#you said unnecessarily long and I delivered

[nottoofondofgaypeople]

make an unnecessarily long post about vylad :3

Ohhhh boy a Vylad rewrite post, huh?

Vylad is honestly the character I have struggled the most with when conceptualizing when coming up with ideas for this rewrite. In my brain the main timeline MCD Vylad is aro/ace, so I never think about him in the kinds of situations characters are going to end up in.

I think for the sake of this rewrite Vylad is definitely demi both romantic, sexual, and gender. What demi gender? Good question!

Vylad needs an emotional connection with someone in order to feel attraction to them, but forming an emotional bond with Vylad is pretty difficult. In the entirety of this rewrite I think three people end up getting this, and those people are Agnes, Laurance, and Zenix but in a bad way. And two of those people end up dating his brother, and the other one goes a little insane. So Vylad is just not doing great in the dating pool.

Luckily Vylad is a lot more open to talking to people in this rewrite. Once the 15 year gap has passed, they've spent so long without anyone to really talk to that Vylad is a lot more open to communication. Agnes especially gets on his case for this, forcing Vylad to interact with people more because she will not have her baby brother that's older than her and not even her brother be so stand offish.

All my musician head canons I talked about in this post and it's follow up on my main are all canon to this story. Vylad doesn't do conversations the best, but he is able to become total besties with Aaron and Travis around the fire and kind of third wheels as Aaron and Travis are having their homosexual tension, but they don't mind that much. Vylad has always loved just observing people as they exist and do their stupid human shit, watching two dumb dorks fall in love while looking longingly at one another's hands on an instrument is Vylad's soap opera.

If popcorn existed in Ru'aun, Vylad would be addicted to it. I don't know why but this is a headcanon I will fight to the death about now, MCD Vylad would absolutely adore popcorn.

Just thought about MCD Vylad in a dress. Not something too showy, a dress that fully covers their body and is like a dark green maybe, definitely a custom order from Cadenza but one that she is happy to fill. Wait do Vylad and Cadenza even talk in the entirety of mcd?? Well they do in this rewrite because Vylad is way too shy to ask someone else to do it for them. But Cadenza is completely chill about the whole ordeal, asks the standard amount of questions, and when she's getting measurements she checks in with Vylad constantly to make sure he isn't uncomfortable.

And when Cadenza finishes it she just drops it off at Vylad's house. Vylad has a dress now :)

I don't want to ask too much but please if there are any artists that have somehow read this far I need this 🙏🏻

I think Vylad and Cadenza would have a great friendship. She's just so fucking chill despite being wound up as a lord. Vylad may not get it in the sense of being a lord, but he grew up with Garroth as an older brother and literally helped guide Agnes on the path to being a lord, so he understands it's trials and tribulations very well. I want to write a scene of these two getting high and just talking about literally whatever, maybe they make fun of Laurance, or Vylad opens up about what it feels like to be a Shadow Knight because Cadenza has a Shadow Knight as a guard and one as a brother, she fuckin gets it.

I-Is this a new rarepair? I mean, if I take it down that route we do have to acknowledge that Vylad is lowkey rebounding from Laurance to Laurance's sister which... I mean, given Vylad's track record with romance, that completely tracks. Gods even when I let him feel romantic and sexual things they're so bad at it!

Uhh, anyways, I think Vylad's favorite color is a pale green. The color of his mothers eyes because Vylad is such a mama's boy oh my Irene I will never shut up about this! I always headcanon that his scarf was made by his mom, and that's part of why Vylad is so attached to it.

Just had the thought of Vylad and Agnes singing a duet together :)

Vylad is still really shy about their singing voice and panics at the thought of singing in front of others, but they feel calm enough around Agnes that he doesn't mind if it's just the two of them. Don't know what they'd sing. Maybe Wolves of the Revolution as a trio with Garroth. Oh that's eating my brain alive right now.

I think as a teenager Vylad was really unsupervised, so they spent a lot of time just figuring out how to sneak around their estate. He made new secret passages just because he wanted to fuck with Garroth and Zane. I think Vylad was a total prankster, but both of his brothers got sick of it pretty quickly, and their reactions weren't funny anymore.

Give Vylad more chaotic energy when the alliance island is built and operational. Nothing malicious, but sometimes Vylad will just climb in through your window, grab an apple off the counter, give you a wave and then dip out. I want Vylad to disappear for like two and a half months, come back with no explanation and then hand Agnes some ancient artifact that he "just found while exploring." Vylad is the king of not elaborating. He loves hearing people's guesses, but never confirms or denies how accurate they are.

Garroth's guesses are always the closest to being accurate, but he still doesn't entirely understand the person his brother has become. I think Vylad being older than Garroth would be really weird for both of them. Like in Garroth's brain Vylad is younger little small baby brother, but Vylad is a smart ass who always has to correct him and remind Garroth that they're technically older than he is. This is thanks to both Nether time dilation, and Irene Dimension time dilation! The divine really just like fucking with time.

I think I want an entire episode of just Vylad and Hyria talking over tea. I always imagined Hyria being akin to a mother to Vylad as both of them sort of leaned on one another and used each other to cope with the losses in their lives. And Vylad still makes visits every now and then to the enchanted forest to visit Hyria and have a chat with her. I think it'd be neat.

Even funnier if Lucinda shows up to ask Hyria about a witchcraft thing and she just stares at Vylad like "When did you become friends with my mom?" "Before I met you."

One time while Vylad and Travis were practicing a song alone Vylad set down his ocarina, looked Travis in the eye and said "I've explored the entirety of Gal'ruk. No one will ever believe you." The only person who does is Laurance, but he still makes fun of Travis.

Vylad is just a chaotic confusing freak!! I love him!!!

#you said unnecessarily long and I delivered #oh my irene why did I write so much #this post is a mess #ramblings #mcd rewrite #minecraft diaries rewrite #minecraft diaries #vylad ro'meave #vylad mcd #mcd vylad #mcd garroth #garroth ro'meave #laurance zvahl #mcd laurance #cadenza zvahl #mcd cadenza #zianna ro'meave #mcd zianna #aphblr #travis valkrum #mcd travis #aaron lycan #mcd aaron

[marlynnofmany]

Arboreal Species

We had plenty of options for ways to keep occupied while waiting for the client to show up and collect his delivery. Several of the crew were playing card games with the captain, using a delivery crate as a table, and she was beating the pants off all of them. (Though none of these particular aliens wore pants. You know what I mean.) Some of the others waited inside the ship, declaring boredom with this particular patch of exotic wilderness.

The rest chatted with crew from the ship that had arrived after us, which was also delivering cargo for the same late-to-arrive local. They had plenty to complain about. They also had food to share, and a decent chance that it would be edible by those they shared it with.

While Alien Food Roulette was always exciting, I’d found a much better option.

“Hey, they tell me your species climbs things,” the stranger from the other ship had said, long snout curling into a smile. She looked like a mix of 3/4 baboon and 1/4 crocodile.

“They’re right!” I replied easily. There weren’t many climbing opportunities on our little courier ship, and I was curious where this was going.

The alien pointed at a huge tree on the edge of the landing pad, which boasted smooth orange bark with branches every couple feet. “I’m gonna go climb that. Care to join me?”

“Would I ever!” I said, already heading toward it. I called back over my shoulder, “If you guys need me, I’ll be up a tree!”

Captain Sunlight didn’t even look away from the game, just waving distractedly, her scaly face intent on whatever play Mur had just made. He was chuckling about it and rubbing his tentacles together in a way that was probably a bluff. As soon as I looked away, he made a noise that said the good captain had just wrecked his clever plan. Trrili hissed with laughter.

None of them cared that I was about to climb to a dangerous height. None thought this was out of character in the slightest, and all of them were missing out on an excellent climbing experience.

It was a great tree. The bark was smooth but not slippery, reminding me of a madrone tree from back home, just without the flaky outer layer. And it didn’t feel as cold. If anything, it was warm as we scampered skyward, almost as if the tree welcomed a good climb by people who’d appreciate it.

The alien stopped, picking a branch to sit on and leaning back against another. “Now that is a nice view.”

I had to agree. “It is!” I found my own convenient pair of branches, draping my arms over the top one and finding a nice footrest on a third. “Everybody down there doesn’t know what they’re missing.” The forest around the landing pad was bright with oranges and yellows, the kind of vivid colors that I associated with autumn, but which could have been year-round here. Rolling hills lined the horizon, with a river sparkling merrily in the distance. The only straight line was the road. It made a nice counterpoint to all the gentler natural shapes.

My new friend cupped a hand to her snout unnecessarily. “Hey, everybody down there! You should come see this view!”

To no one’s surprise, she got a chorus of “no thanks.”

I shook my head. “Such a shame. They’re missing out on all the knowledge that comes from above, too. Hey, Paint!” I yelled down to the crewmate who had just dropped a box of round things. “One rolled under the ramp, and two are over in the grass!” I pointed them out.

A distant “Thank you!” reached my ears.

The alien nodded. “Wisdom of the heights indeed. What else can we see, that those on the ground can’t?”

We spent a good few minutes pointing things out to each other and swapping stories. Apparently her people were called the Farsights, for exactly this reason.

“Oh, motion on the road!” she declared, squinting into the distance. “Looks like somebody’s in a rush to be a little less late.”

“Well that ship has launched,” I said, following her eyes. “Nice thought, though. Say, is that one car or two?”

The Farsight didn’t answer immediately, which made me worry a little. Then she said “Uh oh,” which made me worry a lot.

“Uh oh what?”

She stood up on the branch and bellowed, “INCOMING! Client’s being chased by hostile fauna!”

“Oh jeez.” Now I could see it too: something large and antlered galloping after the little surface skimmer. Both were headed straight toward our landing pad.

Chaos erupted down below as we slid off our perches and scrambled downward. The bark was still friendly-smooth.

“I think that creature eats these!” my friend said, bounding out toward the end of a branch to shake loose a bundle of round seedpod things. “I’ve seen them before!”

“Will that matter?” I asked, slowing. “It looks pretty mad!”

“Can’t hurt!”

I couldn’t argue that. There were more than a few seedpods waiting on my path down, all of which came loose with a little judicious bouncing of the branches. When I hit the ground, it was in a sea of baseball-shaped plant bits.

The rest of the crew was scrambling to move crates and dash into the ships for anything weaponlike. A handful of beefy individuals from the other crew lined up to stare the thing down as it approached, and my ship’s biggest and scariest hurried to join them. Trrili claimed a place in front with her black-and-red carapace gleaming in the sun, pincher arms spread wide. She left space for the skimmer to zip past, but only just.

I grabbed seedpods, making a basket with my shirt. “Will we need these? Is it going to stop?”

“Beats me!” said my new friend. She grabbed an armload and ran. “Let’s find out!”

I raced after. We joined the lineup just before the gigantic whatever-it-was skidded to a halt, rearing to paw the air and roar thunderously. The guy in the skimmer was trying to park behind our ship. The various scary aliens yelled back at the huge moose-rhino.

“How well can you throw?” asked my friend, not waiting for an answer. She dumped her armload and started chucking seedpods.

“Pretty well!” I didn’t bother dropping mine, just grabbing them one by one from my shirt basket and aiming for the head.

I didn’t count how many of those direct shots were me, but I’m going to say most of them. The pods burst into squishy fruit with a solid core, doing a great job of annoying the creature as well as coating it with presumably-tasty purple goo.

Its forefeet hit the ground with a teeth-rattling thud. It roared some more, but half-heartedly, like it was just trying to save face at this point.

My friend the Farsight had run out of seedpods, so I gave her some of mine. While our crewmates did their best threat displays, we pelted the dangerous beastie with fruit until it turned to lope in the other direction. I made sure to throw a few on the road near it, in case it felt like picking up a bite to eat on the way. It didn’t, but I did see a tongue lick out as it turned its back on us.

Belatedly, Kavlae and Eggskin skidded out of our ship with stun guns at the same time as a couple people from the other — was that a rocket launcher or a flare gun? — none of which turned out to be necessary.

“Take that and eat it!” crowed the Farsight.

“Yeah!” I agreed. “It’s probably delicious!”

“It probably is, actually,” she said as the congratulations started to pour in.

I picked up a seedpod I’d dropped and sniffed it. “Smells a bit like kumquat.”

Captain Sunlight, busy trying to coax the client out of his vehicle, yelled across the landing pad, “Don’t eat that until Eggskin runs it through the medscanner!”

“Aw, really?” I complained, perfectly in synch with my new friend.

“Yes really!” She shook her lizardy head. I couldn’t make out her muttering from here, but I could guess it was about omnivorous habits, self-preservation instincts, absurd treeclimbing species, or all of the above.

The Farsight said, “If these are safe, I’m taking some back with me.”

“Even if they’re not, the seeds would make good souvenirs,” I pointed out, pulling at the pod where it had separated. “Look how perfectly round they are.”

“Oh yeah, those are nice.”

Trrili stalked past with a haughty tilt to her antennae. “You two get along far too well.”

“Like two seeds in a pod!” the Farsight quipped.

That made me smile. “Hey, my people say that too!”

We had plenty to talk about while everybody else handled the actual delivery we were there for. Eventually Eggskin did check the thing with a medscanner. It tasted like sour kumquat. The seeds cleaned up nicely.

And most importantly, my new friend had family with a whole enclave at the next space station my ship was planning to visit. And they had a climbing structure three stories high. I couldn’t wait.

The rest of the crew thought that sounded pointless and dangerous, of course, but none of them had ancestors who danced through the tree branches, so clearly they have no taste.

~~~

The ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come! And I am currently drafting a sequel!

#my writing #The Token Human #humans are weird #haso #humans are space orcs #humans are space monkeys #treeclimbing #hfy #humans can climb #humans can throw #kindred species #eiad #yes it's the same species from that comic ages ago #I figure it's about time there was an appearance in the stories #they're fun

[gilbirda]

I'm just a simple guard, man

Part 6 of my Danny is an Arkham Security Guard AU (og tumblr post)

[Read on AO3] [Read on FF.net]

<< Prequel - Clown around and find out | First Part

There was silence and tension as they watched Batman go through the motions, tying up the unmoving but awake Joker and moving him to somewhere closer to the entrance. Joker was surprisingly responsive and lucid, just mellowed and obedient. Somehow it made it better — if he was a vegetable Jason knew Batman wouldn’t let that go until Danny undid what he had done.

Danny.

The Ghost King.

Jason didn’t know exactly what that meant. Heck, until today he didn’t know that ghosts were kind of a thing. Mythical creatures, he could buy. Apparitions, imprints of conscience that were unavenged — that he could buy too. But a Ghost King implied an organized society with status and a legal organization. A power structure.

“Oh yeah, forgot to mention that.”

He turned towards the doctor well aware his face showed every emotion.

“The fuck?”

“Did that really happen?” Duke was trying to keep calm, but his eyes were wide open and his hands slightly trembling.

“Yeah?” She lifted an eyebrow.

“But—”

“How the heck—”

“ — how did he do that —”

“ — did he set him on fire!”

“ — and is he even human?”

“Children,” Alfred stood from his seat, positioning himself between the brothers and their guest. “Let her breathe.”

“It’s okay, Mr. — uh…” She blushed as she realized she never asked for his name.

“Alfred,” the butler smiled, “Alfred Pennyworth.”

“Mr. Pennyworth,” she nodded politely. “I’m fine. I am aware that after that… theatrical spectacle, explanations are needed.”

“Indeed.” Batman cut in the conversation. “Proper explanations are in order. After I deliver the Joker to Arkham.”

“You can’t be serious!” Did the old man go crazy? Back to that place?

Jazz frowned, seemingly sharing his thoughts. She leaned closer to the microphone and spoke in a controlled voice. “Where are you delivering him? In the hospital.”

Bruce took way too long to answer, so Tim did it for him. “Through the front door?”

Jazz didn’t find it funny. “Wait for me.”

“What?”

“I said, wait for me.” Jazz reached for her discarded jacket, eyeing the door to the elevator back to the manor. “Joker is my patient and I need to be there.”

“What for?”

She turned to look at Jason. “He doesn’t deserve to be left at the mercy of some of the people in the Asylum. They could—”

“He can rot for all I care.”

The vigilante walked up to her, getting in her way and using his height and build to scare her into submission. Jazz held his gaze, defiant, muscles tense and ready to throw down if needed.

“You don’t know that place like I do.”

Jason huffed. “Whatever the inmates want to do to him, he deserves it.”

“I wasn’t talking about the inmates.” Her teal eyes steeled with fury. “Arkham has a history of staff abusing their authority.”

Duke glanced at Alfred, unsure what to make of that statement. He quietly stood up, getting ready to intervene in case Jason decided to get violent; but Alfred held him back with a gloved hand on his shoulder.

“Again, he deserves it.”

Tired of craning her neck to look up at him, Jazz stepped back. “He deserves the judgment of the people he’d hurt in the past — something my brother and I can promise you will happen.” Given what they saw in the camera feeds, nobody doubted the siblings could ensure it. “But I’m not going to tolerate that my patient spends his last years alive being unnecessarily abused.”

“I told you—”

“What do you think,” she interrupted Jason, her gaze cold and her body tense, “will happen if someone dies full of rage? If in their last moments they wish they could enact vengeance on those that harmed them?” She narrowed her eyes, knowing her words were hitting something in him. “What do you think will happen to the Joker’s soul if he’s abused and tortured at Arkham, and probably killed, after he crosses the Veil?”

“I—”

“A huge pain in the ass, it’s what will happen.”

The tense silence could be cut with a knife. Duke couldn’t understand how Jazz not only managed to stare down the six foot something tank that Jason was, but she also commanded the attention and respect. He was a newcomer to the place and he had done more than enough crazy stuff during his time in a gang; but he still struggled with openly challenging Jason and Cass. And Tim, but that was when the vigilante fell into his weird mumbling-in-the-dark episodes.

“I’m taking you there.”

He grabbed her arm and pulled her towards the garage section of the cave. Jazz yanked her arm free and stopped to cross her arms.

“I can walk on my own.”

Jason bristled, opened his mouth to continue their fight, but apparently that was when Alfred had enough.

“If you want to get there in time,” his voice was neutral, controlled, and his face wore his signature arched eyebrow, “I'd recommend leaving right now.”

His tone was final.

Jazz and Jason looked at each other, frozen under the certified Alfred glare. They nodded and walked quickly towards where Jason’s signature red bike was parked.

***

Arkham Asylum was a mess when the duo arrived — police cars flooded the entrance, and the Batmobile stood out like a sore thumb in the midst of all the red and blue lights flashing around.

Jazz cursed under her breath. She would have preferred to not turn the situation into a circus.

They managed to walk through the sea of cops and civilians looking in the compound from the metal gates. Funny enough, the few guards blocking the way didn’t move to stop them once both glared at them at the same time.

Jazz made a beeline at the Director chatting animatedly with Batman. Black Bat was standing a bit back with Red Robin, probably discussing what just happened with Danny, but the Arkham doctor didn’t care about them.

“I demand I see my patient.” Jazz didn’t beat around the bush.

The Director blinked and slowly looked away from Batman, as if he couldn’t believe someone had the audacity to interrupt this moment. “Miss Fenton—”

“Doctor.” She corrected him.

The man cleared his throat, throwing a nervous glance at the silent Dark Knight.

“Doctor Fenton,” the word was spit like it was a curse, “your shift doesn’t start until eight.”

“But the Joker is my patient and I know he’s in there.” She gestured at the looming Asylum with her hand. “After such a traumatic event I need to see him.”

Someone coughed a laugh behind the Director. At least the man had the decency of hiding a smile.

“The Joker is not going anywhere, Miss— Doctor.” He added when she glared at him. “You can schedule a session tomorrow. That is, if your patient is up for conversation.” With that, the man deemed their conversation over and turned back to Batman. “Once again, thank you so much, Batman. I’m not going to ask how you did it this time, but we will certainly appreciate the results.”

Jason was as happy as everyone else that Joker wouldn’t be a problem anymore, but the way this bastard was treating Jasmine was outright criminal. He squared up for a fight and tried to step forward, but a cold hand on his forearm stopped him. Jazz moved her eyebrows up and her eyes went over his body before she looked back towards the police. Several new vehicles joined the party — all the Gotham news channels were here to record the event.

And he wasn’t wearing his suit. Right.

He nodded and remained where he was, but made a gesture towards where the Director was waxing poetry about how good Batman was for their city and how much the city owed him.

Do you want me to beat him up for you? He wanted to ask.

Jazz chuckled, hiding her smile behind her hand. She shook her head and patted his arm a few times.

“Thanks,” she whispered, “but not today.”

He didn’t know how serious she was. This was the same person who pulled a gun at Red Hood and five seconds later forced him into a therapy session. The same lunatic that was excited about having the whole bat flock in her apartment so she could question them.

For the first time since the alarm sounded about Joker’s escape, Jason let himself relax a little bit. Jazz was crazy enough to take on Arkham’s finest and leave victorious.

“Director Kallwick,” her voice was pure steel, “I’m afraid it’s imperative I see my patient after such a traumatic—”

“I think there’s something you are not understanding, Miss Fenton.”

“And what is it?” She crossed her arms.

The Director raised an eyebrow, now fully facing her. It didn’t escape Jason how the man squared his shoulders to look bigger and overpower Jazz. He had seen that behavior way too many times, in many different situations — and he didn’t like it when men like the Director used it against people that couldn't fight back, specially women.

He glanced at Bruce, trying to gauge how much the old man would flip if he intervened anyway. He trusted Jazz, but he really didn’t like the Director right now.

“I’m positive that after today’s… development,” he smiled, “things at Arkham will definitely change. For the best, of course.” He raised an eyebrow. “Starting with streamlining our staff and making sure we count on experienced doctors to treat the patients that really need it.”

Was he implying…?

Jazz hummed, regarding the man with as much contempt as she allowed herself to show. “I know you don’t like me, Mr. Kallwick. You never did. I know you hired me because you needed cannon fodder to sacrifice and keep the Joker entertained.” She smiled. “I’m young, but I’m not stupid. And I know men like you — weak, scared, and cowardly.”

“Hey there young—”

“I know you’d rather let your staff die than develop better and healthier outlets for patient’s destructive tendencies.” She lifted a hand and walked closer, poking the man’s chest. “I know that you look the other way when guards and doctors mentally and physically abuse inmates because you actually think they deserve it.” She poked him again.

“I don’t—” He went to grab her hand.

She moved away from him so quickly and so smoothly that it looked like a dance step.

She smiled. It wasn’t nice. “And I know all about what you’ve been doing with the funds and donations.”

Even in the middle of the noise from the crowd at the gates, you could hear the man loudly swallow.

“I know about the embezzling and the bribes and the interesting filing mistakes and convenient registration mishaps, Mr. Kallwick.” Her eyes slowly turned greener. It was subtle, but you could see that her usual teal color suddenly looked greener than blue. A trick of the lights, you could think, but the bats knew better. “I know you don’t care how or why the Joker is unresponsive, but I do; and if you want me to stay in my lane I highly recommend you stay in yours.”

The man processed her words, the thoughts clear in his eyes. He was probably thinking how she could have found out, or who told her, or how was he going to silence her better.

Jason saw the switch to the later thought as clear as day.

Bruce saw it too.

Before the man said or did anything else, the tall and quiet shadow of Batman placed himself behind Jazz, one hand on her shoulder as an obvious sign of his support. The other two bats placed themselves on the sides of the Arkham doctor, arms crossed, looking down at the man who was realizing too late the mistake he made.

***

“Are you still mad?”

“Hm.”

“You sound like the old man.”

Jazz glared at him, violently stabbing her ice cream cup and breaking her plastic spoon.

“You may need to deal with those anger issues. Have you thought about going to therapy?” He said with a bright smile.

She stood up, not caring about attracting attention. Who was going to pay attention to them, Jason didn’t know. It was way early in the morning — or late at night, it depends on how you see it — and Jazz had demanded they go to the closest ice cream place that was open.

Luckily he knew a place, because of course only in Gotham someone would be crazy enough to have an ice cream shop open at this hour.

“Some vigilantes, and some rogues, really like ice cream. It is an untapped market.” The man running the place said when asked, shrugging like it was obvious.

Jazz sat back down, now with a new spoon, and continued eating her sweet monstrosity of layered chocolate and dulce de leche.

“If you are this mad I highly recommend you take it with Bruce. I’m sure he will be very understanding and accept your feedback.”

She kicked him in the shins, rolling her eyes at his sarcasm.

“Whatever you say, mister Daddy Issues.”

It was his turn to kick her, but she was expecting the movement and moved away before he made contact. She smirked, taking another bite of her ice cream with a smug smile on her face.

God, he hated older siblings and their knowing smiles.

He prepared to kick her again..

“Don’t even try,” a new voice said, the person taking the empty chair on their little table. “Jazz is like a ninja when she really wants to.”

Jason wanted to differ and explain he had trained with literal ninjas, but the speed at which she whipped a gun on him not that long ago came to his mind. Was it a liminal thing? Or a Jasmine thing? Maybe a Fenton thing?

“Hey.”

“Hey back at you.” Danny sighed, taking Jazz’s ice cream cup and biting directly from the top layer. “That bad, huh?”

Jason bit his simple chocolate cone, watching the siblings talk.

“She’s mad because B scary dog privileged his way into making the Arkham Director submit and it undermined Jazz’s authority. She did a neat speech and everything.” He shook his head. “All wasted.”

She huffed and stole her ice cream back. “I didn’t need his support.”

“I know you don’t.” Danny glanced at Jason. “But it’s better if you have Batman’s backup, yes?”

Jazz ignored him.

Jason took the chance to look at Danny, trying to find anything that was different about the young man. He still had the scene back with Joker burned in his mind.

King of the Ghosts.

He would have never guessed, given the scrawny and sleep deprived raccoon of a man sitting next to him. He was still wearing the same shirt and under the fluorescent lights of the ice cream shop, it was easier to see the scars on his arms and hands — and the ones peeking from under his collar.

“Spit it out.”

“Huh?”

Danny rolled his eyes. “You have questions. Ask.”

“I don’t—” He tried to deny it, but thought better about it. Jason bit his ice cream and cleared his throat. “I want to ask about —”

“Of course you want to ask about what happened.”

A soft thump! came from under the table, and given Danny’s glare at Jazz then she probably kicked him for the sass.

“What do you want to know?”

“Why are you being so forthcoming?”

“I’m feeling charitable today.” Another kick from under the table. “Ok, ok! No need for violence.” He sighed. “Jazz’s right. This is not my territory. If we want to stay, we have to play nice with you guys.”

The way he said it, and the way he made a face when he said it, told Jason that Danny was really struggling with trusting the bats with the information. Trust issues he could understand — one wasn’t in their line of work without being betrayed or hurt enough to warrant these issues.

No. It was something deeper.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

There were many questions burning in his mind and he didn’t know how long they had. “Why… Gotham? Why Arkham? Why a guard?”

“You just wasted your time man. You already know the answer for that.” He pointed at his sister, who nodded in agreement. “I followed her.”

“And I came here because I was interested in the rogues.” She added, licking her spoon clean.

Jason shook his head. “I meant — why is the King of the Ghosts… just… here?” He lowered his voice, glancing at the ice cream man. The man was half asleep on the counter and clearly not listening. “Don’t you have better things to do?”

Danny responded with a dry laugh. “I have no interest in being the king of anything.”

“But?”

He looked away, suddenly very uncomfortable.

Jason glanced at Jazz, but she was glaring at the table.

“What happened?” He poked the siblings, trying to be soft. It was obviously a touchy subject, and whatever happened was painful enough that they’ve been avoiding any mention of their past before Gotham like the plague.

“It was… It happened a few years ago. I defeated the previous Ghost King, but nothing happened for a while. I thought… I thought things had calmed down since ghosts stopped attacking my town so often. And then, after I graduated highschool, the Observants started harassing me about taking the throne.”

“Did they hurt you?” Jason didn’t know what these “Observants” were, but he could guess from context.

Danny shook his head, stealing Jazz’s ice cream again. “They were fucking annoying, but they couldn’t touch me. As the Prince, I was technically their superior and untouchable.” He bit the cold treat and chewed. Somehow Jason wasn’t surprised Danny never got a brain freeze. “It was a few more years of avoiding them and trying to keep peace in town, as well as trying to get to know the Infinite Realms.” He chuckled again. “I even considered, for a moment, that being King wasn’t even that bad.

“It was a pretty normal day when it happened. I went to the mall with my friends. Sam, she — She had a fight with her parents and went there to cool down and cheer her up. The ghosts came first,” he pushed the ice cream back to his sister, and avoided Jason’s eyes, “but nothing was out of the ordinary. We fought. I defeated them. More and more kept coming, faster than I — than we could contain them.”

“I was away at college, but I later learned that it was a massive all out attack on just Danny.” Jazz placed a hand on Danny’s. “It was a coup attempt.”

“I didn’t know. I didn’t know that so many people were against me being King, and all that time they were planning the attack, and if I just paid a little more attention… If I wasn’t so—”

Another kick under the table. Danny cleared his throat and tried again.

“The GIW came as well. Things went from bad to worse, and by the end of the day it was an all out war between us, the ghosts doing a coup and the GIW. With our parents at the head of the attack.”

Jason frowned. “But you guys knew they worked with the GIW.”

Jazz gave him a warning look. “We knew they collaborated and consulted for them. We knew about the patent weapons.”

“But we didn’t know that they’d lead an attack on me.”

Danny did a brief pause to breathe, and stole more ice cream from his sister. She just pushed the cup towards him, apparently done with the treat.

Jason followed where the siblings were going. “They knew you’d be at the mall. That… That Phantom would be at the mall.” Danny looked up, his tired eyes confirming his thoughts. “They knew.”

It wasn’t a question.

Jazz nodded anyway. “We don’t know how long they did, but the truth is they knew about Danny. And went for him anyway.”

Minutes ticked by. Jason and Danny made quick work of their ice creams, lost in thought. Jazz checked her phone, frowned, and typed a few messages before putting it away.

“People died.”

Jason blinked at the non sequitur. Danny swallowed the last of the ice cream and wiped his mouth with a napkin.

“Neighbors, friends, people I knew. That day. They were fine and then they were dead.”

Guilt. It was clear as day.

“Is not your—”

“Don’t.” He cut him off. “Please.”

Jason nodded and decided to move on. “So you won the fight?”

“Barely. The ghosts were either captured by the GIW or retreated when they became outnumbered. Tucker and Sam managed to mess up with the idiots in white’s machines and weapons long enough for us to retreat. But we knew that wasn’t the end of it.

“We packed what we could and I hid at Sam’s, with the excuse that I would help her while she recovered — she broke her arm at the fight. We were a hundred percent sure if… if Jack and Maddie actually knew I was Phantom or not, but just in case.”

“I stayed. They didn’t target me so we were positive they didn’t know about me being liminal, so I stayed home.”

The vigilante frowned at Jazz. “What for?”

“Someone had to monitor them to see what they knew exactly. I also hid away any weapon they could potentially use against Danny.” She shrugged. “Not that it actually helped, because neither came back home in the weeks after the incident.”

“They were at the GIW base.” Danny crossed his arms and leaned back on his seat. The young man looked tired. “Because of course there was work to do with the captured ghosts.”

Jason hummed. “So they’ve been working on experimentation since then?”

Jazz shook her head. “We were telling the truth when we said they weren’t involved in that, at least not by the time we left Amity Park. Back then they were more involved in investigation on ghost containment and weapons research.”

He nodded, and turned back to Danny. “And the coup?”

The young man cursed under his breath. “Dealt with them.”

Jason waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t. He cleared his throat and tried again. “What—”

“Listen, man.” He slapped the table and stood up. “That doesn’t matter. They don’t matter. I dealt with it. I accepted the damn crown and then told everybody to fuck off. And they have done that so far.” He breathed in, breathed out. “I’m nobody’s king, I’m just a simple guard now, okay? Nothing more, nothing less.”

With that, Danny walked away and left Jazz and Jason simmer in the tense silence. He looked at her, trying to gauge if he had said the wrong thing, but Jazz appeared apologetic.

“Before you ask — I don’t know either. Nobody does. He just… after we took down the GIW base, he took the captured ghosts back to the Realms. He came back two days later, hurt and barely coherent, and never spoke of what happened there. To anybody.” Not even me, the hurt statement was implied. “He was… changed. He didn’t say what happened but from what we could piece together it was bad, very bad.”

A myriad of possibilities crossed Jason’s mind. How bad is “very bad”? How much did Danny stir things up at the Realms that he had remained unbothered ever since? He tried to map the scars that he saw, and grimaced at the idea of two straight days of fighting after doing a raid to the GIW base.

Danny was done. With being a hero. With fighting. With trying to do the right thing.

What was even the “right thing” here? Going back to being the King of a dimension that doesn’t want him and he doesn’t want in return? Give it up, and risk someone worse taking control of so much power? Destroying the GIW? Going after their own parents?

He thought about the Joker. He asked Jazz when she was back from checking on the clown, and she willingly shared some details about his state. Jason never felt sorry for the fucker, but gained a new appreciation for Danny and his abilities.

The power to take someone’s soul and seal it inside their bodies — what else could he do? What other otherworldly and potentially devastating powers did he have at his disposal?

What else was he choosing not to face? What else was he running away from?

He stood up and followed Danny outside, finding him standing in the cold morning rain of Gotham. It wasn’t pouring, but it was easy to get soaking wet if you underestimated it.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I wasn’t going to ask.”

Both ignored the door when Jazz quietly followed them out of the ice cream shop.

“Good.” The younger man looked up at the gray sky, maybe looking for the sun. Water droplets fell down his face, and he welcomed them with a relieved, albeit tiny, smile. “Because I don’t have anything else to say.”

Jason rolled his eyes. What a drama queen.

He glanced at Jazz, who was shaking her head. “Whatever you say, edgelord.”

She pulled Danny to her chest for a hug, which he only protested with a tiny grumble. Jason chuckled before he was pulled in too by a surprisingly strong grip.

“If I have to suffer sisterly hugs then so do you.”

Jazz giggled but welcomed the addition to her arms, not caring that she could barely hold both of them and her arms fell short. She squeezed them harder towards her chest, humming in delight.

Great, she was a hugger. Jason really didn’t need another Grayson in his life.

<< Prequel - Clown around and find out | First Part

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[flamehairedwritings]

Do Not Touch

Characters: Jim Hopper x Female Reader 

Rating: E, 18+ ONLY

Words: 10k

A/N: My take on your friend and mine: sex-pollen! I started writing this two years ago, isn’t that wild.

Tags: s3 Hop’, dub-con because of sex-pollen, fuck or die situation, Hopper being a huge dick at first, swearing, masturbation, dirty talk, thigh-riding, oral sex (F receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, doggy-style, creampies, hand on neck/throat but no choking, gentle-mdom Hop’, more submissive reader, slight praise kink, slight cum play.

Summary: A visit to Murray’s house of wonders provides a lot more than you bargained for.

Please don’t copy or steal my work, and please don’t post it on any other sites.

—

“... fuck are you talkin’ about?”

“They’re tapping your phones, Jim, how can you not see it?”

“‘cause it’s not fuckin’ true.”

“Oh, right, so...”

As Murray sets off on another rant, you raise your eyes to the heavens, or rather the dirty, damp ceiling, and tip your head back against the wall, exhaling a long, long breath.

You knew this wasn’t going to be easy. Not impossible, but not easy.

And even Hopper had known Murray was your only hope with this kind of thing.

This kind of thing being that neither of you speak Russian and Murray does.

You’d heard the message over the Hawkins Police Radio two days ago while you and Hop were working late in his office. He’d been adjusting the frequency, fiddling, more like, when the voice had suddenly come through, delivering a short message. You’d both stared at each other, then it had come through again. You’d realised it was the same passage and had quickly grabbed a pen, repeating it to yourself as you wrote it down phonetically on your notepad.

Neither of you had known what to do, so you’d just carried on with your evening, working on your new case. But it had weighed heavy on your mind when you’d left; with the strange things that had gone on in Hawkins in the last couple of years, you are suspicious of everything. Hopper apparently had shared your thoughts as, the next morning, he’d called you into his office, shut the door, and asked if you’d kept the note. When you said you had, you’d both then decided that deciphering it would put your minds at ease.

... Except it was really fucking hard because none of the words sounded close to anything you recognised.

Barely ten minutes later, Hopper had shoved his chair back and hissed out curses.

“We’re gonna go and see Murray,” he’d muttered as he’d strode out of the room to get more coffee.

You’d watched him go, irritation prickling at you because everything needed to be done right now with him these days. In the four years you’d known him, he’d never exactly been a very patient man, but this was different. In the last few weeks he was quick to rile, short-tempered, irritable, yelling more often than not, and you were starting to get sick of it.

So maybe it’s a good thing that he can let that all out on Murray now, who can give back as good as he gets, often, actually, better.

Not that you don’t stand up for yourself when Hopper is in one of his new moods and snaps. He never yells at you, he never has, just raises his voice slightly or gets unnecessarily snippy or even borderline patronising, but your usual tactic is to just walk away, leaving him to stew until he comes to you and makes his kind of apology (offering you a hot drink or a pastry), or you try and lighten the mood. That’s just getting tiring now, though. 

And it’s also a huge turn-off.

Yeah, okay, fine, you’ve admitted it to yourself, you’re attracted to him, but it’s a line you don’t like to cross; he’s your boss and your close friend, too, considering everything you’ve both been through with El, Joyce and the kids.

Now, though, you’re not even sure you want to be his friend.

You’ve tried to talk to him, ask him why he’s so God damn angry all the time but he just brushes you off or says he didn’t sleep well. The latter is nothing new, he was a mess when you’d arrived in Hawkins, sleeping for a few hours at a time on his couch in his trailer, but he’d really come into his own since then, especially when he’d had to start taking care of El. The former is new. Living through life or death situations, spending many late nights working together, and the town being small has brought you two closer together, and you’ve confided in him and he in you, so it stings when he brushes you off like you don’t have a history, like you aren’t his friend. Like you don’t matter.

“Do you know what it fuckin’ says or not?” Hopper thunders in the next room, and the patronising edge to his tone has your nose wrinkling.

“Of course I do, you neanderthal, if you give me the fucking piece of paper then I will be able to write it down for you.”

For once, and you never thought that you ever would, you’re on Murray’s side.

There’s the muffled sound of cursing, then a patronising ‘thank you’ from Murray, and then it’s quiet, except for the sound of a chair squeaking as one of them sits down. From the huff, probably Hopper. Folding your arms across your chest, you exhale another breath as you let your gaze travel the room.

It’s exactly how you’d imagine Murray’s place would be. There are... things everywhere, on every surface, some things you don’t even recognise like devices and folders with foreign writing on them, all just strewn around. To your left on a counter there’s even a corked jar marked ‘DO NOT TOUCH’, filled with a russet-coloured liquid, an unfamiliar, what was once probably red, flower head submerged in it. It looks rather like a lily, but there are strange, swirling patterns on the petals that you don’t recognise.

Your attention is diverted by the sound of the chair squeaking again, boots on wood, and then Murray’s voice.

“Ah, ah, ah, what do I get, Chief?” 

“What?”

“What do I get for my services?”

“What do you get? You don’t get a fuckin’ broken nose, you asshole.”

There’s the sound of paper sliding against skin.

“... What the fuck is this?”

“It’s what was written for me, word for word, so unless you got something wrong, then that’s it.”

There’s silence, then the sound of Hopper striding closer to the room you’re in.

“You’re welcome,” Murray calls as Hopper exits the room, and you press your lips together at his thunderous expression.

“Thank you, Murray,” you answer for him, raising your voice a little.

“Ah, you’re welcome.”

Dropping your arms as Hopper nears, you raise your eyebrows. “So?”

“It doesn’t make any fuckin’ sense,” he mutters, thrusting the note towards you.

Taking it from him, you read it, then frown as you read it again.

The week is long. The silver cat feeds when blue meets yellow in the west. A trip to China sounds nice if you tread lightly.

Inhaling a long breath, you shrug and look up at him. “Yeah, that makes no sense to me.”

“Yeah, I thought it wouldn’t.”

You make yourself interpret that in a kind way as you look at him, watching him lean against the counter beside you and take the note from you, shoving it into his pocket.

It’s complicated. It doesn’t make any sense. He’s not making a comment on my intelligence.

Licking your lips, pressing them together for a moment, you open your mouth, then close it... then open it again, your voice low, “Do you think this maybe has something to do with what Joyce was saying about the magnets? And the lab?”

If his expression was thunderous before, it’s just full on pissed off now. His gaze darting up to you, you can see how tight his jaw is.

“We don’t know that.”

“I know we don’t, but it’s a little suspicious—”

“Or it could just be some people communicating via code.”

“Uh, yeah, that’s suspicious, isn’t it—”

“Not necessarily—”

He goes to put a hand on his hip as he huffs out a breath, but his elbow knocks against the jar, pushing it off the ledge, and your eyes widen as your hands dart out in the same moment Hopper’s do. Both of you acting on instinct, it fumbles in both your hands for all but two seconds as you try to catch it, in the process the cork top sliding off and some of the liquid spilling onto your hands and his arms and you’re waiting for it to sting and burn but it doesn’t and then— 

And then it’s falling and smashing on the floor.

You stare at the spreading liquid, the flower resting limply on it before your eyes dart up to meet Hopper’s, your mouth open. His is closed firmly, his hands, like yours, still raised.

“What was that?!” Murray calls, and you hear him approaching, your eyes now darting to the archway.

“Uh, it—”

“Nothin’, bye, Murray.”

Hopper grabs your hand and pulls you towards the front door, shoving it open and leading you out into the fresh air. He releases you and pulls his car keys out of his pocket as you head for the passenger side of the Blazer, both of you swiftly climbing in once he’s opened it. He’s starting the engine and turning the Blazer around before either of your seatbelts are on properly. Good. There’s only so much shit a human being can take from Murray.

Your seatbelt secured, a glance in the wing-mirror shows you the man himself, waving his arms frantically and faintly yelling for you to come back.

Absolutely fucking not.

Whatever it was, you’re sure it’s replaceable. Sure he collects weird things but it was just a flower, how precious could it be?

You hear Hopper blow out a breath as you head back to the main road, both of you relaxing. Leaning your head back, you keep your eyes on the road, letting the riddle swirl in your mind. You’re certain it’s connected to Joyce’s theories; in all the time you’ve been working at the Station you’ve not once heard someone speaking in code over the radio that wasn’t one of your own or kids, and as for Russian? You’d be very surprised if anyone in the little old town of Hawkins spoke it.

You want to broach the subject with him again, but maybe not now when you’re stuck in a hot car with him and only just starting a nearly two hour drive.

Boy, is it hot.

It’s just gone noon and it’s already sweltering. Rolling the window down, you tilt your head towards it, expecting some kind of breeze. There’s a light one, but it does nothing, so you grip the front of your shirt between your thumb and forefinger and waft it, trying to create some air. The way the shirt moves against your skin... every time it touches against it, slides against you with the movement, you’re hyper-aware of it. Maybe it’s just because you’re more aware of your body in general considering how hot you are.

God, it is uncomfortably hot.

You’re about to ask Hop to put the aircon on when he does so, angling a few of the grates towards himself. Glancing at him, you notice a few beads of sweat at his hairline.

“It’s hot, isn’t it?”

“Hm.”

Oh, well, that’s that conversation over.

You give him the benefit of the doubt, assuming he’s probably thinking about the riddle, too, so you return your thoughts to it, repeating it, turning it over and over—

It’s so hot it’s actually quite hard to think. 

Blinking and widening your eyes a little, you say each word of the riddle slowly in your mind, but they just end up being words, and when you try and say it all together again you just end up stopping halfway through, forgetting it momentarily.

Just wait until you’re back, you can have a cool drink, whack the aircon right up and think about it until you go mad.

You angle the grates on your side so one’s sending a cool breeze to your face, the other your body, and then drop your hand into your lap—

Jesus Christ.

Your leg jerks a little, involuntarily, as you register the sensation of your fingers on your clothed inner thigh. You quickly move your hand to your side but even that, your fingers gliding over your leg, makes your stomach muscles tighten.

It had felt good. Far better than it usually did.

You’re just hyper-aware of yourself because of how hot you feel, it’s fine.

You shift a little in your seat and— 

You catch yourself before a sound escapes you.

Fucking hell, that had felt good. So good in fact, your pussy is actually starting to ache.

Usually when you’re turned on, very turned on, the smallest of touches can have you gasping but... Are you turned on? You take a moment to consider it and find... Fuck, you are. Where the fuck has this come from? 

Hopper clearing his throat pulls you from your thoughts, glancing at him. He’s sweating a little more and he’s gripping the steering wheel tighter, his knuckles almost white, but that’ll just be the heat, another thing that pisses him off.

You need a distraction from... whatever this is your body has decided to feel.

“Maybe it’s from another town.”

“What?” He says it so sharply, almost like you’ve said something completely ridiculous.

“The message? Maybe it’s from another town and just carried over—”

“Nah, I don’t think so.”

Your mouth closes tightly and you return your gaze to the road, staring at it.

Take a breath. He’s in one of his moods. Murray has riled him up. Just let him ride it out... Fuck that, I really need to say something to him about his attitude.

It’s the perfect distraction, planning in your mind what you’re going to say when you get back to Hawkins, coming up with retorts and come-backs to whatever he could say, acting out the conversation in your head and going down every route imaginable. You get so in to it, in fact, that you manage to just about forget how warm you are, and you don’t notice that Hopper is sweating profusely, his hips shifting every few minutes.

—

Your clothes are sticking to every inch of you. Your entire body aches.

What the hell is going on.

You’ve been in the car for a total of thirty minutes now, but it feels like a God damn lifetime. Thinking about arguing with Hop had only gotten you so far; it had channelled some of this weird energy you’re feeling but then suddenly you’d thought about ripping his shirt off and shoving him onto his God damn uncomfortable couch and sitting in his lap while you told him all about how God damn annoying he is.

And then the aches, the bone deep aches, had started.

Fuck, do I have the flu?

You just feel awful. Your elbow rests against the car door, your hand supporting your head, and you stare out of the window, taking slow, deep, steadying breaths. You feel nauseous and your skin is on fire. You’ve tried to keep quiet but you actually think you might be sick, and between throwing up in his car and asking him to pull over, you think the latter will annoy him less.

“Hop’.”

“What?” He doesn’t snap this time, instead he sounds... strained.

“Can we pull over soon? I don’t feel well.”

“Yeah.”

Wow.

Okay.

That hadn’t been so hard. 

His voice is still strained and short, but, again, that could just be the heat. He doesn’t pull over immediately and as you glance up you notice a sign for a motel not too far ahead.

Oh, good.

Ten minutes later, the tyres of the Blazer are screeching as he turns sharply into the parking lot of the motel. You have to grip at the handle of the door as he swings in, parking swiftly and braking hard.

“I’ll get rooms.” The words are said so sharply it’s like they’ve been punched out of him.

God, he really doesn’t want me to throw up in here.

Wait, ‘rooms’? Are we staying for a night? That’d be nice.

You both climb out, and you’re almost dizzy from the action. Hopper’s already striding towards the reception booth and you slowly follow after him, wiping the sweat from your brow. You have to walk with your legs slightly apart because your thighs rubbing together... What the fuck is going on? By the time you reach Hopper he’s already got a key and is turning on his heel, walking back behind you.

“C’mon.”

As he passes you, his elbow brushes against your arm and you both flinch because, fuck, a weird little electric shock thing happens. Except, whereas when that usually happens you only feel it on your skin, this time you feel it all over your body, spreading down and curling somewhere in your lower stomach.

And it felt good.

Beads of sweat run down your arms, back and chest as you follow him up a flight of stairs to the first floor. It takes every ounce of energy you have to get up there, whereas Hopper’s almost running. The door’s open when you finally reach it and he’s got the aircon on high which you’re grateful for. Closing the door behind yourself, you’re about to thank him when you look over at him and you notice that he’s drenched in sweat, just as you are.

He glances up and briefly meets your gaze before he runs a hand through his damp hair, his eyes sweeping the room as he paces, his eyebrows raised.

“Only one room left. Sorry.”

You shake your head, the action just increasing your nausea, as you shrug. “No, it’s okay. It’s not like we need to spend the night. Just... think I need a nap, or something. Feel like I’m gonna be sick.”

There’s a short silence in which you sit down on the nearest of the two double beds, your hands on your knees.

“Me, too.”

You look up at him, your brow dipping. “What?”

Hopper gestures at himself before he drops his hand, exhaling a hard breath. “Feel like... feel like I’m gonna be sick, too. Feel so fuckin’ hot, can’t think straight.”

“Yeah, me as well...” Your frown deepens. “Are we both sick?”

“How’s that possible?”

“I don’t know. It came on so suddenly, too, only after we left...”

You meet his gaze as he presses his lips together, following your train of thought.

“That son of a bitch...”

Crossing the room, he grabs the phone from the bedside table and dials Murray’s number. At any other time you would have laughed that he had it memorised. Like they’re pals.

His tongue darting over his lips, your eyes following it for some reason, he holds the phone to his ear, his jaw clenched.

Murray answers on the first ring.

“Hey, Murray—”

You can hear the other man even from where you’re sat.

“You broke the jar, didn’t you.”

“Uh, yeah, but I can—”

“Oh, you fucking idiot. Is she with you?”

Hopper’s eyes briefly dart to you. “Uh, yeah, hey, I’m sure it’s replaceable, I can pay—”

“One, no, it’s not, and two, it’s not me you should be thinking about, you ass.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“It means, are you feelin’ a little weird, Jim? Huh? Is your lady friend?”

“Uh...” He glances at you again before turning his back, lowering his voice slightly. “Yeah, why?”

You stood up instantly as he turned, and, ooff, there’s the dizziness again, though you manage to move closer to him, a frown pulling at your features as you tut, so you hear Murray’s humourlessly chuckled reply.

“Oooh, hoooo, you’re both in for quite a day.”

“Why, you fuckin’ asshole?”

“Let’s just say you’re going to be feeling certain urges... or maybe you’re already feeling them?”

Hopper glances at you yet again before turning his back away from you again. You hiss and move closer, brushing against him, which just makes you both grimace because there’s the electric current again. You try to stay as close as possible without touching him.

“Just tell me what’s fuckin’ goin’ on, Murray.”

“The best and most polite thing to call it would be an aphrodisiac.”

You frown as you glance up at Hopper, but he’s just staring at the wall.

“What? Why the fuck do you have something like this, Murray?”

“I was going to dilute it to sell in certain markets.”

“As what?”

“An aphrodisiac, dumbass.”

As Hopper snarls and opens his mouth, you grab the phone, your fingers brushing together making your stomach flip and something clench inside you.

Holding the phone to your ear, you swallow before exhaling a breath and murmuring, “What do we do, Murray? How do we stop feeling awful?”

He sighs, and you’re surprised and also slightly unsettled by his tone softening a little. “There’s not much you can do, except what you have wanted to do for a long time that neither of you will admit.”

Before you can speak, Hopper calls, even though he’s right beside you, “And what the hell does that mean?”

“Fuck each other!”

Your mouth drops open as you think your heart stops, and Hopper freezes beside you.

“I’m sorry... what?”

“Oh, come on, you know what I mean—”

“No, Murray, I mean,” you quickly cut him off, rubbing at your damp forehead as you lick your dry lips, your cheeks burning. “What did you, why would we need to, uhm, do that?”

"It’s the only way to ease the aches and pains, honey, that—”

“Pain?”

You’re aching, yes, but you wouldn’t say you’re in pain.

“Stop interrupting me, Jesus...” You press your lips together at his exasperated sigh, before he takes a breath. “The pollen from that flower is like an instant aphrodisiac. If it comes into contact with your skin, that’s it, kiddos, you’re horny. I was diluting it so it’s less lethal, hence why it was in that jar marinating in that liquid. I’m assuming you got some of it on you when you oh so cleverly broke it for no reason?”

“Yeah, but we didn’t mean to—”

“What did I say about interrupting? Depending on how much you got on you, you’re gonna feel hot, then your whole body’s gonna ache, then’ll come the urges and the pain, and once those hit, hooo... so you two had better get to it.”

You feel like you’re having some kind of a fever dream. Rubbing your forehead again, you close your eyes for a few moments as you almost trip over your words, “What, hang on, w-what do you mean by lethal, what happens if we don’t, you know, do anything? It’ll just wear off, won’t it?”

Murray’s silent.

Oh... this is bad.

“C’mon, Murray, answer her.” Hopper’s sudden voice makes you jump.

There’s a quiet sigh. “You gotta take care of each other, together, or... or you’ll die.”

It’s the first time you’ve ever heard Murray speak in an entirely gentle tone.

You don’t know what stuns you more; that, or his words.

“... What.” Your voice is so quiet.

Hopper is silent.

“I don’t know how much you were exposed to but no matter how much, the need and the pain, if nothing is done, can get so bad that your organs start to fail and shut down. If it was just a little, it’ll take longer, if it was a lot then I’d say it’s only a matter of time.”

“No, it... it was just a little. Few splashes. I think.” Your voice sounds far away to your own ears.

“Well, you’ve got some time, then. But it’s gonna be uncomfortable so get to it.”

“Right... Thanks, Murray.” You place the phone down, feeling so far out of your body, hanging up before he can say another word.

Silence.

You look up at Hopper as he clears his throat and moves away, being very careful not to brush against you, his hand running through his hair again. As he sits down in the armchair, you sit on the edge of the bed opposite, staring at the floor.

It’s... it’s... You don’t have the word for it. Wild. Outlandish. Crazy.

“He could be lying, right.” You look up at Hopper as he speaks, meeting his gaze. “He could be mad that we broke somethin’ of his and is just makin’ this all up.”

“Yeah,” is all you can think to say.

“This could just be a reaction to it.”

“Yeah...” You shrug after a moment, blowing out a breath. “Pretty fucking bizarre thing to make up.”

“Well, that’s Murray.”

You both fall silent as he stares at the wall and you stare at the bed. It’s got a patchwork blanket on it, all red squares with other panels of red floral designs. It reminds you of the damn flower. It’s like it’s taunting you. As are the beads of sweat sliding down your spine. And the new, faint, throbbing in your cunt.

You believe Murray.

It’s... wild and bizarre and you don’t understand it at all but, yes, you believe him. Your lips are suddenly dry, either from the realisation or the flower, and you lick them as you lift your gaze to Hopper. He’s still staring so intently at the wall, hands gripping the armrests.

His eyes flick to you as you speak gently.

“I think we should stay the night. Until this wears off. Don’t want to infect anyone else, if that’s possible.”

He nods curtly, expressionless. “Okay.”

Thankfully, Joyce has El for the night, Hopper having asked her to take her in case you both stayed longer than you thought you would, so that’s one less thing. You think about saying that out loud to him, then swiftly decide against it. Of course he’ll already thought about that, will probably take offence at you asking and think it implies you think he hasn’t.

You hate the silence of the room, though, hate the space it provides to think, so you continue instead with, “We’ll just... ride this shit out. It was only a few drops. We’ll be fine.”

Hopper may be expressionless, but what you can’t see are his blunt nails digging into the fabric of the chair. 

“Okay.”

—

It was a mistake, turning the TV on.

It’s too loud, too bright, but, fuck, you need the distraction. Your eyes are fixed on it like you’re possessed, and your shirt is soaked, sticking to your skin. Uncomfortable. Your skin is slick, you can feel sweat sliding down your face, arms, back. A loud commercial comes on and you grab the TV remote, turning it off as a wild burst of irritation suddenly flashes through you.

Focus on the room. Two double beds. Bare desk. Mini fridge. Bathroom. Standard motel room. Boring. Plain. Dull. So dull. Think about how dull it is.

It doesn’t work. It hasn’t been working for the last twenty minutes. Has it been twenty minutes? Longer? Less? You don’t know and you don’t want to know. Your body is aching, not only physically but with need, like you’ve never, ever felt before. You feel almost drunk, too, unchallenged words on the tip of your tongue, your brain doing the bare minimum to stop them from coming out... but they’re not just words, they’re pleas.

Touch me.

Kiss me.

Fuck me.

Your eyes dart to Hopper. He’s not moved but his shirt is soaked, too, the hair on his chest, peeking out the top of the grey, flannel button down, damp. That hair... You stare at it. How far down does it go... What would it feel like if you ran your fingers through it...

Your pussy clenches around nothing and tears start to sting at your eyes.

Fuck, I need to be touched.

The words leave your mouth before you can stop them, thick with unshed tears. “Hop’, I feel awful.”

A muscle in his jaw moves. “It’s just a reaction to whatever it is—”

“Yeah, and what if it’s the kind of reaction he was talking about?”

Hopper finally looks at you, brow dipping. “You believe him?”

You hate the way he says it, all disbelieving, making you feel like you’re an idiot. 

“Yeah, I do. Why would he lie, especially about something like this? Yes, he’s a dick, but he’s not this much of a dick. He’s more likely to just rip into us and go on and on than make something up.”

“You can’t say that, you don’t know him.”

Brushed off. Again.

Your chin rises slightly, meeting a challenge you might be imagining. “I’ve known him long enough.”

His jaw moves as he arches an eyebrow. “Oh, you hang out all the time do you? You best pals, know everythin’ about him?”

“No, it just doesn’t seem like him—”

“Doesn’t seem like your good pal Murray? How would you know? You can’t just make assumptions like that, he is a—”

The words lash out of you. “Oh, just shut the fuck up, Hopper.”

He pauses, lips still parted, his own words dying on his tongue... until new ones return, his eyebrows raising as his head tilts. “... Excuse me?”

Anger feels good, it channels some of this increasingly restless energy swirling inside you. “Just shut up, you’ve been a real asshole all week, all month, all the time I’ve God damn known you, actually—”

“You didn’t think I was an asshole at the Christmas party.”

You freeze, staring at him.

Last year’s Station Christmas party.

Why did he bring that up.

Was he thinking about that.

You know he was thinking about that.

Because you’ve been thinking about it, too, minutes earlier, intently. It had suddenly come rushing back to you, his hands on your waist, your lips on his, tongues stroking at each other, the moaned sigh you’d released as he’d pressed against you.

You’d both been drunk, though, and lonely and alcohol makes you horny so you’d wanted him to kiss you and he’d spent the last hour before it looking like he’d wanted to, too, your eyes constantly finding each other, looking, really looking, and then you’d just bumped into each other as you’d come out of the bathroom, but it seemed like he’d almost been waiting for you and then you’d talked, no, you’d flirted, he liked your dress, you liked his comically festive tie, and you were both laughing, your hands somehow on each other, maybe to steady yourselves, and then you’d... then you’d kissed.

Neither of you had brought it up, ever, until now. You’d been so horribly hungover the next day that you hadn’t even remembered it until late in the evening and you’d felt so embarrassed. You’d fretted for the rest of the night, wondering if you’d ruined your friendship and a relationship that meant so much to you, but when you’d gone into work the following Monday he hadn’t said a thing, hadn’t even looked at you differently. You’d been so incredibly relieved, but it had come back to you every now and then; how good his lips had felt, how passionate the kiss was, how his hands had felt on you.

All this time you’d thought he had just forgotten it... and it appeared that wasn’t the case at all. 

Your already warm face becomes warmer.

“I was drunk.”

He’s got a fucking smug look on his face, like a fucking petty bastard.

“You kissed me.”

“I did not.”

“You did, you pulled me in.”

“Oh, just shut up, Hopper, it doesn’t matter or count anyway because we were drunk.”

“Doesn’t it?”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“I saw the way you were lookin’ at me—”

“Why does it matter so much to you?” you snap, staring at him.

He pauses, the smug look quickly fading. Then, he shrugs, the corners of his mouth turning down. “It doesn’t.”

“Good, shut up, then.”

Silence descends.

And you fucking hate it. At least while snapping at one another you don’t think about how your panties are now soaked and you just want to feel some fingers against your cunt and a cock deep inside you...

A strained groan slips from your lips.

“You okay?” he mumbles, and you blow out a harsh breath.

“No, I’m not, I just—”

Oh, fuck.

You were just about to say it. You were just about to ask him to fuck you. Rolling your neck, your breaths slightly shorter, ragged, you lick your dry lips again.

What the fuck do I do, I’m literally about to ask my boss, my friend, the absolute pain in my ass to fuck me so I don’t, possibly, die.

Then, it comes to you.

“... You just what—”

“Just need the bathroom,” you cut him off exasperatedly, every intonation of his voice prickling your skin, and not in an entirely unpleasant way.

“Jesus, fine,” he mutters, and you hope he doesn’t notice how quickly you turn your back to him as you stand, striding towards the wooden door to the bathroom.

Closing it firmly behind you and turning the lock, you step back from it, releasing a breath that has your shoulders relaxing minutely. You catch your reflection in the mirror to your left and release another breath at your expression; sweaty, tense, and, yes, there’s a trace of panic in your eyes.

Just do it. Do it then you’ll stop thinking about it and then it’ll be over and you’ll feel okay.

Your fingers, seemingly of their own accord, move to your jeans, fumbling with the button and zip. In your haste, the zip catches on the material and tears fill your eyes again.

Oh, come on, come on, come on, please...

You don’t realise you’re murmuring the words out loud, so fixated on what your fingers are doing. Finally after a moment or so you can shove them down, your panties with them, and then you’re spreading your legs as one hand braces against the door and the other slides between your pussy lips.

You can just about muffle the moan that falls from your mouth as your finger tips glide back and forth over your clit, your teeth sinking into your lower lip.

Oh, fuck...

It feels heavenly, unlike any pleasure you’ve felt before from a first touch. You’re dripping, too, so soaking wet that you can hear it as your fingers quicken their pace... but it’s not enough.

How is it not enough?

Tears are slipping out of the corners of your eyes as you grit your teeth, a need so desperate coursing through you that it’s painful.

What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck... Why isn’t it working?

You slip two fingers inside your pussy, hoping filling yourself even a little will help but... no. It just makes you crave a cock inside you even more, increasing the aching that’s running through your entire body.

Oh, please, come on—

Two gentle knocks sound against the door. You freeze again, mouth open as your fingers stay buried inside you.

A throat clears on the other side, and then Hopper speaks, voice slightly muffled.

“Hey, uh... I’m sorry for snappin’, and for my shitty attitude, I... I know I haven’t been the best to be around lately...”

His words just become sounds as a kind of white-noise, ringing starts in your head.

Oh, no, no, no... No...

Your cunt is throbbing. You can’t help but think about him murmuring those apologies in your ear as his cock thrusts slow and deep inside you, as he tells you he’ll make it all up to you, everything, that you feel so good around his cock and he wants to make you feel so good all the time...

As your hand drops and you straighten, you don’t think you have absolute control of your body anymore. 

And you don’t fucking care.

Unlocking and yanking the door open, you instantly meet Hopper’s gaze, watching him blink as he abruptly silences whatever he was saying.

“Woah, you okay?”

How is he so normal? Yes, he’s sweating, profusely, but that’s it, seemingly. What a sight you must look in comparison. You watch his gaze travel down you, settling on your jeans and panties that are around your knees. His eyes dart back up to yours, and you watch his slick throat bob as he swallows hard.

“What the hell you doin’.”

You can hear your own breathing, ragged, short. Staring at him, you don’t know if it’s sweat or tears running down your cheeks.

“Hop’, I need you to touch me.”

It’s as if you’ve just asked him to detonate a bomb. His eyes widening, his mouth moves but nothing comes out for quite a few moments.

“I... Hey, now, hang on—”

“Please.” At any other time you might have been embarrassed for sounding so tragically desperate. “I tried, I tried to touch myself and it didn’t work, I’m aching so bad, please—”

“Sweetheart—”

That nearly has your knees weakening, a faint sound emitting from the back of your throat. He swallows again at hearing it and runs a hand down his mouth, shaking his head.

“I mean—”

“Fuck, Hop’, please. Don’t you feel it, too? I feel like, my, my, my whole body is just in pain, it fucking hurts, Hop’.”

You don’t know whether he feels it, too, or he’s just pitying you, because confliction is rife across his face.

And then he takes a step back, and he might as well have punched you in the stomach with the gasped breath that releases from you.

No, no, no, no...

“Hop’...”

He takes another step back, unable to stop his gaze from flicking down to where your hands are pushing your jeans and panties down and off, your shoes with them, kicking them aside. Then, he looks away, so sharply and suddenly, his fingers flexing by his sides.

“I can’t.”

“Why.”

You can’t think of any reason that would be damn good enough right now.

Hopper can’t look at you as he shakes his head again. “It’s not right, you don’t want this, it’s just the flower—”

“I want this, I want you, Hop’, I need you...” You’ve stepped towards him, your hands on his chest, sliding over his damp shirt, fisting it in your hands. “... I need you inside me...”

His jaw is so tight, his whole body is, you can feel his muscles underneath your hands, and his breathing is harsher. He raises a hand, which you don’t notice is shaking until he places it on one of your forearms. You wait for him to try and pull it away, but he just grips it lightly.

“You... You don’t want me really, this, this isn’t right—”

“I do, I do...” Your chin lifts and your lips brush against his jaw, and you swear you hear him groan quietly. You cling onto it, even if it isn’t real, and the words tumble out of you. “... I’ve thought about you before, inside me, making me cum, I’ve fucked myself imagining it was you before, so many times, please, Hop’, I’m begging you...”

He must have groaned because now his head is tilted against yours, lips against your cheekbone. His thumb is brushing against your inner wrist, too, so lightly. You press against him... and feel it.

His cock straining against his jeans.

Maybe it’s not just you, then. The arm he isn’t gripping moves, your hand dropping to settle on his thigh, your fingers caressing.

“Please, Hop’...” you whisper.

You know he groans this time, his lips so close to your ear. You know he’s seconds from crumbling, too, his hips angling towards your hand, his hand sliding from your wrist to your bicep, head turning closer towards yours, lips inches away—

Then, he freezes, a breath hissing out through his teeth.

He doesn’t move away but, staring at him, you can see the confliction return and even some anger that washes over his features.

“Hop’—”

“This isn’t the way I wanted it to be.”

You pause, lips parted so your harsh breaths can escape audibly. He hadn’t wanted to say that. He’d hissed the words out, eyes unable to meet yours, in fact he’s now closed them; regret swirling inside him.

But you can only think about one thing right now. 

You’re shaking with relief and anticipation. “... You’ve thought about me, too, then.”

A statement, not a question.

His eyes open, finding yours. “Yeah.”

You relish every word you say. “Then fuck me like you’ve wanted to.”

Any last restraint he has crumbles.

And he must have be in just as much pain as you because it happens in mere seconds.

Hopper’s hand grips the back of your head, holding you close and tight against him as his lips crash against yours. A combination of a sob and a moan emits from the back of your throat as you grip at his shirt, desire burning through your veins. His other arm wraps around your lower back and part of your brain is grateful for his strong grip because then he’s suddenly turning you and walking you back towards the closest bed.

The backs of your legs knock against it and you fall back on the soft covers, and it’s like he didn’t let you go at all as he’s already on top of you, one arm by the side of your head, the hand of the other resting on your torso, fingers splayed. One leg is between yours to hold himself up and your brain is working so fast, trying to find any way to soothe what your body is crying out for, that it takes you a moment to initiate its plan. Shifting down, your back arching with the movement, you start to rock your bare cunt against his thigh. The moaned cry you release is swallowed by his mouth, but he gives a groan in return.

“Fuck...” he hisses, feeling how wet you are as you’ve already soaking through his jeans.

The material is rough but that just makes it more heavenly against your swollen, aching clit and folds. Gripping his biceps, your lips tear from his as you tip your head back with a loud moan, eyes closed tightly. It’s not enough but it still feels so fucking good.

It takes you a few moments to realise he’s pushed your shirt and bra up, and his lips instantly descend upon your hard nipples, kissing, licking, sucking, pulling with his teeth slightly.

Tears are sliding down your cheeks in relief and a smile is pulling at your lips because—

“Yes...” you gasp, fingers curling tightly into his hair, tugging at his scalp.

His hips jerk as you do, and his grunts tell you just how much he likes it. So you do it again, and again, and again... and realise he’s grinding his hips against your thigh, just like you’re doing to him.

“Fu-uck...” he growls against your chest, his mouth moving in a deliciously sloppy way up your skin to your neck.

You whine as he kisses you there, your head tipping back, teeth sinking into your lower lip.

It’s so, so fucking good... but it’s still not enough.

“Hop’, need more...”

“Shh, don’t worry, baby, I know...”

How can he string words together? You had just about managed to breathe yours out.

What delicious words they were, though.

You must have done something in response to them, bucked your hips a certain way or made a sound, you don’t quite know because your mind is starting to feel like liquid, because he’s suddenly smiling now.

A lazy, smug smile that makes you clench.

Gazing down at you, his hands splay across your waist, and he presses his thigh a little harder against your cunt, which has your back arching.

“You like when I call you baby, huh? When I talk to you?”

“Yeah…” is all you can so eloquently answer with.

“That’s good to know.”

How is he capable of this much talking? Does the pollen enhance sexual characteristics that are already there?

Whatever it does, you can’t think on it much further because the hand on your waist is now travelling down your stomach, and you’re about to complain at his thigh suddenly disappearing when they’re now replaced by his long fingers sliding over your cunt.

“Oh, fuck…” you gasp as he groans, your eyes falling shut.

“Jesus, baby, you’re so fuckin’ wet, you’re fuckin’ dripping…”

You don’t even bother trying to respond. Gripping at his shoulders, all you can do is moan as three of his fingers drag up and down your folds. When they move over your clit, you don’t know whether it’s a sob or a moan that falls from your open mouth. Either way, pure pleasure courses through you. Maybe at any other point you would have cum right there and then from how intense it is, but you need something inside you. Whatever is happening, that’s all you know.

“God, Hop’, please…”

“I know, baby…”

And as he says the words, he pushes two of his fingers inside you.

“Yes…” you cry, your hips pushing down so they slide all the way inside you, but if you’d been coherent enough to you would have bet he would have done so anyway.

“Jesus…” he hisses, tone strained, and he instantly starts to slip them in and out of you, sinking them in as far as he can each time. “… You’re so fuckin’ wet…”

He groans again when you clench down on his fingers, and it seems to break whatever kind of resolve he was still holding onto, however the hell he was holding on to it.

A pitiful whine of protest escapes you when his fingers pull out, and he just nods swiftly, strands of hair falling over his forehead as he rises up onto his knees.

“I know, sweetheart, I know, just let me… Fuck…”

Lifting your head, you watch him shift backwards until his boots can touch down on the ground, but it’s only a moment before he’s kneeling on the floor and then his hands are wrapping around your thighs, widening them, and then he’s lowering his head and then… and then…

Your mouth drops open wider as your hands dart to his hair, plunging in once again as his tongue licks a long, wide path up your folds.

“Just needed to fuckin’ taste you…” he mumbles against you, the vibration of his voice making you mewl.

If his hands weren’t keeping your thighs apart you would have wrapped them around his head. All you can do, though, is rock your hips and grind against his tongue. He growls with pleasure, and just as you inhale a breath to beg for more, he pushes three fingers inside of you.

Three.

Three of his thick, long fingers slide inside you with no resistance or pain at all, and you throw your head back with a loud cry as you clench around them.

“Fu-uck...” he groans, curling them a little, stroking inside you. “... Look how fuckin’ easy that was, huh... How fuckin’ easy are you gonna take my cock, baby? Huh? Is it gonna slide right in? Fill you all up on the first stroke?”

Again, at any other time, you would have cum right there and then, but... somehow it’s just not enough.

Gritting your teeth, because while it’s not enough, the pleasure is still so fucking good, you release a sound between a sob and a moan.

“Hop’... Fucking need more...”

“You want my cock in you, sweetheart, huh?”

“Please.”

He groans again, and then you hear it.

He’s stroking his cock in swift, firm movements, and you want to be doing that, you want to be touching him, tasting him, pleasuring him, and—

“Want you to cum on my tongue, wanna fuckin’ taste you,” he mumbles against your pussy, lapping at you again, and you have to take in a few ragged breaths before you can speak.

“... Can’t... Not enough... Need your cock...”

“Christ...” He exhales a breath that closely resembles another growl. “... Do you know what hearin’ those words does to me, huh? Oh, you’re gonna cum on my cock, baby, but I’ve fuckin’ dreamed about you cumming in my mouth so you know what you’re gonna do?” He lifts his head, and you open your half-lidded eyes to look at him. “... You’re gonna cum on my tongue.”

And lowering his head again, he sucks hard at your aching clit.

And maybe it is just enough, because your back is arching and you’re pulling at his hair and he’s having to tighten his grip on your thigh and tears of relief or maybe it’s beads of sweat are sliding down your cheeks because yes, yes, yes...

You don’t realise you’re chanting the word as your climax builds, and when it rolls through you, a blissful serenity follows it...

That lasts all of a few seconds before you’re squirming again, the throbbing in your core somehow sharper, more desperate.

Hopper, however, is sucking and licking at you still, lapping up your release as he moans, an arm moving to settle over your lower stomach. Opening your eyes, you gaze down at him and see his hand working over his cock still and you want to move and touch him but his arm is keeping you down and his tongue is continuing to move so deliciously against your cunt.

And then he’s releasing short, sharp groans, and his hips are jerking and his hand is starting to slow, and then he cums, and you can only watch as it trickles down his fingers.

No, no, no, you want to feel him cum, you want it inside you—

He lifts his head, licking his lips, and the hunger still burning in his eyes steals your breath away.

He rises, and you can only watch with ragged breaths as he kicks his boots away and pushes his trousers and boxers off. His dick is still hard, pressed flat against his stomach, tip red and weeping.

“You want my cock? You want my fuckin’ cock inside you...?” he’s murmuring, and your eyes dart up to meet his as you release a breath.

“God, fuck, yes, Hop’...”

“C’mere...” He’s suddenly on top of you, then, cupping the top of your head with his large hand as he props himself up on his elbow. It eases some more of the pain a little, having him crowd you, feeling his skin on yours, but you both know exactly what you need.

His eyes are boring down into yours, and your nails are digging into shoulders, and then, finally, you feel the tip of his cock against your cunt.

“Mhm, yeah, fuck, inside me...” you’re breathing, pleading, half out of your mind with need as you nod.

And then, without any more teasing or talking, his thick cock slides all the way inside you.

Your eyes squeeze shut as you cry out and your back arches. Pure pleasure and relief and bliss overwhelms you, and you haven’t even cum on him yet. In fact, he can’t move yet because you’re clenched so tightly around him, your slick walls gripping at him like your cunt doesn’t want him to ever leave.

His breaths are short, sharp, strained, and his hand has moved to rest under your head, a gesture that, at any other time, you would have recognised as tender.

“Oh, fuck, baby... Fuck... Feel every inch of my dick... You feel it, huh?”

Words aren’t possible anymore, so you can only nod, eyes still shut tight, and your breaths fall away into moans as he kisses at your neck, all of them sloppy, uncoordinated, needy, and you suddenly realise he’s murmuring to you.

“... Wanna fuckin’ move, wanna make you feel so fuckin’ good, wanna cum in your wet cunt and feel you cum on me, want you screamin’ my fuckin’ name...”

As if his words were the key, you unclench around him with a whine of desire, and, with a hiss, he instantly draws his hips back and then snaps them forward, sinking fully into you once again.

Fucking lighting zips through your body, you’ve never felt anything like it.

He must feel it, too, because he doesn’t stop for one moment, drawing all the way back and thrusting right back into you to the hilt, each time harder than the last and, distantly, you can hear the headboard smacking against the wall.

“... Good girl... Good fuckin’ girl...” he’s growling through gritted teeth, and you realise you are because you’re doing exactly as he wanted.

You’re shouting his name amongst your moans.

And not even just ‘Hop’ or ‘Hopper’; ‘Jim’ is falling from your lips, and each time he hears it his hips snap forward just that little bit harder.

“Yeah, baby, good fuckin’ girl... Good girl... Fuckin’ Christ... Can you hear how fuckin’ wet you are? Listen to how fuckin’ good you take my cock, baby... Take it... Fuck, take it...”

Nevermind listening, it’s how he feels inside you that’s making sparks skitter across your skin. He fills and stretches you perfectly, dragging and sliding against your sensitive walls deliciously each time. You’re not going to last much longer, the last coherent part of your mind knows, and it nearly makes you sob with both relief and dread.

You never want this fucking feeling to end, it’s all so good, so fucking good but you know it’s just going to feel even better when you cum, when you feel him cum.

Managing to open your eyes, you find his gaze still on you, flicking from your parted lips to your chest.

“... Cum...” you whisper, voice hoarse, and you have to swallow before you try again. “... Cum inside me, please... Want to feel you cum... Fill me with your cum...”

“Yeah?” His jaw is tight, eyes boring into your own again. “... Wanna feel my fuckin’ cum fillin’ you up, baby, huh? Want my fuckin’ cum leaking out of you?”

“Yes”, you chant over and over and over breathlessly, gaze fixed on his, unable to look away because his hips are stuttering in their rhythm, just slightly, but enough that you know.

He’s close.

“Cum, cum for me...” you start to plead now, “... Wanna feel you cum, cum inside me, Jim, please... I need it...”

“Yeah, you fuckin’ need it, baby?” he grunts, voice low, gravelling.

“Yeah, give it to me, please...”

“Take it, fuckin’ take it, take my cum...” He groans sharply then, mouth dropping open. “... Fuck...” His hand darts out from under your head and grips at the bedcovers, and with a few more thrusts, he then buries deep inside you and cums with a shout, eyes shut tight.

And euphoria spreads through you.

You feel his cum spill inside you, and the pleasure that courses through you from the sensation sends you spiralling into your own release. Gripping at his arms, nails digging in probably to the point of pain, you throw your head back and cry out.

It’s unlike any bliss you’ve ever felt before.

For a few moments you may even black out as it rolls through you in wave upon wave upon wave.

Hopper feels closer, as well, as if he’s collapsed slightly but just about managed to hold himself up in time. His lips are against your jaw, and you can feel his panted breaths, his lightly trembling frame.

Oh, you’re trembling, too, can hear it in your own breaths.

At least you can try and calm your heart rate, now, because it must be over, it has to be. It’s been done now, it’s...

It’s...

It’s...

It’s still there. That strange energy, whatever the hell it is. It’s not as intense now, but it’s there. Enough so that you lick your lips and gaze up at him, finger tips gliding down his arms.

“Hop’... I can still feel it.”

It’s a few moments before his eyes open, and when his gaze meets yours, and you realise he���s still hard inside you, you know before he speaks what he’s going to say.

“... Me, too.”

Neither of you speak, or move, just gaze at each other. Enough sense has returned that you take these few moments to breathe, but not enough that when those moments do start to stretch on... you just can’t help yourself.

Teeth sinking into your lower lip, you start to slowly roll your hips.

His eyes fall shut with a guttural groan, and your involuntary mewl answers him.

When his eyes then snap open, you also can’t help the smile that pulls at the corners of your mouth.

“You not satisfied yet?” he murmurs, voice dangerously low, and you shake your head as your tongue glides across your lips.

“Fuck me again, Jim.”

His thumb and forefinger are suddenly gripping your chin, and his lips hover over yours as he exhales a breath.

“It not enough that my cum is fillin’ you up? You need some fuckin’ more?”

“Yeah...” you breathe, trying to lift your chin higher so you can kiss him, but he holds firm.

“You want me to fuck you again, sweetheart?”

“Please, Jim...”

His lips brush against yours, and it’s the lightest of touches, but it’s enough to have you moaning as you rock your hips again.

“Please...”

“Well, seein’ as you’ve been a good fuckin’ girl...”

Pulling back, he rises up onto his knees, and pulls out of you. You mewl softly at feeling empty now, but you’re instantly distracted by his hands gripping your thighs, keeping them parted wide, and the fact his eyes are fixed on your cunt.

“Fuck... Your pussy looks so pretty with my cum spilling out of it...”

Fucking hell.

“Hop’, please, fuck me, I need you again, I need your cock—”

“I know, baby, I know.” Your words have his gaze tearing away and returning to your own, and he releases your thighs with a groan. “Turn over. On your stomach.”

You don’t need telling twice.

Except you have your own demand.

“Take your shirt off, I want to feel all of you.”

When his fingers fly to the buttons of it and start undoing them, then you roll over onto your front, resting your cheek against the covers.

You hear him toss it aside, and then his fingers are sliding down your back, over your ass and to your cunt. His fingertips caress your pussy lips lightly, gliding up and down, and your eyes fall shut at the gentle waves of pleasure that pulse through you. He’s toying with your mixed cum, gently pushing it back inside you and spreading it along your cunt.

“Jesus Christ...” he breathes, half in awe, half aroused.

Any other time you would have left him indulge himself for as long as he wanted, but the desperate need inside you is growing once more.

“Jim... Fuck me...”

You’ve only just finished pleading him, when his cock sinks inside you, this time in a slow, long thrust.

As your mouth drops open in a high moan, your fingers gripping onto the covers, he releases a long groan, eyes fixed on his dick disappearing inside you.

“Fuck, look at that...” His hands grip your ass, spreading you open wider. “... Take me so fuckin’ good... So fuckin’ good...”

Your eyes nearly roll back when you close them, as he starts to repeatedly give you slow, long thrusts, watching his own cock spread your soaked lips apart. You’re nearly delirious with pleasure, cunt pulsing around him, and when you feel him move, you can’t even open your eyes.

He settles over you, holding himself up on his forearm while his other hand slides under your neck and grips it gently, making you lift your head, tipping it back a little.

And now his lips are right against your ear.

“Fucking perfection... Like you were fuckin’ made for my cock, huh, sweetheart?”

You can only moan in reply as his thrusts speed up a little.

The position you’re now in somehow makes it feel more delicious than before, like his cock is somehow filling you even more. You now focus on the lewd sounds caused by how wet your pussy is, too, and it’s so lewd, so filthy and hot that it’s making your stomach clench.

You must clench around him again, too, because he inhales a ragged breath before speaking.

“You gonna cum for me again?”

“Yeah...” you breathe, mind starting to turn blank.

“Gonna cum on my hard cock? Soak it and the fuckin’ bed?”

“Please...”

It feels more intense this time, the mounting pleasure, and your fingers twist into the bed covers as you try and ground yourself. He’s murmuring into your ear still, hand on your throat still gentle.

“... what a good fuckin’ girl you are, taking my cock so good, gonna take my cum again, huh? How many times can I cum in this pretty little pussy, how many times can I fill you up until you’re satisfied, huh...”

It’s all too much, too good...

Your orgasm crashes over you.

Your brow dipping, your mouth dropping open, a scream is pulled from your throat, and the world goes dark.

—

Your eyes snap open.

Oh, fuck.

There’s a slight pounding in your head, the beginnings of a headache most likely from dehydration.

Annoying.

When did I last have a drink, though? Or eat? Must’ve been...

Oh.

It all comes flooding back to you.

That... That actually happened?

Releasing a soft groan, you lift a heavy hand to try and rub at your forehead—

Another hand catches it, and the space beside you dips slightly.

“Hey, hey, woah, you okay?”

Your gaze darts to the source, and you find Hopper sat there, concern etched across his features. You don’t have time to think about it or answer, though, as he swiftly releases your hand and a glass of water suddenly appears before you.

“Here, drink this.”

Sitting up a little, you drink deeply, your throat dry, raw, actually, and the entire contents is nearly gone when you finally lower it, gasping a breath in.

He takes the glass from you, placing it on the bedside table, and as you lick your lips and adjust against the pillows, he watches you, fingers rubbing against his mouth.

Clearing his throat after a few moments, he ask quietly, “You okay?”

Is it too soon to tell him that was probably the best fuck of your life?

Raising your eyebrows, a light smile pulls at your lips. “Yeah. A little sore, but...” Your smile fades as he looks down at his hands, his jaw moving. “... Oh, Hop’, I didn’t—”

He can’t look at you, his head shaking. “I am so... I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Hey, no, don’t be.” Leaning forward, you place your hand on his arm, hating that he stiffens. “We couldn’t control ourselves—”

“I could’ve, I could’ve held out longer, I could’ve locked myself in that fucking bathroom, I just...” He looks fucking devastated.

Shifting closer, you wrap your other hand around his arm, tightening your grip. “You shouldn’t be sorry. I mean it. I...” Well, it’s now or fucking never, and all things considered... “... I wanted it, Hop’. Even without that aphrodisiac thing. I wanted you. I have for a long time.”

Your face is burning and your heart is pounding but relief settles on your shoulders the moment you finish speaking.

His head turns towards you now, gaze darting to meet yours, searching it. “You... You’re not lyin’ to me?”

Your lips lifting again, you shake your head before murmuring, “No.”

Hopper exhales a breath, his hand setting over both of yours. “I’ve... Fuck, I’ve wanted you, too. Just... I imagined it going a little differently.”

You give a soft laugh as delight overwhelms you, and his thumb brushes against your skin. “Yeah, we really skipped the first date, didn’t we.”

“In the traditional sense.” He smiles as you laugh again, but it’s gone just as soon as it arrived. “... You sure you’re okay?”

You don’t care how foolish you look, with your tender smile, gaze openly filled with affection. Probably because his gaze is exactly the same.

“I am. Really. It’s a good sore.”

A corner of his mouth lifts. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Your teeth graze over your lower lip. “I wouldn’t mind getting used to it.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I’d hoped you’d say that...”

Cupping your cheek, he closes the gap between you and kisses you tenderly, the pad of his thumb brushing against your skin gently. It’s sweet, gentler than you had ever imagined him to be.

It’s perfect.

When his lips leave yours but he remains close, you smile again. “I guess we can give Murray a thorough review, then.”

He growls quietly as he brushes his nose against yours. “Don’t talk about that man right now...”

As he moves closer, laying you back on the bed, your arms slide around his neck and your smile widens.

“Yes, Chief.”

—

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#jim hopper x reader #chief hopper x reader #hopper x reader #chief jim hopper x reader #jim hopper #jim hopper smut #my writing #flamehairedwritings #just a goofy sexy time

[bobeni]

  ⠀   ⠀   ⠀ ‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎O23 ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ፧ ‎ ‎EGGS AISLE ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏♡ ‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎

✶ users! › denji, m!reader.

✶ synopsis! › it could no longer be simply considered a coincidence; with how denji always seemed to pop up at the same time, at the same little store, just to see you.

✶ wrdcnt! › 1,586.

✶ cw’s! › fluff, possible ooc here we go, simp denji, trio stuff in the beginning, this is probably unnecessarily long lmao. i used they/them for the reader for one line, btw.

“Aw crap, we’re out of cereal and milk again! I’ma head out to the store to get some more!” Denji shouted as he zipped past two lazy bodies to the front door, snatching his hoodie off the rack with poorly disguised eagerness.

Aki sighed, looking up from the creased daily newspaper. “Again? That’s the third time this month.” His orbs followed Denji’s haste movements to shrug on the clothing.

The blond barely spared him a glance as he tried to fix his bedhead, “Yeah, yeah, I know, right? It’s bogus how Power keeps eating it all.” He feigned understanding just as said girl squawked at the blame now delivered to her shoulders. “What the fuck? I haven’t even touched the cereal since two weeks ago!” She yelled, mouth full of her breakfast, unfortunately it was just amalgamation of bacon and eggs.

“Ya can’t fool me, Powy, I know you sneak around in the middle of night, scarfing that shit down.” The gobsmacked look on blonde’s face was one Denji could remember for centuries.

“You bi一” as she was prepared to scream her indignation, she was stopped in her tracks by Aki’s agitated groan, followed by Denji’s so-called reassurance.

“Don’t worry, though,” the boy flicked the lock open, stepping an inch outside the apartment with every syllable. “I’ll make sure to replenish your stash, so don’t wait up!” Denji grinned at that last part, officially saying his leave to the both of them, the door narrowly missing his behind with how fast he tried to shut it.

With the boy off and out, Aki’s eyes lingered on the door. But they began to narrow in suspicion, prompting him to rise from the coach and walk into the kitchen for further investigation.

However, his investigation ended as soon as it started. The man found not just one, but several boxes of cereal, moderately filled. As well as the milk, as far back in fridge as it was, half full. This made his face scrunch up in confusion as he shut the fridge and leaned against it to turn his attention to Power一who now had a lap full of Meowy, clearly had to have been ruffled by the morning ruckus and sauntered out of their bedroom.

“Power,” Aki started. She nodded in his direction, still stuffing her face. “We’re still good on breakfast一he’s not just ‘going to the store,’ is he?” He wondered aloud, sighing at the thought of Denji pulling some shit.

“Yes, see!” she jabbed a finger in the air, “He’s up to something. Something... I can assume is very stupid.” Then Power just pets a purring Meowy as Aki shakes his head at it all.

Geez, that was close, Denji thought as he strolled down the sidewalk. It was getting real tiring having to think excuses pertaining to various foods they did or didn’t have. Many apologies and more to his family, but he couldn’t let them know the reason why he had those excuses for where he was going一especially not Power, god, he’d probably never hear the end of it.

Oh, what was the reason exactly?

He has a crush.

That’s right, the reason why he began waking up early in the morning and trying to make sure not a single hair was out of place一well, in his own unique way一was because someone is after Denji’s heart. And he’d so let them take it if they pleased.

One day when it was actually his duty to do some shopping, at this little grocery store a few blocks down from his apartment, is where he met you.

He was only there to gather the items on the short list that Aki handed over to him that morning, but when you stepped up next to him while he was eying two freaky looking fish, and the shy offer for assistance flew out of your mouth, he found himself a bit touched.

“But you don’t even work here, though?” was what he said back then, now eying you.

“Do I have to work here in order to help out some clearly indecisive guy?” The little chuckle that you ended your rebuttal with was unfortunately cute enough that it made his heart jump in his chest. When you leaned over to help him pick the better fish, his heart was absolutely drumming at how close you were and how easily his hand could slip into yours.

He didn’t say a single word of complaint when you offered to help him finish up his shopping; he just let his cheeks burn a bright pink while he trailed behind you with two baskets and hearts for eyes.

After that day, every other week or so he’d pop up at the store, yearning to see you, while also juggling his best attempts to make his appearances look normal and coincidental.

It was a flawless plan in his mind. Every day you two seemed to be getting closer and closer; then soon, he couldn’t deny the hope that lingered.

Even if it should’ve been embarrassing一considering how easily he fell for you after only meeting a handful of times. But he couldn’t really find it in himself to give a fuck.

Denji smiled proudly, maybe he could finally get to do all the things couples do with you.

Meanwhile the blond was gushing, it didn't occur to him that had already arrived at the store until he heard that familiar bell’s jingle giving him the signal.

Then he let his eyes wander, searching the store trying to pick you out of the bustling crowd of shoppers. He stumbled upon right when he almost missed you; you were crouched down by a vending machine, mashing away at the buttons.

With a little bit of pep in his step, he made a b-line for you.

“Good mornin’, [name].” Denji jostled the keys in his pocket when he tried to wave. You looked up at the approach and softly smiled at him. “Hi there, Denji. You doing some shopping again?” you made casual conversation as you were inserting money into the slot. Pink dusted his cheeks as he immediately responded with no, in his head. But in real life he stuck with a shy confirmation and told you that he just needed some cereal.

But as you were prepared to say something else, you were interrupted by two bags of chips spilling out of the bottom.

“Holy shit, what did you do?” Denji was cackling at the surprise you exuded.

“I don’t even fucking know,” you chuckled, pushing yourself up from the ground. “But how perfect is this?” the smile on your face was too warm, too soft, he almost ignored the next words that came out of your mouth.

“One for me, and one for you, Denji.”

You held out a bag for him and he stared in disbelief.

“You’re... gonna share with me?” He hesitantly reached for the bag, awaiting your next answer.

Still smiling you told him exactly what he wanted to hear, “I’ll always split stuff with people I like. Obviously.”

Obviously, you said. You also said that he’s one of the people you like. Obviously.

He was so glad it was obvious to you because he clearly missed a chapter or two一but he didn’t care, this was what he was hoping for the entire time. Maybe he’s got it.

“[Name]...” Denji called as you were already munching on your bag of chips. You immediately caught his eye, humming as you wait for the moment the boy was ready to speak.

“I... I just want ya to know that I really, really like you.” The blond laid his heart out on the table. “And I wanna date you and一nd take you out someday...?” He squeezed his eyes shut and focused on the chatter of civilians the longer you kept quiet. And he was actually so ready to bolt out of the store right about now if this goes down a road he hadn’t hoped for.

But there you go, exceeding his expectations again.

“I know,” is what you said.

Denji’s eyes snapped open at that and you laughed at the shock written all over his face.

“You know? Wha一Whaddya mean you knew?” Because of the shock, Denji’s voice also was getting louder so you took his hand and led him outside to avoid any suspicious eyes. Though you were laughing along the way, Denji was angry pouting as he tried to shush you.

Calming down a bit, you stuttered out apologies before confessing. “I’m sorry, Denji, but it’s not like you tried to hide it or anything一” his mouth fell open. “I coulda sworn I was being subtle!” That was one of his most natural build ups for a confession, like, ever.

“You have the subtlety of a puppy,” you covered your face as you snort. “But that’s okay because it’s one of the things I like about you.” He flushed red underneath your teasing gaze.

“So... ya really do like me then?” Denji didn’t take his eyes off of you this time. This new smile of yours formed cute little crinkles around your eyes and he thinks it’s one of his favorites.

“If I say yes, would you be my boyfriend?” The sly question had Denji’s heart doing flips. He’d love nothing more than to wear the title of your boyfriend and to have you as his.

So he answered with a kiss.

✶ notes! › i actually completed this holy mf shit i did not have hope. i still think it’s literally too long for my original plan but whatever i’m kinda happy with what i came up with.

#✧ ˖ ⠀ sin’s joint . ❜ #i. ֺ ۪ 𝅄 ▸ ⠀ the sky just seems so blue . ❜ #ִֶָ𖤐˚ ⠀ csm. #ִֶָ𖤐˚ ⠀ denji. #csm x male reader #chainsaw man x male reader #denji x male reader #csm x black!reader #chainsaw man x black!reader #male reader #black male reader #male reader insert #x male reader

[simpleeindulge]

It's a Work in Progress

Context: This takes place after a few months of Law setting sail for the first time with Shachi, Bepo, and Penguin. They are a new pirate crew finding their way to the Grand Line. Desperate for funds, Law’s crew resort to kidnapping.

Info: fem/readerxLaw, kidnapping, 1st time meeting, slow-burn romance, multiple parts, cursing, mild threats of violence, possible mature content in future chapters

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Ch 3. NOW WHAT!

Y/N uttered an enraged cry as she was tossed into a small closet and heard the door slam shut. If the man didn't want to listen to her, he should have just said so. Instead, Law pulled her up from the chair and unnecessarily picked her over his shoulder. Y/N shouted for him to set her down and listen to her.

Law felt a twinge of satisfaction when he dumped the spoiled brat onto the floor. Who the hell was she to tell him what to do? This was his ship and crew. He would protect them from her insane father how he saw fit. Law left the office and quickly headed to the control room.

Thankfully, the new helmsman, Hakugan, knew how to handle the Polar Tang. He expertly dodged the cannonballs being fired at them.

"Captain! That man is crazy! Does he know we have his daughter?!" Hakugan shouted as he turned the wheel.

Law huffed and walked into the center of the room, ignoring the question. "What's the damage so far? Are we able to dive?"

The crew glanced at each other to see who would tell Law the bad news. Law made an annoyed sound and glanced at Bepo, who immediately responded, "Sorry, Captain! We have taken too much damage to dive underwater, and most of the repairs are already destroyed!"

He gives in so quickly! The crew thought together.

Law growled and turned to head towards the deck.

"Um, Captain, what are you-?" Bepo asked with a confused expression.

"Everyone stay here! I will handle this!" Law shouted before turning out of the room. The crew glanced at each other again, and everyone but Hakugan went to see what Law planned to do.

Law stood on the deck with his sword, Kikoku, over his shoulder. He sighed as three cannonballs whizzed through the air and lazily lifted his hand.

“Room.” He drawled and the wide phantom dome spread over the ship.

His sword then cut through the cannonballs before they hit the ship. This would do to protect them for now, but Law knew he needed a better plan. The Polar Tang was still in close range, and the crazed noble didn't seem to be giving up as Law sliced eight more cannonballs.

Law gritted his teeth as a bead of nervous sweat ran down his temple. If only he had a chance to get more information about the island and the royal family living there, but it was supposed to be a quick pit stop. He sliced up twenty more cannonballs when Bepo came running with a transponder snail in his paws.

"Captain! It's a call from the enemy ship!"

Law sighed and took the receiver. "This the Captain of the Heart Pirates; if you're asking me to surrender, you're wasting your time."

"Where is my Y/n, you scoundrel, and what have you done with her?!"

Law looked toward the advancing ship to watch for more projectiles.

"I have her locked up and a safe. Nothing will happen to her so long as you slow your chase and deliver 3 million beli-"

A sharp laugh cut off Law's demands. The boisterous sound made Law wonder if anyone in this damn noble family acted normal.

"Hey! This is not a joke! Stand down, or I will sever her head and toss the rest of her in the ocean!"

He waited for an answer, and it came in the form of more cannonballs.

"Captain!" Bepo screamed as he pointed, and Law growled as he cut them down.

"You think you can order me around! I'd rather see you at the bottom of the ocean than give you a single cent of my money! If I have to drag her lifeless body from your ship to bring her home, so be it!" The snail shouted at Law with a manic cackle.

The message was then cut off as the snail went back to sleep.

Seriously!

"What now, Captain?" Bepo asked worriedly.

I don't know! I can't keep holding the 'room' forever, and we can't close enough for me to dismember their men or damage their ships. Not when our own ship is in danger!

The ship suddenly swerved to the side, making Law and Bepo grip the railing. Their course was changing! But why?! Had Hakungan devised a plan, or was there another issue with the ship?

A cannonball nearly landed on the deck but missed as Law quickly used his ability. He couldn't leave to see what was happening, so he looked to the entrance where Penguin and Shachi held on to keep balance.

"Go check on Hakugan! Now!"

The two nodded and ran further into the ship. As their course changed, so did the Royal fleet. Once steady, Law looked to see where they were headed and saw a field of rocks and whirlpools. This part of the sea surrounding the island was Law's only information, and he had planned to avoid the area. And now they were sailing towards it.

The transponder snail had fallen onto the deck, and it rang again. Law snatched it up, and the voice didn't wait for Law to speak.

"So! You're going to challenge me! Very well! I'll have you know that I've sailed those waters many times and lost serval ships doing so!"

That's not something to brag about! Law thought as Bepo screamed at the sight. The whirlpools appeared and disappeared, moving the rocks with them. The field changed so randomly that it seemed impossible to navigate. Yet, according to that insane old man, it could be done.

"I should thank you for saving me the trouble of destroying you, but I'm sad to lose my youngest daughter. Apart from me, she is the only one who knows the trick to-"

Law wanted to hurl the snail away but shoved it into Bepo's paws instead. The man kept talking as Law stormed off to the control room. Somehow, she was behind this! There was no way in hell she was worth all this trouble! Not even 3 million beli.

Penguin and Shachi gave Law a guilty look when he entered the control room, and next to Hakugan was the woman guiding him. No, not just guiding him, but holding him hostage with a scalpel from Law's desk.

Hakugan may be a new member, but Law's blood boiled when he saw his life being threatened. As Captain, his life was Law's responsibility.

Before Y/N spoke, she saw Law do something with his hands. The next thing she knew, the hand holding the scalpel fell to the ground. She expected blood to come gushing out and cried out as she covered the stumped end of her arm.

The pain she also expected to feel never came, and she looked towards Law only to find him standing in front of her. His dark grey eyes now held gold flecks, and Y/n found it hard to breathe in his presence.

"What do you think you're doing?" Law asked as he towered over her. All the bravado she had minutes before was gone.

Y/N’s breath heaved as she tried to stay calm. The horrendous pain she was expecting to feel never came, and she supposed that it was due to her adrenaline blocking it to help her survive the situation. She stared back at Law and said in a strained voice on the edge of hysteria, “I’m trying to get us away from my father.”

“You’re trying to kill us all.” Law replied in a low tone.

Y/n shook her head and her skin began to pale.

“No, I’m not! I know this ocean. My father has shown me many times how to cross it!”

Law was ready to silence her for good when Hakugan shouted, "Captain! If she knows how to cross these waters, then for our sake, don't kill her yet! We're caught in the current, and I can't get us out!"

Hakugan's hands and arms shook as he struggled to steer the ship. Over the intercom, a female voice was heard as alarms went off.

"Who the hell is steering the ship! We'll be torn apart before I can make any progress fixing the repairs!"

"Captain! Orders! We're still being attacked from the rear!" Shachi shouted as he looked through the periscope. "That lunatic is still chasing us!"

Y/N swallowed as she willed herself not to faint just yet. She had lost a hand but not her life. She breathed and hardened herself as her father (the foolish old goat) had taught her.

"It's your call," she said to Law as he looked around. He whirled on her and stared into calm, steely eyes.

"I can get us through and away from him. He knows of one way, and I know of two."

Law heard Hakugan struggle as their new mechanic, Ikkaku, shouted over the head along with the alarms. Law sighed and made a decision he didn't like. Y/N watched as Law bent to pick something off the ground. He then grabbed her 'injured' arm and pulled it out in front of her.

Y/n was three seconds from passing out when she saw her hand reattach to her wrist. A monster. He's a monster. She thought as she swayed on her feet. Law then gripped her shoulders and shook her.

"Not now!" He said harshly as he held her and turned her around so she could see the sea. "Guide this ship out, and then I'll deal with you!"

He then eyed her jeweled earrings and was tempted to rip them from her pretty lobes. Instead, he unclipped her necklace and pocketed it. He may not get 3 million beli from her father, but he'll get what he can.

#trafalgar law one piece #trafalgar law #one piece x reader #trafalgar law x reader #one piece fanfiction #op fanfic #law one piece #trafalgar law fanfiction #trafalgar law x you #law x y/n #one piece law #law x reader #trafalgar law x y/n #law op #one piece

[minggukieology]

The time has come...

Hi, everyone it's been a while!

I've come to share some updates with you, which will be impacting the activity on this blog. Without making this unnecessarily more dramatic than it is in actuality, I would like to be transparent with all of you and admit what I have been trying to ignore for some time now: I no longer have the time nor energy to stay updated about BTS, stay active within the community and most importantly keep this blog running with regular updates.

Every time I receive a request or a message to comment on something I take it very seriously and ideally spend a few hours researching and compiling my answer. Unfortunately, in the past few months real life took over, I got an internship then a full time job and as a consequence the time in the day just flies by.

A whole another issue is how displeased I have been with the fandom overall, how triggering it has been to exist in spaces occupied by a lot of hateful trolls and misled teens. I have made it my personal goal this year to completely disconnect from Twitter, therefore each time I receive a question in regards to what someone said or what happened on that platform, it drags me back into the toxic environment I vowed to shut off. Moreover, most of the content I come across here is just a replica or a direct link to what someone posted on Twitter. I am simply not interested in consuming and engaging with any of that content, no matter how good or bad it is.

What does this all mean? The blog will stay up, regardless of if I ever find time to update it. I might come lurk around from time to time and reblog some nice edits. My askbox will stay closed and I will have to unfortunately also leave the remaining questions unanswered.

In no way this means I am excluding BTS out of my life. And similarly, as Jikook became my little safe space a long time ago, I would like to preserve and protect that connection without all the unnecessary noise and toxicity.

I would like to thank each and every one of you that has ever sent me a message, I hope I was able to deliver the answers you were seeking. Thanks to all of you who have interacted with my posts and given me words of encouragement. I appreciate all the good times we've had.

Hopefully, this isn't a goodbye just see you later.

더 행복하길 바라요☀️🌙

💜

#update

[centuryberry]

@peachshadows / @terrible-leviathan Here’s another chapter! This time, A-Dan meets her wannabe stepmother - I mean, Uncle.

The Celestial Palace was abuzz with the latest gossip about the Prince and the Little Princess. They’re all that everyone was talking about these days. And how could they not? The Royal heirs were a novelty. The Emperor and Empress had kept their births a secret from the entire Three Realms until recently.

The news shook the entire Court. Especially the Brotherhood, who had all been in the dark about the cubs the entire time. None of them knew. None of them even had a clue. Upon hearing about the news from DBK, Peng had hissed with outrage and Yellow Tusk had trumpeted his discontent.

Not one, but two little cubs. Not one, but two heirs that Wukong’s reign as Emperor is stable. Not one, but two anchors that kept the Six-Eared Macaque tied to the much-desired position as Empress and mate.

Not one, but two obstacles that stood in Azure Lion’s way to the Heavenly Throne and Sun Wukong’s side.

Azure had kept silent throughout it all. He knew better than to verbalize his disappointment. Macaque could hear all and he would be more than happy to take and twist Azure’s words in a way that would displease Wukong. He couldn’t risk any more setbacks that could render any chance of recovery unsalvageable.

Still, it stung Azure that his Emperor kept such important news from him - from the entire Brotherhood. No doubt, that scheming rat of an Empress poured poison into his ears and convinced him that this subterfuge was necessary.

But Azure did not let the news keep him dispirited for long. After all, obstacles could become footholds. Azure just needed to get to know the cubs enough to know what role they could play as he rearranged his plans.

An opportunity came to Azure by chance. He had been performing his duties and keeping order within the court. While passing the throne room, he heard youthful giggling coming from behind the doors.

Ah. The younger one came to visit, then. Perfect.

Azure entered without announcing himself, pasting on an expression of concern and wariness. He heard strange sounds that did not sound like the Emperor coming front the throne room, he would say if anyone (Macaque) tried to make accusations. “My king? Are you well? I heard…Oh?”

The concern may have been false, but the surprise certainly wasn’t. Princess Xiaodan was the spitting image of Liu’er Mihou. From her six, little ears to her black and sunset-themed hanfu, she was every inch his daughter. Azure half-expected the Little Princess to open her mouth and deliver a scathing rebuke for interrupting them unnecessarily like Macaque would’ve had.

But no, the princess remained silent and wide-eyed on her father’s lap, possibly stunned silent from Azure’s abrupt entrance.

“Azure! My friend!” The easy smile that leapt onto Wukong’s face never failed to warm Azure’s cheeks. But the Emperor’s attention quickly shifted away from him to the little one on his lap. His easy smile changed into something softer and adoring - very similar to the special smiles he’d give his mate. There was a familiar sting of bitterness that ran through Azure when he was yet again outshone by a six-eared monkey.

“Azure, I would like you to meet Sun Xiaodan. My daughter,” Wukong introduced her with pride as if the entire court and nearly all of the Three Realms didn’t already know her name.

Still, Azure put on a gentle smile he reserved mostly for little ones. “Princess. This subject greets you,” he said formally before getting on one knee for a proper bow, more for her father than for her as she was too young to understand the nuances of the court.

Xiaodan blinked at him. For a moment, Azure feared that she’d burst into tears. It happened more often than not for a being his size when he was around children. But then, she started to coo and chirp.

Despite visiting Flower Fruit Mountain many times in the past before Macaque’s ascension as its new ruler, Azure never saw the mountain’s baby monkeys so he didn’t recognize the sounds coming from the princess’s mouth. To his surprise, she reached out with both hands for him, making grabbing motions.

When his daughter shot him an imploring look, Wukong immediately got off the throne so he could carry her closer to Azure.

“Hi!” Xiaodan chirped sweetly as her tail wiggled with ill-hidden excitement. A smile was pulled from Azure’s mouth almost instinctively in response to such pure happiness.

“Hello, little one.”

Xiaodan slowly reached out. Her hands hovered over Azure’s mane. She tilted her head. “…Yes?”

It took a moment for the Celestial Beast to realize that the little princess was asking him for permission to touch him. A rumbling laugh came, unbidden, from his mouth before he could stop it. “My, how polite you are!” He praised her happily. “Yes, you may touch my mane.”

With a happy little squeak, Xiaodan buried her little hands into his mane. To Azure’s surprise, she didn’t grab and pull like he had expected. Instead, she was gentle as she stroked his head and carded her tiny fingers through his fur. She was grooming him, Azure realized.

Xiaodan let out an adorable little grumble when she couldn’t reach the rest of his mane and hopped right out of her father’s arms. Azure didn’t dare startle when she landed on his shoulders, fearful that she might slip and fall if he made one wrong move. She didn’t.

Wukong hovered near them the entire time, alert in a way that Azure understood but was aggrieved to see. Don’t you see that every part of you will always have my devotion? He cried out in his heart. This little one has your markings and your smile. How could I not protect her from all harm? How can you be so blind to all that I feel for you?

Xiaodan’s continued chirping and laughter eased Azure’s silent heartache.

“Soft!” Xiaodan marveled. She giggled when his ears twitched at her feather-light touches.

“Why thank you, Princess.”

“What are you doing with my daughter?”

All of the good mood in Azure’s chest disappeared at the voice of his esteemed Empress. Macaque strode into the throne room, not even bothering to hide his possessive anger and distrust towards Azure behind the usual forced veneer of civility. Behind him trailed the eldest, whose resemblance to both of his parents were less obvious than his younger sister. Still, the staff he carried marked him as Wukong’s son and heir.

“Empress,” Azure greeted curtly. Then, with less steel, “My Prince. I apologize for not being able to greet you properly, but I am afraid the little Princess would fall if I bow.”

The Prince held up his hands with an alarmed look on his face. “It’s all good, man! Don’t stress about it! A-Dan’s safety is super-important so good call. I’m not really a fan of the whole bowing thing anyways.” He scratched at the back of his neck awkwardly. “And…it’s just MK.”

“Prince MK,” Azure corrected himself with good humor. “I am -

“Azure Lion,” Macaque all but hissed, fur fluffed up with fury, “you didn’t answer my question.”

“Apologies, Empress,” Azure said without much remorse at all. “To answer your question, I was greeting Princess Xiaodan when she requested to play with my mane. As her Uncle and sworn subject, I thought it was fine to indulge her. It was not my intention to cause you any undue stress.”

“Lies.”

“Moonlight, that’s really what happened. A-Dan was the one who insisted on getting to know her Uncle better. I was there,” Wukong spoke up in his defense. It only served to enrage Macaque even further.

As if to rub the salt on the wound, A-Dan chose that very moment to nuzzle him. “Like. Mama, keep?”

Macaque looked as if he was smacked right across the face when little Xiaodan made her request. Azure soaked in the sight of his hurt and savored it.

But then, the firstborn spoke.

“No,” MK told his little sister firmly, eyes briefly flitting over to Azure. “No keeping, A-Dan.”

“But!”

“No buts.” MK seemed to be firm about this. Seeing that his son was supporting him, Macaque recovered and composed himself. A pity. “You know that you’re not allowed. We already talked about this.”

Ah. So Macaque had already trained up his eldest to act against Azure. Not unexpected, but it was still disappointing. From what little of MK he saw, Azure could tell that he was a good and kind cub like his little sister. A pity that he had a mother who tainted him and brought him down.

Xiaodan pouted. “A-Dan care. A-Dan feed. A-Dan brush. A-Dan play. Promise. Keep, Gege? Please?” Her eyes shone devastatingly. Azure was touched by how hard the little Princess was fighting to keep him at her side.

“A-Dan. A-Dan, no.” Instead of looking affected by the pleading, Prince MK looked almost…embarrassed? Regretful?

“Please?” Xiaodan begged, gripping onto Azure’s fur like a lifeline. “Pleeeeeeeease?”

“We can’t take him back home and keep him as a pet, A-Dan.” The Prince finally blurted out, completely shattering everyone’s perceptions about the whole situation. “He’s our Uncle, not a housecat!”

Azure froze in shock.

A…housecat…?

“Want Kitty!” Xiaodan insisted. “Like Mo!”

“No, not like Mo. Besides, Baba and Mama already said no pets until you’re bigger than them. Do you think you’ll get bigger than Uncle Lion anytime soon?” MK asked reasonably.

“…No.”

“Then it’s time to let him go.”

“Awwww. But A-Dan love.”

MK sighed. “You say that about every cat you see, A-Dan.”

This was the most surreal experience Azure had ever been in. He felt unbalanced as the siblings continued to talk about him as if he was some random stray picked off from the streets. It would’ve been humiliating if the Princess and the Prince weren’t so earnest in their own ways.

Macaque started to snicker behind his sleeves, relishing how their positions were now reversed, no doubt. Wukong wasn’t as subtle as his mate and burst into loud laughter. He patted Azure’s back almost consolingly in between guffaws.

“I’m really, really sorry about this,” MK apologized once again after Princess Xiaodan released him long enough for the Empress to spirit her away for a nap. He sent an unimpressed look at his still-laughing sire on the throne. “A-Dan didn’t mean to be rude. I’ll make sure to teach her not to do that again.”

Azure chuckled good-naturedly. “No need, Prince MK. The little Princess is still a very young cub. It’s normal for children to make mistakes from time to time. It’s what makes them so adorable. Still, I’m honored to receive so much of her favor.”

Yes. Misunderstanding or not, a favor was a favor and Azure would take anything that he was offered. Princess Xiaodan’s fondness might’ve been because he resembled a cat, but Azure could work with that. He could endear himself even more to her and become someone dependable, more irreplaceable.

Azure placed a hand on the Prince’s shoulder and smiled.

“As I said before to the Empress, I am your Uncle. If you are ever in need of help or advice, I am here, MK.”

#lmk #the sundown era #little dawn au #lmk season 4 spoilers #shadowpeach #azure lion

[mamthew]

Final Fantasy XVI's similarities to Tales of Arise have me on a Tales kick, which means I ended up playing Tales of the Tempest, widely considered the worst game intended to be a mainline Tales title. It took me about 15 hours and I did every sidequest I found, all of which involved walking across a field map at a frustratingly slow pace to pick up an item and then walking all the way back for a line of dialogue and a negligible amount of money. I easily could have shaved at least two hours off my playtime and I wouldn't have lost anything.

Tempest is a 2005 japan-only release for the DS developed by Dimps, the freelancers behind most handheld Sonic games and a good chunk of handheld licensed games, especially for DBZ and Digimon. When it dropped, it received so much hate from fans that Namco pretty quickly pulled it from the list of mainline Tales games, though they've recently quietly added it back to the list. They developed two more DS Tales games afterwards, in-house, and to fan approval, which makes Tempest even more interesting to me, as a first, failed attempt at a handheld Tales game.

It's definitely a bad game. Everything that involves a menu takes about three more button presses than necessary, the world takes a long time to travel for no good reason, the models are low poly and the textures are worse. The battle system is so unnecessarily limited that it's honestly barely worth engaging with. You only get four arte slots, and the protagonist's main gimmick is that he can turn into a werewolf when under half health, but transformation takes up an arte slot, so he functionally only has three. CPU-controlled characters also will only use moves assigned to their four arte slots. And there's no access to the artes menu in battle. Two of the five characters are werewolves, so only have three slots. Two more are mage/healer combos, so you have to divide their four slots between both offensive and healing spells. They balance this by making healing items unbelievably cheap and easy to obtain. Lemon and Pineapple Gels are 90 gald each. Miracle Gels are available in all stores for about 200 gald each. I ended the game with 80k gald.

The game has five party members, but only the protagonist, Caius, gets enough focus and story relevance that I'd consider him a character. Of the four main villains, two end up being his father and his brother. Another villain wears a mask and has the same hair color as the female lead, so I figured they'd be related in some way, but no, the female lead is so coincidental to the story that despite being on the box, she's the only character whose name I don't remember. Two of the party members, Tilkis and Forest, are the prince of a country you never see and his bodyguard. The last party member, Arria, is a priestess with the evil church who's sent to spy on the party, immediately gains their trust with no effort, and then immediately turns coat on the church when pushed. There's not much there.

That said, the lore has weirdly a lot of potential. About a century ago, humans committed genocides against the werewolf and ogre races, which carved out space for the human country to take over as the main superpower on the continent. Now, the human church is carrying out an inquisition against werewolves once again for unknown reasons, stoking fear against werewolves among the populace by spreading false rumors and executing any werewolves delivered to them without trial. This is pretty standard rpg stuff, but it's made interesting about halfway in, when it's revealed that the church is capturing werewolves to try to learn about a magic spell the werewolf country once had that was able to resurrect the dead. The goal of the inquisition is to gain and use this spell to resurrect all the victims of that genocide, thus making humans no longer culpable for the sins of their ancestors.

It's a fucking good hook, honestly. It reminds me of current debates around history education and white guilt. The church figures they can commit any violence they want in the present, as once they get that spell, the dead will come back anyway, so they won't have done anything wrong. The best parts of the game are when Caius tries to make his adversaries understand that making the dead no longer dead doesn't fix torture or generations of oppression. It doesn't rebuild the ruined werewolf city, return their lost poetry, or make their two countries relative equals on the global stage once more.

Unfortunately, they don't do a ton with this one really good idea. It's revealed near the end that the spell was a lie (it actually opens a portal to an evil dimension), the war between werewolves and humans was a lie (the werewolves opened a portal to an evil dimension and humans took credit for their fall for some reason), and the genocide against the ogres was inconsequential (ogres are not sentient and didn't have a country to begin with, they just stay north of the wall). It's like they understood that Tales games are known for their twists but didn't understand what a twist needs to do in order to change a story for the better. Just a strange game all around.

#Tales of series #tales of the tempest

[seawherethesunsets]

It was a slowburn for sure.

His friend!! Meanwhile it's fun to see his smiley face because of discovering the tension btw these two, I'm a lil bit sad about what he said after selling his car. Hope it won't get any deeper. I like their friendship, I need them to stay as one.

Yeah... there is a spark in his life. I'm slowly wondering what Dong Jin would look like when he is happy. I'm so used to see them serious or sad.

"don't like me" thing wasn't annoying! She regrets about her previous actions and is stressed about her new positive feelings building up for him. I like that these are the factors of her mixed actions! She puts a distance as well as does things in his favor. I can't find a proper way to explain it now but like... the confusion in the episodes were understandable for me. And yes it was also fun to watch Dong Jin reactions. Idk maybe I'm convinced well that this time it didn't annoy me seeing a main couple avoiding each other. Kdrama writers have a shitty timing preference for this type of situations.

the number of side characters/plots and episodes concern me. I don't want this drama to end up like Cheer Up. I genuinely hated to see all potentials getting wasted. I'm praying hard for a possibility that the writer(s) thought thoroughly about the direction of the scenario.

Coming to my experience with this week's episodes...

His ex's past and (seems like our permanent villain) old boss took a bit of space in this week's episodes meanwhile the main characters were busy with putting a distance.

Ex's past wasn't a waste of time, surprisingly. I liked and understood the reason perfectly since the drama did a great job showing how annoying and tiring Dong Jin's mom is for everyone. Dong Jin wanting to give more time for his gf for her sake and Minyoung misunderstanding this as reluctance on taking a step further... understandable.

Ending of ep7: her realization of her feelings. PERFECT. For her part, I loved the confusion and the long talk. Additionally, I loved Sung Joon's eyes in that scene. He delivered well and it was shot well. Those eyes were pretty! (Alexa, play 예뻤어)

Ending of ep8: his acceptance of his feelings. PERFECT. one "어" and lots of feelings on that face. I also liked his talk before this moment.

And it is cute that both characters lived that moment while they were alone with their close friends.

Ms. Baek!! She keeps getting my attention. I liked her small scene with Dong Jin. (Also remember how she got soft towards Woo Joo at one point?)

There are small plots winking at us. Woo Joo's sister takes some pills?.. Dongjin promised to go to camping (and we all saw that picture but unfortunately didn't see the SCENE yet)... Woo Joo's mom getting mentioned pretty often... Jun's confusing acting performances?.. (does he really act? which statements are he actually serious about?) There are some uninteresting ones, too. Like the old boss's revenge. I thought and hoped he would stop at one point but he's racing for the main villain role... Aaand I don't think we would have a fun time with Woo Joo's dead father's will? The less I see that woman, the better.

Hope there would be many good/fun things to mention next week!

frienddddddd the way you go off with all the detailssss i could neverrrr!!!!!

like you said, I too feel the main couple "avoiding" each other is very apt in this storyline. It's the way they wanna put distance but keep doing things against it like how woojoo sewed his button and told him she want to do it so dont stop her or lock the door aasdjkjfd. It doesn't feel frustrating or draggy yet (I just dont want it leaning that way soon >.<).

Yesss I really want to see more of the other characters mainly her sister and jun. There's a lot to explore so I hope they dont make the side characters get drowned unnecessarily. and i also picked that up about haesung supposedly taking pills???? 👀👀

everytime they show flashbacks I get more intrigued. I would think dongjin already talked to minyoung about his mom and how he's brought up. From the flashbacks, dongjin seemed to be quite emotionally stable despite his own baggage when he was with minyoung. It's understandable that minyoung would feel that him delaying to meet the parents as reluctance for the next step but the fact that she cheated for a year still doesnt sit right with me. Although, there might be possibilities that she fake cheated cos she didnt get married anyways and stayed in US alone.

OMG yes ms baek seems to be such a sweet person and she was also very accepting of woojoo when she joined because she can do her job. I like that she's always supportive and professional in a very subtle way.

i hope the mum rot in jail or somewhere and never bother anyone again like goshhhhhh. and his ex boss...in the next ep teaser he seems to be wanting to assault minyoung w a rock? like bruhhhhhhhh

im looking forward to the revival of best fairs after all they went through!

Have a great week ahead! cant wait for wednesdayyyy

#ask #call it love #❤️❤️❤️ #im so sorry if i always dont give enough insights hahahah im so baddd #but i appreciate all the points you made like yes yes yes!!

[carbonpressure]

Good Omens Season 3 predictions: Crowley and Aziraphale spend most of the season coming up with unnecessarily elaborate plans to find and rescue someone’s lost cat. The person who lost the cats at one point looks Crowley and Aziraphale in the eyes and says “I read a book called Good Omens once and it reminds me a lot of you two. It’s obvious that you two should be together. I’m an audience insert, you see, so by having me parrot the fans’ opinions I make it look like Neil is listening to them.” At one point, There Was Only One Bed trope is used and we think they’ll have to share, but nothing actually comes of it because Aziraphale doesn’t sleep anyway. For a brief moment he watches Crowley sleep and emits a fond/wistful sigh, in a scene that is short and especially artfully shot to ensure it will be giffed. Said gif is used as a promo before the season drop, to make us think Aziraphale might be about to get in bed with him, but of course when we watch the actual episode this never happens. At the end of the season, it’s revealed that Michael and Dagon have been dating for a week and are now madly in love. They have a passionate onscreen kiss and recite “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” to each other in its entirety. Satan appears and offers Crowley a promotion as long as he returns to Hell never to visit Earth again, and Crowley says “this literally goes against the core tenets of my character but of course I’ll do it because it’s a shocking twist and that’s the only thing filmmakers care about these days!”

Good Omens Season 15 predictions: We are rapidly running out of time periods in which Crowley and Aziraphale’s interactions aren’t accounted for. We think there’s a sex scene between them but it turns out to just be a dream. The demon Belphegor and angel Jegudiel meet for the first time, and get married the next day.

Good Omens season 108 predictions: Heaven and Hell are both completely empty because every single demon and angel have now paired off and go e to earth to live in domestic bliss, except of course for Crowley and Aziraphale, who must remain apart so that Neilman can secure season 109 and he and Amazon can keep making money off of baiting a ship that they never need or intend to deliver on.

#good omens prime #good omens s2 #good omens season 2 #good omens s3 #good omens season 3

[cornrowsandcornbread]

ok i just watched ant-man and the wasp: quantumania and i have… thoughts. this is very long. it’s also an unnecessarily deep critique of a movie about people with superpowers but i love marvel so here i go. SPOILERS BELOW

jonathan majors is an ACTOR! okay?! please don’t forget it. like that’s a black kang right there (pun intended lmao). i always love him in everything i see him in, and this is no exception. he is by far the best thing about this movie. the problem is that, for me at least, his performance is like the only thing that saves this movie.

i honestly liked the movie all the way until the end. the ending really just made no sense to me.

one, M.O.D.O.K. aka darren cross. he has literally ALWAYS been a villain. even before he got to the quantum realm, he was yellowjacket. he literally tried to kill cassie in her bedroom. then he gets sent to the quantum realm and kang gives him new life as a killing machine. a killing machine who works FOR KANG. so, let’s go over what we know: darren was “evil” before he got to the quantum realm, and with kang’s help, he essentially became even more “evil”. so please tell me why the hell cassie saying the simple words “stop being a dick” would make him evolve into a nice person? that did not make sense AT ALL. this is literally his second time trying to kill cassie, and a cute lil pep talk made him change his ways? like that was so stupid imo.

two, i feel like they nerfed kang. real bad. i haven’t read the comics (yet! i’m getting to it) but just based off of the little i know from the comics and what the movie itself told me, i know he is too powerful to be beaten by ant-man and the wasp. like i’m sorry but… that didn’t really make sense to me. when he first came down from the tower, he immediately started wiping people from existence with the blue energy coming from his hands. so we know that he is capable of killing lots of people at the same time. why would that not also apply to the ants? instead of doing what he did before, which is killing people with his energy, all he did was create a force field? and then M.O.D.O.K. comes and delivers the final dagger that blew it up. which again, does not make sense.

that brings me to the rebellion. i touched on it already, but the fact that the rebels won didn’t make sense to me. kang himself said, and i’m paraphrasing, “do you know many rebellions i have put down?” he easily put down the quantum people rebelling. but the ants is what did him in. you telling me he put down probably hundreds of rebellions, and the ants is what gets him? now i understand that the ants were able to prosper because of the damage the quantum people did to the citadel before they got there. but still. i just don’t believe that kang the conqueror gets taken down by ants.

and the ant-man and wasp vs kang fight at the end. i know that his powers were no longer working bc his suit got busted by the ants and M.O.D.O.K. but, and maybe i just don’t have the correct interpretation of kang’s power, it seemed like he should’ve been able to take hope. even with her having the guns and him being defenseless. but my critique isn’t even that hope beat and killed him during that fight, my critique is that it should’ve never gotten to that point bc realistically kang would’ve been put the rebellion down and never had his suit and powers broken.

we know what kang is capable of. we see it when janet touched his mind/ship, we saw it with the way he fought throughout the movie (kinda), we know bc of the countless worlds he’s destroyed. we even know bc how severely he thwarted the plans of his variants. “they’re afraid of me,” is what kang said. now ofc he could just be saying that in unfounded confidence, but they literally exiled him, and were happy when they found out he was dead. janet even said the quantum realm is the only place that can hold him. that to me let’s me know there is truth in what kang said.

all in all, i understand why kang was killed. its to set the scene for the other kang variants in the mcu’s future. i’m excited to see what they have planned for all of the kangs. and i just really like jonathan majors so im happy to see he’s the next big villain in the mcu. but idk, i just wish they handled the kang variant in this movie differently.

i would rate this movie a 6.5/10. i liked the quantum people, especially jentorra and quaz. i thought the baskin n robbins probability was funny. and i’ll always love seeing scott get big. i liked seeing cassie get big too. and i really liked seeing loki and mobius!! honestly i’m always gonna be bias to marvel, even when they put out objectively mediocre movies lmao. but yeah. those are my thoughts. if you made it to the end you a real one. and if you feel like it tell me your thoughts too!! alright bye

#ant man and the wasp quantumania #ant man and the wasp quantumania spoilers #ant man #the wasp #marvel #mcu #scott lang #hope van dyne #janet van dyne #hank pym #cassie lang #kang the conqueror

[mauveperiwinkle]

DRUNKEN VOWS

Pairing: Yeonjun X Fem reader

Genre: Fluff, reckless decision, Vegas night out

Note & Disclaimer: This does not represent the artist in any way. This is a work of fiction, purely from my imagination. If there are typos of some sort, I apologise. Hope you guys enjoy it.

••• ••• ••• •••

You stirred from your bed as the sun hit your skin, indicating that it was late in the morning. You groaned as an overwhelming sting hit your head, wondering how hard you partied last night for this to happen. You shift in your bed, attempting to get up when a pair of strong arms pulled you close. Your body was now facing the perpetrator.

You were met with a heap of pink clouds of hair. He moved to pull you closer, caging you into his strong arms as he rest his pouty lips on your forehead. You were left frozen and overwhelmed by the whole situation. You quickly checked your body just in case something happened last night. Relief washed over you when you felt your top and your jeans still intact. And you didn't feel unnecessarily loose down there.

You pushed him away, in attempts to escape from his arms, but to no avail. So you did what you think was the only way, to communicate.

"Uhmm... Can you please let me go? Who are you and why are you in my hotel room?"

His eyes fluttered open as he gazed down at you, still holding you close. "Well, that's upsetting. Let's stay here for a few minutes until you remember." He said then fluttered his eyes close again.

You tried to rack your brain for some kind of recollection of what happened. You remembered arriving in Vegas, getting ready for a girls' night out with your friends here... You tried hard to recollect what took place at the party but your mind slipped as you felt how natural and comfortable your position was with this stranger.

Strangely, the position did not make you feel uncomfortable or in any way alarmed. You looked at his face in hopes to recall something. He looked beautiful with his long lashes, shaped brows, and flawless skin. He might have felt your eyes on him as he opened his eyes, meeting your gaze. He smiled warmly at you, tucking a strand of hair out of your face. And like a switch, you remembered him. Yeonjun.

"Yeonjun..." You said in recognition. You remembered how he saved you from a group of men who were up to no good. You also remembered how both of you decided to get out of the party and move to a nearby local bar. You were sure there was a detail that you forgot about but you were distracted as his smile grew wider.

"Yes, Y/N." He said as he got up, letting go of you. The lack of warmth made you stand up immediately. A knock on the door made you look at each other in confusion.

"Room service." Called out the person outside the door.

"Did you call for room service?" You asked Yeonjun who was equally confused. He shook his head no as a response. Nonetheless, you opened the door.

"We didn't call for room service Sir, you must be mistaken." You explained.

"No ma'am. The local judge's office delivered this mail this morning. We were told that you left this after your wedding, so the whole staff wanted to say their congratulations through this cake." He explained then quickly exited the room before you could react.

You looked at Yeonjun, then the envelope, then to Yeonjun again. Yeonjun got up and opened the envelope for you, knowing you didn't have the guts to do so.

"Marriage Certificate... Yeonjun Choi... Y/N..." His voice trailed off.

You were left speechless as you looked at Yeonjun, dumbfounded and extremely overwhelmed. You didn't know what to say as you plopped down on the couch, your knees giving out.

What have I done? You thought to yourself. The room remained silent as the both of you tried to let everything sink in. Among the silent chaos, your stomach growled, making Yeonjun look at you with a grin.

"Should we have brunch first and figure this out later? I bet you're hungry... I am too." He said as he stood up. You just nodded as a response and so you both got ready for brunch in complete silence.

You were sighing throughout brunch which made Yeonjun set his cutlery down with a thud.

"Can you stop sighing?" He said, annoyed. "I know you're devastated by the situation but can please eat in peace first? It's not the end of the world you know. We can just divorce." He said as a matter of fact. You just nodded in response again and continued eating.

After your brunch, you both walked out to get some fresh air and to talk. "I'm sorry for snapping at you earlier." He said after you settled down on one of the benches in the garden.

"I'm sorry too, I just didn't know what to say or feel. Everything is just so overwhelming." You apologized.

"So... Should we go and divorce?" He said with a smile on his face.

"I guess we should probably do that." You replied, smiling back.

You both went ahead and filed for divorce and it turns out that drunken nuptials were common in Vegas which made it a lot easier and faster for the both of you.

After everything was settled, you both found yourselves silently walking back to your hotel. The silence was comfortable, it was as if you have known each other for years. You both came to a halt in front of the hotel entrance.

"So... I guess this is it..."

He faced you and shook his head. "This doesn't have to be the end. Let's do this the right way, shall we? " He said.

He extended his arms towards you saying, "Hi, I'm Yeonjun. Nice to meet you."

You smiled brightly as you shook his arms. "Nice to meet you too, I'm Y/N."

"I know..." He said and you both laughed at how stupid you both sounded.

#tomorrow by together #txt yeonjun #choi yeonjun #txt fanfic #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop fanfic #txt yeonjun x reader

[dsdatingdramas]

In my nice boy era

Do you never meet a man and think wow he is going to be an incredible partner to someone, not be but someone. These are the kind of men I’d typically avoid at all costs, but I’ve decided to be nice to the nice guy.

Like any great night out, the line to get into town is seething with excitement, drama and gossip. “Hi, I’m Mr Nice Guy” mhmm a firm handshake in town, classic. A flirtatious smile and classic in line town chat. A fight breaks out just in front of us and Mr Nice Guy puts both hands on my waist and gently manoeuvres me to be behind him, I’m more distracted by the feeling on his hands on my body than the fight in front of me. I wasn’t even aware I thought this man way cute until this moment.

Once we got inside I asked my friend who initiated the chat who he was. After a quick gossip in the bathroom my eyes followed him around the club for various parts of the evening. He didn’t seem to take any notice of me.

The following day I got up early to drive home for my sisters birthday, I spent most of my two and a half hour drive wondering if I could find him on instagram. After all the festivities were done I can’t help but smile at my latest follow request, Mr Nice Guy.

I bravely slip into his dms “you stole my move, I was going to follow you”…. We chat what feels rather effortlessly, eventually agreeing to meet next time I’m in his part of the country.

“I’ll pick you up at 12.30 for lunch” my stomach does flips. After much debate about what to wear and if because we have technically meet before my “I don’t wear make up on a first date” rule applies, I was ready an hour early. I wait anxiously on the couch scrolling through social media. I was impressed by his punctuality, 12.30 on the dot. I like this man already.

The laughter came effortlessly, and we were talking absolute shit before we even got to lunch. At lunch he opened the door for me and even whipped out a “ladies first”. I was promptly told off (jokingly but actually) for both attempting to pay and not ordering a proper meal “who cares if you don’t eat it all”. As per usual my order despite being from the cabinet did not arrive. After realising I was not going to interact with any human unnecessarily, he informed me “I’m going to get your food”. He interacted kindly with the wait staff and ensured my food was delivered to the table.

After joking about if the two people seated next to us were father and daughter or dating, he requested a to go bag for my left over lunch and Mr Nice Guy once again opened the door and insisted I lead the way.

“Did you bring your togs?” Darling it’s the middle of winter and it’s cold why would I have brought my togs “no, why’s that?”. After our chat he was going to suggest we head to the hot pools that I have had no luck convincing my friends to spend money on! Don’t worry though, Mr Nice Guy, had a back up plan!

We arrived at bowling with every other man and his dog, we went inside assuming we would be out of luck. Just my luck, they had one lane available. Mr Nice Guy declined my request to pay for this one. After noticing that he was left handed in this right handed world I was looking forward to my win. After two gutter balls Mr Nice Guy reported that I was almost there. I hid my frustration for my particular shit first few bowls we broke the contact barrier, with every touch on my waist, arm or the small of the back I melted. After coming back for a double strike to end our game I took the crown. Naturally I was very chuffed with myself. Mr Nice Guy however asked if I had to be anywhere this afternoon, when I said I was free, we zipped over to mini golf. He had to win something.

I smashed him at mini golf, two holes in one and two strokes under par. The chat continued to be light and full of laughter! We both seemed to enjoy our new found comfort and light contact.

He finally dropped me home, we departed with a firm snuggly hug and a single kiss.

Not long afterward I messaged thanking him for a good time and we have arranged a time where he is in my part of the country to reconnect. Moral of the story, dating the nice guy was a success. I’ll keep ya updated.

[parcai]

have made it no secret that i totally adored little mermaid 2023 + even thought some aspects were better than the og but i gotta say the very VERY last scene of 1998 SWEEPS its not even a competition

don't think 2023 needed them 2 get married or even b on the huge 1998 boat or whatever (triton pushing them away was good too) + i enjoy the idea of them traveling together. but like. dawg. the lackluster effects r insane 4 such a large budget + even the simple things:

no rainbow from triton do u understand how magical that was in the og

NO SMILES? eric + triton were smiling sooo much in 1998 its so sweet

the way eric backs away 2 give ariel + triton their moment + then bows 2 triton in 1998 is so heartwarming

the fact that ariel walks out of the water to part of ur world reprise in 1998 which is more poetic

it's so fucking long w the wedding + all these side convos etc etc unnecessarily long really, destroys the momentum from all the prev scenes

MOST IMPORTANTLY. this might b a small detail to some but idk 2 me it made all the difference. in 1998, ariel's shiny eyes + the way she whispers i luv u daddy bro I BAWL. 2023?!??? "i love you father" 0 eye shiny no smiles yet again line is mumbled what is THAT DUDE????? idc idc ppl sexualize the term daddy 4 no goddamn reason so mayb they didn't want her 2 say that anymore but they could've at least said dad idk 😭😭 FATHER??? fuck is this 1800s england im so sick smth abt the og 1998 is so innocent + sweet literally has everyone sobbing i don't CARE it should've been delivered the same + w all the prev points above, this ending did NOT make me cry ☹️ very disappointing esp considering how good the rest of the scenes leading up 2 the end were

#sigh. #the little mermaid #disney #k #halle bailey

[e3ammm]

Batman: The Enemy Within

- Bruce Wayne x John Doe

The time had eventually come when John felt that he disappointed his Bruce. Since their last night duty, Bruce didn't answer his calls and messages, nor did he contact first. Yes, John had already been concious that it was mostly himself who makes a phone call first in this deep, friendly relationship, but sometimes he, too, was lucky enough to be a receiver. THIS, however, was too much. Three days had passed without any conversation. Facing downward on his bed, John revolved what he had done that day.

Think again, John murmured to himself. Bruce's face-- what was it like? Did he seem angry at me? Did I have to spare that last batarang for later? Was I unnecessarily violent when I drove that little rat into a corner? But Bruce has to know I really did my best to hold back my urge to swing the pipe near me!

It was so awful he missed checking Bruce's facial expression at that moment as he was excited that it was the big day--the big night, in fact--; it was their 10th mission working together. John was proud of himself about not letting Bruce down even once. Bruce used to call him 'John' in heartful tone when the duty was over and didn't forget to encourage his 'tender approach to criminals', convincing John that there would be another chance to drive Gotham's streets at night together again.

John stood up in a sudden movement. He could sense a sign of betrayal of his sincere efforts. But before taking actual action preparing for the loss of dearest buddy, he needed to confront their problem first even though that would be a heartbreaking process; make a final call first up; if Bruce didn't answer again, leave a final voice mail; then, buy some fireworks and deliver a final letter forcing Bruce to come to one of places where good old memories had been built up. The first place that hit John's mind was the church where he took their picture and was introduced to Bruce's important person. There, he felt he was respected as another Bruce's close friend. And then there was the alley, of course, where Bruce taught him how to throw the batarang. A place where Bruce did not disguise and lie to him, but show him great honesty. There was the third option--So many memories we've built together!-- and it was--

John's phone rang. He knew it was from Bruce, no one else, for that was the special alarm sound he had configured just for him. Every terrible situation he assumed was blown away as soon as he heard that voice he was longing for.

"John," said Bruce in an apologetic tone. "I'm sorry I missed your calls. There were some urgent issues...." There was a pause as if he was thinking whether the next word would irritate John. "...Waller asked me for help."

"Surely I understand. That's what friends are for." John was startled at himself that he could answer without trembling, and continued. "I can't deny I was a bit nervous, well, afraid while I'm waiting for you, Bruce," I should have stopped. "but the important thing is you didn't forget me. See? Now I'm content."

John could hear a small laugh from the phone.

"There's one other thing I missed. Believe me, John. I'm aware of it. Don't prepare dinner yet. I have some nice plans for you."

That final sentence immediately lighted up John's mind, filling it with great, awesome expectations for their special anniversary. Every unpleasant thought tried to corrupt him existed no more. John even could make a joke that he promises he will dress up like Bruce Wayne. Bruce laughed, and John couldn't be happier than now.

#batjokes #enemy within #bruce x john #bruce wayne #john doe #my fic