and stood at my side. And through these years, I have watched him grow into a loyal and tenacious alligator, one that I am proud to be standing beside today. Roxy has been with us for these long six years as well, Foxy raising her to be the best hunter she can be, and we are all proud of her. Not many of you may know this but," Bonnie paused to grin at Roxy, who's nose scrunched up in a snarl. "Roxy has chosen to stand by our beloved Chica's side, a devoted huntress to the end of time. And now, it is time for them to shine among the stars. They have worked with devotion to learning their instruments, Monty on the bass, and Roxy on the keytar, and we believe they are ready."

Bonnie pulled the microphone away from him for a moment as he turned to face Monty and took a deep breath before raising the microphone. "Happy birthday Montgomery. I love you and I can't wait to see you take the first steps to your destiny."

Bonnie handed the microphone off to Freddy before pulling Monty in for a warm kiss. Monty froze where he stood, from shock and apprehension of his sudden rockstar career. He felt rather than heard over the roaring crowd, a low purr from Bonnie as he slowly melted into his rabbit's arms. With a wide grin, Bonnie pulled back from the hug, grabbing Monty's hand before raising their arms to the crowd that roared to a near deafening level. Monty finally pulled his eyes away from Bonnie, turning to look off the stage at the crowd, all the fear he felt washing away as he grinned at the crowd. He felt Chica grabbing his other hand, raising his other arm to the crowd as high as she could reach, looking over to see a startled and frazzled Roxy on the other side of the chicken. Bonnie dropped their arms before tugging him off stage as Freddy stayed behind to address the crowd. 

Monty barely made it off the stage before his fear came roaring back like a hurricane, panic setting deep within his chest. He let Bonnie pull him away from the stage as he body started stiffening up, a few tears springing to his eyes from the overwhelming emotions.

"B-Bon… ah don', ah don' think ah can do it, be as big as ya talked me up to be."

Bonnie sighed, his rabbit's gaze calming down to a soft warmth. "I wouldn't have said those words if I knew they weren't true, my husband. It will take time to adjust to being on stage, but I will still be by your side through it all, my loyal alligator."

"B-but…"

"Monty, it's time to trust and believe in yourself. This is who you are destined to be, who I saw in you all these years ago. I'm not sorry I lied to you about why I saved you, but I hope in time you can forgive me for it. I love you Montgomery, and I promise I will stand beside you for the rest of our lives."

Monty stumbled over words before he gave up trying to speak, grabbing Bonnie's denim jacket and pulling his rabbit in for a kiss. Bonnie chuckled, a deep purr in the rabbit's throat as his rabbit pulled him in to hold, Monty's tail smashing into the ground as his fear turned to love. 

"Bonnie!" Roxy's growl broke through Monty's amorous thoughts.

Monty grinned hearing Bonnie curse under his breath before turning to the wolf. "Yes Rox?"

"What the fuck was that about you stupid rabbit?" Roxy snarled. "Calling me and Chica out like that!"

"You know it was going to happen eventually, Rox," Bonnie chuckled.

"You had no right to do that!" Roxy's snarl was cut off by Chica placing a hand on the wolf's muzzle.

"Hush, Rox, it's alright. It's already happened and we'll make it through." Chica cooed, pulling on Roxy's muzzle to look down at the chicken. "Look at me, my Rox. That's it…calm down."

Roxy snorted, her eyes closing as Chica continued to stroke her muzzle as Monty grinned, rolling his eyes. He turned his attention back to Bonnie, grabbing his rabbit's hand. Monty dragged Bonnie away while Roxy was distracted by Chica, escaping the backstage area. After leaving the backstage area, Monty dropped Bonnie's hand, turning to face his rabbit.

"How did ya know?"

"I noticed you had started to become unhappy about a year ago, but it wasn't until you wore my old show outfit that I finally figured out why."

"Ya saw that?" Monty snorted in shock. "Ah thought ya didn't cause ya weren't in our room when ah woke."

"I borrowed your pants in return for a bit." 

"Wha!"

"They're nice, but not my style."

"Says the one weain' leather chaps."

Bonnie grinned, shoving Monty against the wall of the hallway they stood in. "You like them."

Monty let out a low hiss. "Naw ah don'."

"Don't lie to me Monty, I can feel how aroused you are right now." Shoving a thigh in between Monty's legs, Bonnie let out a low purr. "I've been with you too long to hide that from me."

"Ah…" Monty swallowed the rest of his words as Bonnie kissed him.

"Happy birthday my scrawny alligator. Enjoy your present?"

Monty nodded slowly, still at a loss for words.

Bonnie sighed, resting his head on Monty's shoulder. "I'm sorry to throw you into stardom like this, I just… I can't keep up playing in the band anymore. It hurts to keep going despite having you by my side. I'm sorry, my husband."

Monty mulled on Bonnie's words before speaking. "That's why ya been findin' new hobbies 'n bartendin'."

"Yeah, it is."

Monty sighed, wrapping his arms around Bonnie. "Ah always knew ya had ah hard time keepin' up with the band, jus' didn' knaw it had gotten this bad. Ya could have told meh, Bon, ah wasn't gonna be upset 'bout it."

"I know, I've spent so long being strong for them, I didn't realize how bad it had gotten until it was too late. I'm sorry Monty."

"Ah love ya Bon, 'n wantin' ta retire ain't gonna change that. 'N actually, ah have been wantin' ta be up there with ya, jus' didn' knaw how ta tell ya."

Bonnie chuckled in a low tone. "And now we're here, you becoming a part of the band while I step down."

Monty snorted, pushing Bonnie away from his shoulder to kiss his rabbit. "Thank ya Bon, I'm happy ya chose ta save meh."

"I am too, my rockstar to be."

"Naw let's go ta our room 'n rock out." 

"You're still not topping me."

"Ah can try."

Monty grabbed Bonnie's hand, leading his rabbit to their room to start the beginning of a thrilling career.

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