#prelude to pursuit | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

loaksky · 11 months

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— 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒊 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 | 𝒆. 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒎𝒔

collegebff!ellie x fem!reader based on this ask ! fluff / angst / suggestive content / bff2l , wc: 7.1k (sum1 sedate me)

synopsis: since the beginning of college, it’s always been you and ellie. you like to think you’ve got her figured out, but there’s one thing you can’t get a read on and it’s the matters of her heart.

content warnings: language, suggestive content, kissing, ellie’s clueless and reader’s shy. (seemingly) one-sided pining, jazz cabb. this is literally self-indulgent mush.

fic soundtrack: like i want you — giveon / can i — kehlani / electric — alina baraz & khalid / sdp interlude — travis scott / options — doja cat & JID

main masterlist | tlou masterlist

YOU MEET ELLIE BY CHANCE during the first week of freshman year.

It’s a story you recall often in the wee hours of the night, giggling and side-by-side in her full size. The room usually reeks of weed, blanketed by stale incense and Ellie’s favorite cologne.

She’d been skating across the campus quad on her splintered deck in hot pursuit of her mis-located class when she chanced a peek at her cracked phone screen for the time. You’d been equally engrossed, coffee and unread text message from your new roomie occupying far too much attention to realize that Ellie’d been heading straight for you.

Next thing you knew, you were wearing your coffee and Ellie had scraped an elbow and a knee.

“Fuuuuuck,” Ellie moaned, cradling her elbow while inspecting the asphalt burn on her kneecap.

Your quiet sigh of disappointment caught her attention and her eyes were widening when she noticed the growing splotch of milky brown splattering your fitted white top.

“Dude, fuck, I’m so sorry,” Ellie spluttered, scrambling to collect your empty cup and your phone.

She’d inspected the screen to assess the damage, let out a sigh of relief to find it in pristine condition.

“S’okay,” you huffed out a breathy laugh, taking the phone from her as she stretched to grab for her discarded deck. “Accidents happen.”

“Your—” Ellie’s cheeks warmed when she’d noticed the full outline of your bra underneath your top. “Your shirt.”

Your lips parted once, twice, before your arms crossed over your chest in embarrassment. She wasn’t even able to offer you another apology, or anything else for that matter, before you staggered off sheepishly.

She’d redeemed herself, obviously, if your friendship now was anything to go by.

The following week, she’d dipped out of her preluding class a few minutes early to file in line at the student-run coffee shop. She’d taken a snapshot of your coffee cup before throwing it in the bin the week prior, and next thing she knew, she was sitting on the steps of the building you’d emerged from the day of the debacle and hoped for the best.

When she heard the telltale sign of students emerging from the double doors at half past noon, she sprung to her feet so fast, she nearly toppled over.

And there you were, coming out of the math building in a pretty skirt that had Ellie wetting her lips.

“Uh, hey,” she called hesitantly when you blew right by her.

You threw a split-second glance over your shoulder once, then came full stop after the second.

Ellie traveled down the rest of the steps to join you, one hand stuffed in the pocket of her cargo shorts, other practically strangling the poor coffee cup.

“Oh.” You sounded surprised, eyebrows twitching up momentarily. “Hey.”

“This is, uh, for you,” she’d said, offering the drink to you.

“For me?”

“Yeah,” she affirmed. “Y’know, ‘cuz last week and…”

You took the coffee, eyes glancing over the modifications scribbled on the side of the cup.

“How’d you know my order?” Your smile had been enough to make Ellie blow out a shaky breath.

“You left your cup.”

“Right,” you replied shyly. “Thanks, really. You didn’t have to do this.”

“Nah,” Ellie assured you. “I…I—”

And she’d been so fucking speechless because you were staring at her with round eyes through thick lashes. Had her spluttering like an idiot and wringing her unoccupied hands.

The rest—

“Well the rest is history,” Ellie mocks, reciting the end of that stupid story as she takes a deep pull from the skinny joint and watches you through the mirror as you get ready.

You let out a little laugh as you roll a clump of mascara from your corner lashes, the memory fresh in your brain like it’d happened days ago.

In reality, the two of you have been glued for nearly three years. It’s a thought that makes you ruminate a little too much for your liking. Makes you wonder if she’d felt the sparks like you did.

Sometimes you’re convinced that she had. That theses lines you've danced your entire friendship are just ticking moments waiting to detonate. There can’t be any other explanation.

Not when she’d started showing up outside of the math building every Tuesday and Thursday that semester and walked you to your next class. When it’d escalated to exchanging socials medias, then eventually phone numbers, and making plans to eat lunch during a mutual free period. Or hanging out off campus, orbiting each other at gatherings when you find that you've made some mutual friends.

And not now when she shows up every Wednesday evening no later than five past eight with takeout from your favorite spot right outside of campus. Not when she waits for you to finish tutoring outside of the library with your regular coffee in tow (surprise; you haven't changed your order since freshman year). Especially not when she drops what she’s doing, who she’s doing, every time you call.

Course it’s not like she can’t say the same. You’re her biggest supporter, her number one girl no matter what ways the others in your friend group and distant peers try to twist it. You’re there at every one of her research presentations for her astronomy major. Despite not having an athletic bone in your body, you’re at the skatepark with her on the weekends, cheering her on from the stone picnic tables. And when the sun goes down and she’s caked with sweat and dirt, you’re positioned between her knees as she sits on the hood of her car, hissing when you dab a little too much ointment on the cut across her cheek.

To the naked eye, you and Ellie are a lot more like lovers than friends, and the idea is one that makes your gut flutter, makes your toes tingle and your cheeks warm.

But those feelings are tamped down when, like clockwork, Ellie laughs like it’s the funniest thing she’s heard. The picturesque fantasy you’ve built of being with Ellie as more than a friend is smeared. Because even if she doesn’t deny it, doesn’t correct whoever’s made the observation, she’s not confirming it either.

And, Jesus, you don’t want to read too much into it when things are so good between the two of you, but you can’t fucking help yourself when it comes to her. Can’t help but want her when she does what she does, when she looks the way she does.

Your eyes flicker up when the springs in your mattress creak and Ellie’s climbing off your bed to lean against the edge of the desk.

She doesn’t say anything, just swipes the edge of your bottom lip absently, a mixture of your sticky lipgloss and saliva coming off on the pad of her thumb.

“Too much,” is all she says, kicking off the desk to shrug her hoodie on over her black tank top. She’s halfway out your bedroom when she turns to glance at you over her shoulder. “You coming or what? We’re gonna be late, dingus.”

“Yeah...yeah, coming.”

Party’s in full swing when you squeeze in. The bass shakes the grass as you cross the front lawn and the LEDs glow through the closed curtains. For the most part, the festivities are contained, a few bodies on the porch smoking a mixture of cigarettes and greens, but as soon as you and Ellie are sliding through the door, it’s like the vibes start melting and Ellie’s getting into the zone.

She’s in her element like this, couple of prerolls in her pocket for when she’ll find a quiet place out on a balcony or squeeze onto the roof from somebody’s unlocked bedroom and smoke with some friends who’ll either bum a couple passes or pay in full.

“You wanna drink?” Ellie asks you when you guys find a good spot in the living room.

“Sure,” you agree easily. “Seltzer if they have it.”

She nods.

“Gotcha, I’ll be back.”

She’s disappearing into the crowd and you take the opportunity to assess your surroundings. It’s relatively laidback, couple of familiar faces from different lectures and seminars soothing the tiny niggling of anxiety that blooms behind your navel. The living room is shrouded in mood lighting and the vibrations from the speakers rattle the walls.

“Wait, was that Williams?”

Your ears perk when you hear it, eyes flitting to a group of girls that stand in a clump near the stereo.

“Yeah, she’s headed towards the kitchen,” one of the girls says, tall and willowy.

“Think I should?” the girl towards the middle asks.

She’s too pretty for her own good, has glittery shimmer on her eyelids, pearlescent lipgloss and low rise jeans that hug her ass like they were hand-crafted for her.

Something green starts to swell.

“What?” another asks, and you recognize her from discrete calculus.

“Should I talk to her?” Glittery Eyeshadow says.

“Why not?” Your calculus classmate shrugs. “Her little shadow’s not around.”

Okay, wow. Ouch.

You angle your body away, turn your head to hide the burn of your cheeks and to tune in a little better.

“You sure that’s not her girl?” the tall one asks. “They kinda seem like they’re together.”

“Doubt it,” your classmate chuffs like she knows something they don’t. From the corner of your eye, you see them lean in close to each other. “Ellie’s been with a coupla girls on campus. Heard she gives phenomenal head.”

That makes you swallow so hard, your eyes begin to burn.

Ellie usually kept her love life hush, didn’t really mention the likes of anyone else around you, and you’d always been too shy, too enamored to ask. Perhaps too afraid of what the confirmation of her escapades would do to you.

This was Exhibit A.

“Let’s add to that list,” Glittery Eyeshadow says, and your heart absolutely sinks to your ass when you see her walk confidently across the living room and into the kitchen.

You see them from the cutout, and your breath hitches when a switch flips and Glittery Eyeshadow’s tapping Ellie’s shoulder gently, tucking her hands behind her back when she turns on her heel.

Ellie’s widened eyes go soft, a small smile easing its way onto her lips as the girl says something that has your best friend laughing behind a sip of the drink she cracks open. You see the seltzer, the one you’d requested being cracked open and offered to the girl.

“What a lucky fuckin’ bitch,” your calc classmate giggles. “Ellie’s sooo hot.”

“How much do you wanna put on it that it’s not gonna happen?” Tall Girl huffs a laugh.

“No way,” her counterpart scoffs. “Liv’s got infinite ways into anyone’s pants.”

You put a name to the face, find that it’s fitting and feel the envy begin to roil full force.

Tall Girl hums thoughtfully.

“I dunno, Ellie and that one girl are virtually inseparable. Even if they’re not together, there’s something there for sure.”

You peek long enough to see your classmate roll her eyes, but when your gaze swings back to the kitchen, Ellie and Liv are nowhere to be found.

Panic begins to cloud your system, absence of any alcohol or weed making you far too aware of how fucking awful all of this makes you feel.

You decide to stick around for a moment, back nearly plastered to the wall, but after a moment too long passes and you don’t see any sight of Ellie or Liv in the kitchen or through the sliding glass doors that lead to the back porch, you’re peeling away.

The chitters from Liv’s friends die out when they realize you’d only been a few meters away.

The house had seemed like the perfect size when the two of you were walking up, but now, as you weave through every room and poke your head into empty bedrooms, it seems so much larger than you’d expected.

Your last resort is down a set of stairs nestled near the back of the house. There’s more music that bumps from the basement and you figure it’s why it seemed that the grass was rumbling outside.

The basement is finished, paneled and reeks of weed. There’s far less people down here from what you can observe from the railing, but you clock Ellie and Liv before you make your full descent. They’re cozy on a loveseat, one of Liv’s legs is propped over Ellie’s knee while her manicured fingers fumble with some rolling paper.

You hear her over the thrum of the bass.

“You’re so much better at this than I am,” she moans. “Show me how?”

You’re still watching them over the railing, partially hidden by the drywall. And you’re glad, because you nearly retch when you see the way Ellie’s ringed fingers close over Liv’s and they roll the joint together. Ellie’s head is in her space to get a closer look, and it doesn’t take a genius to know that Liv’s pupils are probably blown wide from the proximity.

And fuck, the way the flat of Ellie’s tongue rolls over the edge absolutely seals the last nail just as she does the joint and you’re turning to shakily climb the steps again.

Maybe the two of you were better off as friends. Maybe you were reading way too much into things, into what the two of you could be.

Tonight only solidifies that.

Ellie is stupid, stupid, stupid.

She’d been halfway through the blunt she was sharing with the girl who’d cornered her in the kitchen when she remembers. Remembers that she’d left you upstairs. Only does so because Liv’s taking a swig of the seltzer that was meant to be yours and she’s pushing her leg from her knee and shooting up from the chair.

“Shit,” she breathes. “My bad, I gotta dip.”

Liv’s arched eyebrows raise.

“Huh?”

“I left my girl upstairs.”

And Liv’s eyes narrow.

“Your girl?” she asks, smoke wafting around her pinched expression.

“Yeah, my friend?” she says like you should be common information.

“The girl that follows you around like she’s leashed?” Liv laughs humorlessly.

Ellie’s confused. Like majorly confused right now. Liv had asked her to smoke, had been nice enough when they were chatting in the kitchen, but something’s flipped and it makes annoyance simmer in the pit of her belly.

“The fuck did you just say?” Ellie says stonily.

Liv blinks.

“Dude, fuck you,” she bites, snatching the blunt from Liv’s fingertips. “You owe me forty for the wrapper and the roll. Venmo me by the end of fuckin’ night.”

Liv and a couple half-sober bystanders look stunned at Ellie’s outburst as she rushes from the basement and takes the stairs two at a time.

The first place she looks is where she’d left you, but you’re nowhere to be found. She nearly combs the house top to bottom searching for you, green eyes frantic as she flashes her lockscreen to shitfaced party-goers.

“You seen her?” she asks quickly.

The guy looks at the brightass screen, bleary-eyed.

“Her?” He points to the screen. “Left like fifteen minutes ago…I think. I dunno.”

And that makes it all the worse considering Ellie was your ride.

She’s dodging bodies, moving through the smoky foyer to get to the front door while she shoots you a text.

me: where’d u go bug???

Ellie’s slipping out of the house, taking survey of the front porch and the lawn, gut twisting when she doesn’t see the familiar silhouette of your neck or shoulders among the other bodies.

me: r u still here?

Ellie passes the hedges and jogs down the sidewalk as she presses the phone icon next to your contact and holds the phone between her shoulder and her ear.

She’s so engrossed in getting in contact with you that she barely notices you sitting on the curb a few feet from where she’d parked on the street.

“Jesus,” Ellie sighs in relief, hanging up as soon as the operator tells her to leave a message after the tone. “Been looking everywhere for you.”

You look up at her, blinking quickly like she’d caught you in a daze.

“Huh?”

Ellie’s brows furrow as she lowers herself to sit next to you.

“What d’you mean huh? You scared the shit outta me,” Ellie laughs breathlessly. “Thought you disappeared.”

“Sorry,” you whisper. “Just needed…”

Ellie watches you expectantly.

“Needed a breather,” you admit. “Got a little overwhelmed.”

Her expression falls, eyebrows drawing in concern as she tucks some of your hair from your face. The corners of her lips twitch when a mixture of the pale moonlight and the yellowing streetlights cast a glow over your features. Your lashes are wet and she finds your cheeks warm when her thumb brushes over the skin.

“Did something happen?” she asks suddenly. “Because I swear to god—”

You shrug away from her and stand, unable to stomach the gooey gaze she gives you or the gentle brushes against your skin. It makes you fall back into old habits, into trying to read between the lines.

“I’m gonna call an Uber home,” you tell her. “We just got here and I know the party’s barely started—”

“Nah, no, fuck this party,” Ellie says, standing up to invade your space again. “We can go home, it’s okay, bug.”

And the way she calls it home, like the two of you share, makes that thread tied to domesticity tug entire too hard for you to stand still.

(Perhaps Ellie’s too chicken to admit that home isn’t necessarily just under a roof, but wrapped in the warmth of your arms).

“Ellie—”

“Are you mad at me?” she asks hesitantly, and the look on her face is devastating.

Because no, you could never be mad at Ellie, not when she’s sweet despite being rough around the edges. You can only be mad at the circumstances, at yourself for letting your delusional heart get the best of you.

“No,” you say quickly. “God, no. I’m just not…feeling it tonight, I guess.”

You want to hate Ellie for looking wounded, but instead it makes your heart grow more around the shape of her.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” she almost whines, arms wrapping around your shoulders to pull you into her chest. “We coulda just stayed home and ordered pizza. Watch that stupid documentary you like.”

“S’not stupid,” you say weakly.

“C’mon, let’s go.”

“But—”

“No butts except for yours in the front seat,” Ellie says, opening the passenger side door open for you. When you drop in the seat, she’s plopping her unlocked phone in your lap. “Order pizza. And none of that pineapple bullshit on my side or I die.”

You like to think that you could put the party behind you. That maybe you were being a little overdramatic. But after you’ve settled into your favorite spot on Ellie’s couch, wearing a pair of her sweatpants and an oversized shirt, the final crack shakes the front you’ve been maintaining for the past three years.

Ellie’s dozed off, only half a crust left from her half of the pizza sitting in the open box on top of the coffee table. Your documentary’s playing in the background, lulling your droopy eyes to close, but the faint buzzing of Ellie’s cell has you shifting awake.

You don’t mean to, but your ego’s been bruised and curiosity gets the better of you as you’re leaning forward to capture her phone from where it’s nestled between the remote, underneath the takeout box.

An unknown number flashes across the screen, a succession of texts sending the device fluttering in your sweaty palms.

It feels like the ultimate breach of privacy, like you’re using the fact that Ellie trusts you with her phone password in the worst way possible, and perhaps you are.

(307) 578 9432: got your number from your friend cat.

(307) 578 9432 sent $40

(307) 578 9432: here’s a tip <3

(307) 578 9432 sent a photo.

You don’t know what you expect, but a photograph of a girl’s tits definitely isn’t high on the list. A lump forms in your throat, choking the air from your lungs as the tears begin to prick the corner of your eyes.

You know that gemstone choker, seen the way it gleamed under the lowlight of the party when Liv had taken a deep breath before sauntering over to Ellie. It’s the same one in the racy photo, and it’s the last straw.

Ellie’s phone vibrates again.

(307) 578 9432: don’t let your lil pup see ! xx

And that sends you spiraling. Has you closing out of the text thread, sliding Ellie’s phone back in place, and shooting up from couch.

The sudden movement makes Ellie stir, but she never fully rouses from her sleep, and for once, you thank the universe for being on your side.

You’re collecting your things from where you’d discarded them on your way in, and it feels a lot like things are officially crumbling. And you don’t know why. Should’ve seen it coming, really.

She’d never see you that way. She’s leagues above you, charismatic and cool in a way that has everyone wanting a slice of what it’d be like to be friends with Ellie Williams. Doesn’t help that she’s so painfully attractive, energy magnetic. She’s so kind, too fucking smart for her own good, and a really really good friend.

You realize as you slip from her apartment and make the trek home, that maybe that’s all you and her were ever destined to be.

So you mark tonight in your books.

Tonight’s the night you’re gonna start falling out of love with Ellie Williams.

Ellie wakes up to the soft pings of her alarm and she’s rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she pats the area next to her in search of your sleeping form.

She comes up empty and she squints past the filtering sunlight to find that her apartment is completely still. The television’s been turned off, pizza boxes stacked neatly on the eat-in.

She calls your name, once, twice. But she’s met with absolute silence.

“What the fuck?” she mutters under her breath as she stands from the couch and stretches the sleep from her bones.

A quick glance at the digital clock underneath the TV shows that her 10am seminar starts in about half an hour.

Ellie decides, as she takes a quick shower and brushes her teeth, that she’ll call you on the way to class.

But as she skates across the campus, pushing so hard against the asphalt, her knees hurt, you don’t answer her calls. She’d being sent straight to voicemail and straight to confused frustration.

She’s one of the only people you have set to bypass DND, so she knows you’re ignoring her.

When she makes it to the science building, she kicks off her skateboard, straps it onto her backpack and jogs through the corridors.

Ellie’s sliding into her seat near the back of the lecture hall with a few minutes to spare, so she uses the shortcut on her phone to open your text thread, only to find that there are no new additions.

All that glares back at her are the messages she’d sent you last night when you disappeared from the party.

me: hey bug lunch after my sem? half-off day @ benny’s :)

me: also why won’t u answer my calls, you disappeared on me this morning :/

Just as the professor files in and starts getting ready for his lesson, Ellie’s phone vibrates and she frowns at your message.

lovebug: raincheck on lunch, got a lot of work to catch up on

Something feels way off, makes Ellie queasy.

me: cmon bug jus half an hr, wanna c u :/

lovebug: you saw me yesterday??

me: and ?? ur my best friend, wanna c u all the time

Little does Ellie know that that text makes your stomach roil, makes you curl tighter in a ball in your bed because not only does your room still smell like her from the night prior, but because you don’t have it in you to face the world right now.

When you don’t reply to her message, she huffs out a frustrated breath just as her closest friend after you takes a seat next to her.

“Oh, boy,” Jesse comments. “This can’t be good.”

Ellie falls back in her seat, frustration seeping off her in waves.

“She’s being weird as fuck,” she sighs.

“Who?”

“________,” Ellie fills.

“Oh, your lil’ girlfriend,” Jesse snorts. “Why, what’d you do this time?”

“Nothing, nothing!” Ellie whispers. “And stop calling her that.”

Jesse rolls his eyes.

“Don’t know how many times I gotta tell you it’s not like that,” she grumbles, closing out of your text thread in fear that it’ll drive her even more crazy looking at the Read at 10:01am.

As the professor begins his lecture, Ellie continues fumbling with her phone, only to see a thread from an unfamiliar number. Her brows furrow at the most recent message: don’t let your lil pup see ! xx.

Liv.

It had to be.

She hears Jesse choke on a gasp when she opens the thread and a 4K photo of Liv’s tits flash the screen.

“No fuckin’ way,” Ellie hisses under her breath.

Jesse’s snickering beside her, eyes wide as she accepts the forty dollars into her account and deletes the entire thread altogether.

“Hate that stupid—”

“Shh!”

You avoid Ellie like the plague.

It’s a difficult feat on its own considering Ellie knows your schedule like the back of her hand and she’s waiting outside your lectures for you to surface.

But you adapt quick and you’re taking side exits and different routes while you collect yourself enough to face her.

Nearly a week out and you find that the wound’s still too fresh to pick. Realize as much when Ellie finally corners you during a vulnerable moment in the late afternoon on the way to the library.

“Where the fuck have you been?”

The voice startles you so much, you trip one foot in front of the other, and Ellie’s catching you before you can faceplant on the smooth concrete.

She’s righting you, hands dusting your shoulders off before bumping your dipped chin up to look down at your flushed face.

“Hello?”

“Around,” you answer meekly. “Been busy.”

“Alright, cut the shit,” Ellie sighs. “Last year you had that two week auditing BS and we still made time to see each other. You think you’re slick, but your location’s been pinging from home.”

“I can be busy at home,” you argue quietly. “And if you’re so hellbent on seeing me and you knew I was home, why didn’t you stop by?”

Ellie’s face softens.

“‘Cuz something’s obviously bothering you, bug,” she says, smoothing your hair from your face. “And I’ve been waiting on you to be a big girl and tell me what’s up, but it looks like I have to use other tactics.”

“Nothing’s bothering me,” you try again, gently guiding Ellie’s hands away and making a move to side step her in pursuit of the library.

“Bug, come on,” she groans, turning on her heel to watch you walk away. “I’m trying my best here, what’s got you pent up?”

“Nothing, Ellie!” you say so forcefully, she flinches. “I told you nothing’s fuckin’ wrong! Maybe I just want to be left the fuck alone!”

Ellie blinks hard.

“Oh.”

You take in a deep breath, closing your eyes in defeat as your body goes slack.

“I- fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t–”

She shakes her head.

“S’alright,” she assures you, taking a step away. Suddenly, the air seems to thicken. “Sort yourself out. Call me when you need me, I guess.”

“Ellie–”

She’s turning, dropping the board in her grip down onto the asphalt and mounting before the downslope and your eyes begin to water as you watch her figure grow smaller in the distance.

At first Ellie’d been a little disgruntled, maybe a little frustrated, but her feelings have since simmered and now all that remains is lingering sense of sadness.

There’s a you-shaped hole in her life, one that makes her stare at the swirling ceiling of her living room as she smokes through a joint by herself and wonders what the fuck happened to the two of you so suddenly.

She’s almost embarrassed with how quickly she launches from the couch when she hears three quick raps against the front door. Her yearning heart could only hope, but she’s deflating when she finds Jesse and Dina on the other side.

“Oh,” she sighs in disappointment.

“Oh?” Jesse huffs. “Oh?”

Ellie’s grumbling as she leaves the door open for them as a silent invitation, padding back into the living room to continue her moping session.

“We bring you Benny’s and it’s oh?” Jesse continues.

“Not hungry,” Ellie gripes, forearm draped over her eyes.

“Why the fuck not?” Dina whines. “We got so much food ’cuz you eat like a man.”

“Just not hungry,” Ellie mumbles.

She hears the plastic crinkling and then the telltale sign of Jesse throwing his body weight into the right side of the loveseat.

“Alright, what the fuck is going on?” he prods. “You’ve been weird and mopey for the last two weeks and it’s gross.”

Ellie’s arm falls away and she’s sitting up.

“I don’t fuckin’ get what her issue is!” Ellie moans, throwing her hands up in the air. “One day everything’s fuckin’ great and we’re good, but then it turns on a dime and she won’t even look at me!”

Dina and Jessa share a knowing glance.

“Okay, what’s that supposed to mean?” Ellie grunts.

“Walk me through the last time the two of you talked and things were good,” Dina says, taking the arm rest next to Jesse.

“I think, like, two weeks ago at the party? We were at her house and I was smoking and then we just showed up to the party?” Ellie recounts.

“Okay, what else?” Jesse pries.

“Uh, I dunno, we walked in and I asked her if she wanted a drink,” Ellie continues. “While I’m in the kitchen, Liv comes in and asks me if I wanna smoke. Obvious yes, duh.”

Jesse raises an eyebrow.

“The girl who sent you a picture of her tits?”

“Ew, yes. But that’s besides the point,” Ellie huffs. “I rolled and smoked a little with Liv when I remembered leaving ________ up on the main floor, so I told Liv I had to dip to go get her.”

“You left the girl you’ve been in love with since freshman year all alone at some seedy party—”

“Not seedy, it was Marco’s!” Ellie argues. “And it was like fifteen minutes, tops!”

“Ellie!”

“What? I didn’t stick around anyways,” Ellie says like it assuages the entire situation. “She was being a cunt about me being friends with ________.”

“Okay, well there’s your issue,” Dina says matter-of-factly.

Ellie looks clueless.

“You’re really gonna make me spell it out for you?”

“Well obviously because I’m lost as fuck right now,” Ellie bites.

Dina rolls her eyes.

“You ditched her to smoke with some bitchy mean girl!” Dina says like it should make all the sense in the world. “And then said mean girl sent you a picture of her tits!”

“Okay, well how would—”

It clicks. Like an epiphany, Ellie’s shooting to her feet.

“Oh, fuck.”

It really does make sense now. Why you hadn’t been around the morning after, why she hadn’t seen a notification for Liv’s messages on her lockscreen, why the thread had already been marked as read.

“She saw the messages,” Ellie says, horrified. “Fuck, probably thinks me and Liv were making fun of her.”

Jesse groans.

“It’s way fuckin’ more than that, dipshit.”

Ellie’s brows furrow.

“Huh?”

“Christ, are you actually this airheaded or—”

“Okay, unnecessary,” Ellie interrupts.

“Do you not realize that the two of you have been in love with each other for the past three years?” Jesse cracks. “Of course she’s gonna be upset when you ditch her for other girls, when they send you nudes and—”

“I didn’t—”

“She’s jealous, Ellie,” Dina says. “Probably under the impression that you’re fucking around with Liv and she doesn’t know what to do with herself.”

“Dude, there’s literally zero chance she likes me like that,” Ellie says hesitantly.

“I actually want to play in seven lanes of traffic right now, holy shit,” Jesse scoffs. “You have to be unforgivably blind to not see how fucking down bad that girl is for you.”

“Am I the only one not seeing this, like—”

“Yes.” Jesse and Dina are in unison.

Ellie shifts uncomfortably, rolling her lips as she collapses back in her seat.

“She’s my best friend,” Ellie sighs in defeat. “And I don’t want to ruin things with her. What if she…”

“You gotta take the plunge, Williams,” Jesse encourages. “There’s a lot more than something there.”

Ellie opens her mouth to argue again, but Dina’s cutting her off.

“Stop being such a pussy.”

“Wait, I don’t understand, you said it’s at the student planetarium?” you ask, rushing briskly across the campus.

“Fuck,” Dina mumbles over the receiver. “Yeah, almost positive. Astronomy club was having free donuts during lunch hour and I think I left it in the back row.”

“D!” you whine.

“I know, I’m so sorry,” she moans. “I’m the biggest idiot.”

“No, no,” you breathe, tote bag tight in your grasp as you break into a jog. “I get it, D. It’s the shark-shaped one, right?”

“Yes,” Dina confirms. “God, babe, I really owe you one.”

“You’re okay,” you assure her, climbing the steps to the science building. “I’m going in now. Should be there in less than ten.”

“Okay, I’ll be outside of the lecture hall.”

You hum your goodbye, line going dead as you enter the modern atrium. The area’s spacious, a replica skeleton of a massive dinosaur spanning the center of the entrance.

A digital directory built into one of the imposing square pillars indicates that the planetarium is on the third floor.

You’d only been in twice, both times for research presentations Ellie’d given. Her talk of the the stars and the vastness of the universe made you feel so small. So silly. Now you feel infinitely more silly hunting for a shark-shaped pencil case that houses Dina’s flashdrive she needs for her evening lecture’s slideshow presentation.

You decide to take the steps two at a time, choking for a breath by the time you make it up the third flight of stairs. The double doors to the planetarium are at the end of the hall, and if Dina’s directions are correct, the pencil case should be among the first few seats walking in.

Past the double doors, you find that Dina’s pencil case is, in fact, nowhere to be found in the first aisle that you check. But as something rustles down near the semi-illuminated podium, you find your Ellie standing from one of the front row seats. She turns to face you from the bottom of the auditorium, something akin to nervousness etched into her features.

“Ellie…” you swallow.

“Hey, bug.”

“What are you doing here?” you ask, brows furrowing as you fidget on the first step down, hand gripping the armrest of the last seat.

She rolls her lips, plays with the string of her hoodie as she sucks in a deep breath.

It’s now or never, Jesse pep-talked her on the way here, folder full of coordinates and computer commands pushed into her chest as he bounded away.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” she starts. “I…I—”

“I have someplace to be, Ellie,” you interject. “Dina needs me.”

“Dina doesn’t have a presentation,” Ellie sighs guiltily. “She’s probably sitting on my couch eating my Doritos as payback for getting you over here.”

You look lost.

“Huh?”

“Listen, I knew you weren’t going to talk to me, let alone come all the way here if I asked, so…I got some help.”

And the thought makes you guilty. You and Ellie have been best friends for years. Have seen almost every ugly part of the other. But you don’t know how long you can handle being just that.

“It’s not…” You don’t even know what to say, how to deny the blatantly obvious.

“You’re my closest friend,” Ellie says. “I genuinely don’t know what I’d do without you, and…and these past few weeks have been so shit because this has felt like the end and I didn’t know why.”

You murmur her name, taking a step down.

“I have to ask you something.” Ellie’s throat bobs as she slowly climbs the steps. “And you have to be honest.”

You hesitate before nodding, breath hitching when she stands on the step below you, gazes eye level.

You’re sure she can practically feel the vibrations of your heart nearly beating from your chest, pounding against your ribcage and begging to intertwine with hers.

“Okay,” you whisper.

“Did you leave because you saw Liv’s messages?” she asks bluntly.

Your cheeks warm and your gaze falters, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your shorts.

“I—”

Ellie’s eyes are unblinking, sage and searing.

“Yeah,” you admit hoarsely. “You were asleep and she…she…yeah.”

“Why?” Ellie asks, watching you with bated breath.

This is it, she’s got you right where she wants you and this moment could be the final fissure that cracks the very facade of your friendship and sends the two of you as you know it up in flames.

Her face softens when she notices the tears welling in your eyes, the way your body language has shifted so much in these passing moments. It’s unfamiliar.

“It makes me sick,” you mumble in embarrassment, knuckling the brimming tears aways. “It’s so fucking stupid, but the idea of you with anyone else makes me fucking sick.”

Ellie’s stomach is in knots, knees like jelly and heart squeezing in anticipation.

“Why?” she repeats, voice catching in her throat.

“You know why,” you croak in defeat, expression crumpling.

Your name leaves her lips firmly, hands coming up to grasp your biceps.

“Don’t be cruel,” you hiccup.

Ellie’s biting the inside of her lip, eyes searching yours in contemplation before she’s digging in the pockets of her hoodie and producing the remote to the projectors.

She’s brushing past you, up the steps to hit the lights and fully submerge the room in a split second of darkness. Then a heartbeat passes before a constellation blooms near one of the edges of the domed ceiling.

August 20th, three years ago, labels the smattering of stars and the alignment of the planets.

“What’s this,” you whisper, breath hitching as Ellie leans against the back wall.

“The day we met, first Thursday of freshman year,” Ellie says shakily. “With that stupid fucking coffee. You were wearing that white shirt.”

Your throat tightens when another constellation appears, labeled a few weeks later.

“When we first talked. I got you another drink and started walking you to class.”

You realize that every knitting of stars and planetary bodies are captures of the skies in each labeled moment.

“There was something about you,” Ellie says. “There still is. But this one—” She clicks a button and the projection ripples, clouds rolling and stars twinkling like you’re looking up at the real night sky. “This is when I knew.”

Her voice is dangerously close, a hairsbreadth from your ear. You can feel the warmth of her body enveloping yours, toes curling as you look up to the date marked and mentally sort through your thoughts.

Her first research presentation.

“I was so fuckin’ nervous, bug. And I thought I was gonna shit myself, but then you came in at the last minute and you smiled at me and it felt like we were the only two people in the room,” she admits. “And when I finished that stupid presentation and you found me after those higher ups were talking my ear off about my findings, I—”

Your eyes are glassy as you remember the way Ellie seemed to deflate in relief when you slipped into the auditorium with seconds to spare.

“You…?”

“I realized that maybe you were it for me.”

The breath’s knocked from your lungs as Ellie slides her fingers through yours and tugs you down the shallow steps of the planetarium.

The both of you stop at the beginning of the podium’s circle, sheen of tears blurring your vision as you watch more projections sprout onto the screen like fireworks.

They’re all memories, ones that you’ve cherished since the beginning. You just hadn’t realized that Ellie held them as dearly as you did.

She sucks in a deep breath, hand squeezing yours. And god, she wants to look you in your eyes when she says it, but you make her weak and she’s losing courage.

“Guess what I’m trying to say is that...” She licks her lips, pushes the words out through the nausea. “I love you. A lot. And not just as a friend."

“Oh.”

And Ellie wants to shrink at your response, palms clammy as her fingers loosen.

She feels the dread filter in, mixed with a curdling feeling of regret. But something like sick relief floods her system all the same because this feels like a semblance of freedom.

“Ellie—”

It’s her final shot in the dark.

“Tell me I’m not reading into this wrong,” Ellie says softly. “There’s something here, right? I’m not batshit crazy, am I? I— I—”

Ellie’s frequently wondered what your lips taste like. How they would feel against her own. She’d always figured it’d be a good experience, something she could kick her feet to in the dead of night, but this? God, nothing compares to this.

You taste like peach chapstick and wintergreen, lips plush against hers and Ellie’s pounding heart stutters when your hands cup her cheeks.

You kiss her so fervently, she nearly misses it, the way you murmur against her mouth.

“I love you, Ellie,” you whisper between a breath. “Love you so fuckin’ much.”

You feel her giddy grin, feel the way her hesitant hands finally find purchase, fingertips searing the curve of your waist and the small of your back as you eliminate every space possible.

As the two of you meld together under the stars, Ellie realizes that, that maybe this is what coming home feels like.

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams #ellie williams fic #ellie williams au

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beaulesbian · 2 months

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I was only today years old when I realized that Trafalgar Law's names are probably references to two battles that led in our real life history to a certain emperor (Napoleon)'s defeat.

*arrives 10 years late with a meta post because of a realization*

uhh Dressrosa spoilers, I guess.

Trafalgar and Waterloo... Water Law.

In One Piece world that emperor being Doflamingo, who suffered two major loses thanks to Law's existence:

First being cca 13 years ago from the main storyline - at the Minion Island where Corazon managed to get the Op-op devil fruit for Law and saving his life from Doflamingo. On that island, Doflamingo lost both Corazon and the devil fruit he wanted to much to get his hands on, as well as Law, someone who he wanted to use as the sacrifice to get the immortality via the devil fruit's powers.

Tbh I haven't really heard about the Trafalgar battle before today. When I first heard about Trafalgar Law as character while I started to read One Piece only cca 5 months ago, I only thought "huh, isn't that a square in England, I was there on a trip once" but didn't look more into it now.

So I just skimmed throught the wiki pages of those battles, I don't know all the details, I don't want to compare it too much, but some maybe similarities/parallels that piqued my interest:

The Battle of Trafalgar were the spanish-france forces against english navy, and Donquixote/Dressrosa arc including all those spanish themes, as well as Law being from the North Blue (where Sanji and Mont Blanc Noland are/were also from) being a bit influenced by France, plays interesting role when this happened in North Blue as a prelude to what would 13 years later happen in Dressrosa (the birdcage, Doflamingo's rule, the puppets, etc).

This part of the Trafalgar battle describing the british was at first outnumbered, that the spanish had more ships along with one of their biggest one:

reminded me of how Corazon himself faced with the whole Donquixote family, including Doflamingo:

and some more interesting similarities how the "hero" of the battle died even before it ended:

but thanks to his informations, the Navy later arrived, and Law got away.

(even on the wiki of the Trafalgar battle there were mentions of some false informations, previous pursuits of the ships and admirals etc, so that vibe kind of fits.)

I haven't read much about the Waterloo battle, except how known it is for being the final defeat of Napoleon, by Coalition armies - which would nicely parallel to Law and Luffy starting their own Alliance during Dressrosa, and thanks to that it caused for Luffy to be there to beat Doflamingo once and for all.

Some other small details I noticed:

The Don Quixote book was apparently first published in two parts, one in 1605 and the other in 1615.

The battle of Trafalgar happened in 1805, and the battle of Waterloo in 1815.

I found one person even connecting the date when was published the chapter of Doflamingo's deafeat in Dressrosa - 18th of June, 2015, which is the same date only 200 years later after Napoleon's defeat at Waterloo.

I love that in some sense both battles have in common water, and for the One Piece world that is connected with pirates and ships - with the historical aspects the battle of Trafalgar being a naval battle, and Waterloo for the Water in Trafalgar D. Water Law - he concealed his full name from Doflamingo for all those years, his secret name as well as the will of the Ds. - for our world a possible reference if one looks more that he really was meant to be Doflamingo's downfall.

There's just something beautiful about Law's whole existence to be a sort of a foretelling of the fall of one of the emperors of the sea, just by having these names. And it's not just the names of his, but the parallels to the situations and results of the incidents taking place at those locations.

It's literally a middle finger to Doflamingo:

#anyway.. i had some law feels bc of this #trafalgar law #trafalgar d water law #one piece #donquixote rosinante #donquixote doflamingo #donquixote corazon #one piece meta #gif:op meta #mine #long post #there could be so much more said about this connection to how law saved luffy and luffy in turned saved him.#how law carries Corazon in his heart as someone that needs to be remembered #how small doflamingo was told that because of his lineage and haki he's meant to be the king of all seas #this was all bc of a book i wanted to start rereading that has nothing to do with one piece. but the first sentence was a setting opening #'93 years after trafalgar' and just that made me remembered oh! naval battle on the seas with the same name as a beloved character!#now i can hopefully go back to start rereading that book lol

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fisheshavegill · 22 days

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Gossamer Glades | SJY

jakexfem!reader. !! warnings: slight corny shit going on :) just fluff i guess... wc: 922 [ authors note: just wrapped up with the final part of the Sunghoon fanfic i made, now I'm back to crafting these short pieces. ]

It was a delightful summer morning, ah yes, after stressful weeks of studying, staying up all night, and relentless pursuit of grades you’ve invested your soul into.

The path always comes with “endless” opportunities, like what the lady librarian told you last week. But she also warned that amidst those “opportunities”, there will be dead ends lurking.

That indented your whole brain for days now, hasn’t it? talk about your college applications? Specifically with Harvard, Stanford, Yale—the epitome of Ivy League aspirations— and also other colleges occupying your thoughts. What if every prestigious. No. What if every institution you’ve set your sights on ever since you were a child ends up diminishing you?

“Relax, we haven’t even seen the results yet” Jake reassures, his fingers gently weaving through your hair. “You’re freaking out over nothing” he adds.

more under the cut

You roll your eyes unimpressed with how he tried to soothe your worries with his comforting touch. “Easy for you to say because you were born a natural” you quip, a hint of playful sarcasm lacing your words.

“Hey, I myself have been spanked several times for not acing several yet simple Kumon drills back then” Jake admits as you rose from his lap.

Today, it was just the both of you, having a picnic by the lake, located between the town and its outskirts. It was some random “getaway” you both planned in the middle of the night during a Facetime call.

"Besides spending countless nights overthinking continuous rejection from colleges, even the ones with gates that probably have gold trimmings," you quip with an exaggerated sigh, “what other misfortunes are waiting me in this life” you say shooting a glance at Jake, whose brain is likely hosting a whole symphony, planning the best response to your endless rants.

He casts you a glance before swiftly grabbing your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours. “Relax, Babe” his voice soothes “Life's journey has a way of unfolding just as it should.” He gives a soft peck on your lips before rummaging through the picnic basket.

Although his sweet gesture preludes, this even made you overthink more with the growing silence in the atmosphere.

“Well..”

“Yesterday I received a letter from Duke University” you trailed off, but it made him prompt a glance at you, eyebrows raised in curiosity waiting for you to continue.

“I got denied” you sighed, the weight of disappointment hanging heavy in the air. Jake’s face looked a bit sad if not a touch more pronounced.

“Did you hear back from them too?” you raise your eyebrows at his silent demeanor.

“I did” he said as he grabs a lunchbox out of the basket.

“Well, what did yours say?” your press, noticing the hesitation in his gaze as it lingers on you.

“You got in, didn’t you?” your murmur as your face dropped.

“No… I also got denied” he says as he open the lid of a lunchbox. You nod knowing full well he’s not being truthful.

“He got accepted, but he’s sparing my feelings by keeping it to himself?” you thought

You sighed, the thought still not fading away as you rest your head on your knees.

“Hey it’s going to be alright okay?” he comforts you, patting your back.

He gently tucks strands of your hair behind your ear to better see your face. "And hey, who needs Duke University anyway?" he adds with a playful grin. "There are plenty of other colleges out there just waiting for us to conquer them together."

“I’m already paranoid” you trailed off, eye rolling while looking at him.

Jake’s eyebrows both raised as if you were quipping a mix of fear and humor.

“Hm?” he mutters as if he did something wrong.

Your voice tinged with vulnerability as you meet his gaze with a pout "that you might trade me in for another Asian girl that impeccably dresses good, who probably solves quantum physics problems for fun and has a family straight out of a”

He cuts you out as he slips a strawberry in your mouth, enough to shut you up.

“Well” he teases as he looks at you with a mischievous smile observing your stunned reaction "does that silence taste as good as it looks?"

“Its sweet, isn’t it?” he slightly tilts his head as you munch on the fruit. He leans in, eyes twinkling “It’s as sweet as my love for you” he whispers, his breath causing goosebumps

“You’re corny” you say eye rolling at him which earned you his laugh as you glared at him.

“Well, because you think that I am going to chase after another Asian girl who’s much “better than you?” he pinches your cheeks “Why would I? when you’re already the best” he says as a smile appeared at the corner of his lips. “I hope you know just how much I adore you," Jake adds earnestly.

He gently lifts your chin with a finger, you tilt your face to meet his gaze as he leans closer to you feeling the press of his soft lips against yours in a delicate kiss.

Just right after that he chuckles pinching your cheek once more. “Why don’t we eat the delicious food that I nearly burnt my hand just for you, hm?” he suggests with a playful grin.

“And just to sweeten the deal, it's made with all your favorite ingredients," he adds, winking as if he's just revealed a top-secret recipe

#enha x reader #enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enha #enha fluff #jake enhypen #jake enha #jaeyun #sim jaeyun #sim jake

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dean-winchester-is-a-warrior · 10 months

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I See You

This fic will fulfill the F/M square in my @spnkinkevents bingo card:

Since F/M is not a kink in itself, I've added orgasm denial as the kink. 😊

Summary: His eyes won't leave her body, he needs to see her pleasure.

Warnings/Explicit 18+: Smut. Complete Smut. Definitely Porn w/o Plot, Fingering, Oral (f receiving), unprotected PinV sex, orgasm denial, slight dom/sub vibes (sub!reader), Fluff if you blink.

Pairings: Your choice: Dean x f!reader, or Jensen x f!reader, or Beau x f!reader, or Ben x f!reader (a slightly softer version of Ben, anyway.)

Word Count: 998

A/N: So this just leaked out of my horndog brain this evening. I blame the fact that I just recently rewatched the Dean and Anna scene in Heaven and Hell again. And just...JFC! The way he watches her never fails to make me pant and swoon! Hope you enjoy! 😁

The beautiful dividers both below and at the bottom were created by @talesmaniac89

His hands and mouth are heaven. His lips slide across your skin like warm silk. His tongue creates patterns you can feel branded into you. His touch is slow, his hands rough as they drag over you and cause shivers.

He doesn't look away from you. No matter how many times you cry out and close your eyes in blissful ecstasy, when they pop open again, his beautiful emerald gaze is still on you, still watching your pleasure, measuring it, increasing it.

As he sinks his mouth into the dripping wet folds of your body, he continues to watch you. His eyes travel up the length of your body, noticing every quiver of your muscles and repeating the things he does with his tongue every time he sees it make you shake.

Two fingers push slowly into your body; they're thick and they fill you up, leave you clenching them tight, as you pant out your pleas for more.

"Please…? Please!" It's a hoarse whisper of need ripped out of your throat by his skill, patience, and relentless pursuit of your pleasure.

He sucks your clit between his plump, luscious lips, making you scream and plunge your hands into his hair, tugging hard.

"Please? I need…"

But you see him shake his head, and his deep voice rumbles over you. "Not until I say, Princess."

You tighten your thighs around his ears, trying to get control of yourself, but also trying to create more friction. Showing no mercy, he pushes your thighs back open and flicks the tip of his tongue over your clit.

He watches the way you bite your bottom lip to keep from screaming, and he pulls back.

"Don't do that, baby." His fingers curl perfectly inside you, pressing against your sweet spot. "Give me all your screams."

He's in total control of your body, and gets his wish quickly as screams of passion erupt from your throat. But still he will not let you come, and still he watches you.

You're a writhing, drenched mess beneath him. You scratch at his broad shoulders, desperate and flailing, head tossing back and forth on the pillow.

"I can't, please, I can't hold back anymore, please, please?" You beg as you try to pull back from his hot, demanding mouth, seeking a reprieve.

But his vastly superior strength keeps you right where he wants you as he continues to torture your flesh with aching pleasure. He watches you beg, heat sparking even more in his jewel-like eyes.

"I said no."

His forceful growl sinks deep into your cunt, making your belly clench and bringing your climax tantalizingly closer.

He swipes his wide tongue up through your folds, before sinking it deep inside your hole. You scream out again and feel your walls begin to quiver, always a prelude to your climax. You know you're seconds away from crashing; you can't hold back the tidal waves of pleasure any longer.

He knows it too, and pulls back from you at the last moment, leaving you achingly empty and painfully unfulfilled.

His big hands hold you wide open, so you can't manage any friction or pressure to push yourself over the edge, so your hips buck uselessly against empty air.

Your need makes tears roll down your cheeks, and that's what does him in. He sees the tears and moves back up your body. He kisses away the droplets, before pressing his lips against yours, pushing your own tangy flavor into your mouth with his tongue.

As he pulls back from the kiss, your eyes stay closed, and your breathing is ragged; your body is thrumming, every muscle tense and needy.

"Open your eyes." He orders and you follow immediately looking up into his perfect face, as his expression softens.

His fingers slide into you as he captures your gaze. "Okay, baby. Let go."

With his words your body contorts and spasms with your long-awaited release. Waves and waves of endless, pure, pleasure crash over you.

You're gushing onto his cock as he slips inside you and groans at the way your climaxing body grips him tight. He fills you so instantly, so completely, that your next few orgasms hit automatically one after the other. You finally give up trying to maintain eye contact, and simply crash your eyelids down and allow the exquisite pressure and stretch of his massive cock to keep you coming over and over.

Every time your eyelids flutter open though, it's to see him still staring at you, into you. He watches for every small movement in your face, every barely noticeable gasp, watches every sign your body gives him as he rides you long and hard, wringing every ounce of pleasure and ecstasy from you before he finally slams himself home hard, throwing his head back and letting out a shout of his own before falling beside you on the bed.

It's your turn to watch him now, shifting to your side to admire him as he comes down. The sweat that trickles down from his temple and shines beautifully across the broad muscles of his torso, gilds him so that he glows. His chest heaves and his breath comes fast through his puffy, pink lips.

Eventually he turns his head towards you and you kiss those swollen lips, and he watches you now with love in his magnificent green eyes.

"You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." He says quietly, lifting a hand to push your sweaty hair back from your forehead.

You scoff a little, never good at compliments. But he cups your cheek and makes you look him in the eye.

"Hey," he says with conviction, "I see you, Y/N. I see you. And what I see is everything I've ever wanted."

With your heart full and your body and mind completely exhausted all you can do is snuggle into his side and place a kiss to his chest, only just managing to mumble back how much you love him.

1 - Jensen RPF + Any/All characters Jensen plays. @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @impalaslytherin @maggiegirl17 @akshi8278 @candy-coated-misery0731 @deanswaywardgirl @slytherinlyn314 @globetrotter28 @jensensgirl @perpetualabsurdity @tristanrosspada-ackles @djs8891 @muhahaha303 @kayyay1219 @emily-winchester @recoveringpastaaddict @maximumkillshot @mimaria420 @sacriceria @envyaurora95 @lacilou @jc-winchester @spnwoman

2 - Dean Winchester Fics Only. @carryonwaywardgirl

3 - Any/All Fics (regardless of fandom/character.) @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @alexxavicry @nancymcl @spalady26

4 - Everything (includes fan vid/DOOL edits as well) @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @maliburenee @supernatural4life2022 @spn730015 @kickingitwithkirk @waywardbaby @foxyjwls007 @deanwanddamons @deandreamernp @deanwithscissors @myloversgone @snowlovespie @leigh70 @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @charred-angelwings @hopefuldreamers-world @jensensgotyoudean @thoughts-and-funnies @magssteenkamp @princessmisery666 @eevvvaa @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @waynes-multiverse @mrsjenniferwinchester @bernasaurus @jensenslady79 @courtn92 @avanatural @ellie-andthemachine @this-is-me19 @roseblue373 @katbratsupernaturalwhore @fanfic-n-tabulous

#dean x reader #jensen ackles rpf #jensen x reader #dean winchester smut #jensen ackles smut #beau x reader #soldier boy x reader #ben x reader #beau arlen smut #soldier boy smut #spnkinkevents

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peterrefur · 4 months

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As long as her hands are so warm ⅏ Wilbur Soot x GN!Reader

Summary: William Gold, a performer, seeks a break from fame and proposes a trip with his partner, Reader, to take a break from life and slow down for a bit. Notes: Hey Mate!!! I’m Peter and I say right away that English is not my first language. I’m curious to hear your opinion about this work in the comments! Enjoy!

𝒜s LoveJoy and I extinguished the candles marking our 100th concert celebration, a wave of relief washed over me. The weight of the relentless schedule lifted, granting me the rare opportunity to relax and simply be; free from the ceaseless churn of thoughts and obligations.

I couldn't help but marvel at artists who thrive in the whirlwind of weekly gigs, or even more frequent performances! It's crazy. Especially for someone like me—an introvert who grapples with panic during crowded spaces.

𝒮o, now lying in the cocoon of our hotel bed, I steal a moment to gaze at my beloved, my anchor amidst the chaos of life on the road. They nestle closer, their rhythmic breaths stirring gentle wisps of air against my unshaven chest. With tender fingers, I weave through their hair, finding solace in the simple intimacy of our connection, knowing they'll stand by me through every storm, even when words fail to express my love.

Continuing to stroke their hair, but as I reach for distraction, checking my bank account on my phone, a peculiar sensation grips my stomach and tightens around my neck—a prelude to either nausea or panic.

I try to calm my racing breath and look towards the window in the hotel room.

𝒯he notion of living in America flits through my mind, a tantalizing prospect amid the newfound respite from the relentless demands of fame and performance.

Maybe?

Perhaps now that I'll have a break from everything... From social media, from singing, from fans, from spotlight.

Am I able to take a break? Do I even know what that means?

After all, isn't the pursuit of self-discovery worth the risk of venturing into the unknown?

* * *

“𝒮o, if I understand you correctly, you want to spend New Year's Eve in New York?" Reader inquires, their voice tinged with curiosity as they zip up the suitcase resting on the bed.

I scratch the back of my neck and lean against the bathroom door, brushing my teeth. "Not really, I want to go back to England with you for two days, maybe three. Repack. Then, we could return to New York and stay there for a while. Until March, perhaps even April?" I respond tentatively, uncertain of how my suggestion will be received.

Knowing Reader's preference for structured plans and aversion to spontaneous ‘getaways’, I brace myself for their response. “Of course, I'll organise it; I've already found a small flat, not even a studio. One bedroom connected to the kitchen and living room, but enough for us. Plus, there's a sofa if we need extra sleeping space. And don't worry, we have enough savings for it, we have enough savings for that." I say and resume brushing my teeth while listening to the silence of the hotel room.

𝒜s the moments tick by, the absence of Reader's response weighs heavily on me. Did I say something wrong? Should I have approached the topic differently? Doubt creeps in, mingling with the lingering fear of disrupting Reader's plans and inadvertently coming across as selfish.

𝒫erhaps, I muse silently, I should take matters into my own hands. Maybe Reader already has plans in mind, and my impromptu proposal is throwing a wrench into their carefully crafted itinerary. Am I being unreasonable? Self-cantered, even? Self-obsessed bitch?

I spit out the toothpaste and look at my reflection in the bathroom mirror.

A sudden realization dawns upon me. Perhaps Reader is looking for a change, just like I am. Maybe my impromptu proposal has struck a chord within them. With newfound determination, I decide to approach Reader and express my thoughts openly. As I approach them, their eyes meet mine, mirroring the flicker of curiosity that dances within me.

𝒲ithout hesitation, I blurt out my idea, stumbling over my words in a rush of enthusiasm.

"I'm tired ... mentally. I know how much is waiting for me..." I manage a faint smile, the weight of anticipation and expectation pressing down on me. "as well as for you in the new year. 2024 promises to be very good for me. For you. For us. And I not only want a break from Wilbur Soot, but I want William Gold, to be with you now. Even if you were to force me out of bed like you used to. All I want is to rest. And I will fully understand if you say no. Because at the end of the day, I'm the one dragging you on tour and changing your plans for months." As the words spill from my lips, I can't help but acknowledge the weight of my confession. I admit, perhaps for the first time, that I haven't always prioritized their well-being amidst the whirlwind of my own ambitions and aspirations.

𝒯heir eyes fix on me, penetrating and perceptive, leaving me feeling exposed and vulnerable. I instinctively avert my gaze, unable to withstand the intensity of their scrutiny. In that moment, I feel naked, stripped bare of pretense and facade.

Yet, even in my vulnerability, I find solace in the knowledge that I've spoken my truth, laying bare my desires and vulnerabilities before them.

"Is this what you need? No. Wait," Reader pauses, their brows furrowing in contemplation as they gaze into my eyes. Their smaller hands gently cup my cheeks, grounding me with their touch. "Do you want me to be there for you while you relax? I don't want to be a problem or a distraction," they inquire, their voice carrying a depth of emotion that eludes my grasp.

"You, a problem?" I shake my head, disbelief tinging my words. "I could be the problem. All you are is a sun in my day, even when the day is full of rain. I want you by my side," I declare, the sincerity of my words reverberating in the air between us. Yet, even as I speak, a nagging doubt creeps in, whispering the fear of sounding manipulative or imposing my desires onto them.

𝒞an I truly allow myself to lean on them, to relinquish control and accept their support without reservation? And can they, in turn, offer their presence without feeling burdened or constrained? As I search their eyes for answers, I find solace in the warmth of their touch and the tenderness of their gaze.

I realise that perhaps, just perhaps, I have found the person I have been looking for so, so long.

"I will be there for you," their words, simple yet profound, stir something deep within me. Tears prickle at the corners of my eyes, an inexplicable surge of emotion welling up within my chest. Without hesitation, I envelop them in a tight embrace, seeking solace in the warmth of their embrace and the sanctuary of their presence.

As I bury my face where their neck meets their shoulder, a sense of peace washes over me, chasing away the shadows of doubt and uncertainty that have plagued me for so long. In their arms, I find refuge from the storms of life, a haven of acceptance and understanding that I've long yearned for.

"Thank you."

* * *

𝒮pending days together with them feels like a waking dream, each moment steeped in a timeless embrace that defies the constraints of the world around us. We walk hand in hand, weaving through the bustling streets, our laughter mingling with the rhythm of life pulsating around us.

A trip to Whole Foods becomes an adventure in culinary exploration, as we meander through aisles adorned with vibrant produce and artisanal delights. With each item we select, we exchange knowing glances and playful banter, our shared excitement palpable in the air.

Exchanging knit-caps becomes a symbol of our bond, a tangible reminder of the warmth and comfort we find in each other's presence. Exchanging knit-caps becomes a symbol of our bond, a tangible reminder of the warmth and comfort we find in each other's presence. They specifically learn how to knit to make me a cap.

Every US monument we encounter becomes a portal to the past, as we recount its anachronistic history with fervent enthusiasm. With each story we share, we delve deeper into the rich tapestry of American heritage, finding connection and meaning in the echoes of the past.

Spending time eating popcorn while watching movies becomes a cherished ritual, a sanctuary of relaxation and intimacy amidst the chaos of the world outside. As we snuggle close on the couch, the glow of the screen illuminating our faces, we lose ourselves in the magic of cinema.

Burning one joint for two, as we pass the makeshift torch between us, sharing in the euphoria of a shared high. With each inhale, we surrender to the intoxicating embrace of the moment, our bodies melting into the blissful haze of mutual contentment.

Sex becomes an act of pure devotion, a celebration of our connection and mutual desire to make each other feel truly alive. With each touch, each caress, we lose ourselves in the ecstasy of the moment, our bodies becoming vessels of passion and pleasure.

In those fleeting moments, as we bask in the warmth of each other's presence, our hearts overflow with gratitude for the gift of love and companionship that we share. Whether embarking on a little trip to visit mutual friends or eagerly awaiting their arrival at our doorstep, every moment spent in the company of loved ones becomes an opportunity for joy and connection.

𝒪ur journey to Niagara Falls with Leandra, Joe, his partner, and Ash. As we stand in awe of nature's majestic spectacle, the roar of the cascading waterfalls echoing in our ears, we find solace in the shared experience and the laughter that bubbles forth from our lips.

Yet, amidst the beauty of the natural world and the warmth of friendship, it is the presence of Reader that truly fills me with a sense of fulfilment. With each glance exchanged and each tender moment shared, I feel myself growing more and more ready for a future with them by my side.

𝐼n their eyes, I see the promise of endless possibilities and the unwavering support of a true partner.

#wilbur soot x Olga #wilbur soot x you #mcyt wilbur #mcyt x Olga #mcyt x you #wilbur mcyt #wilbur soot fic #wilbur soot #wilbur x you #wilbur post #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x y/n #mcyt x reader #Mammalian Sighing Reflex

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leaves-of-laurelin · 5 months

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I missed this last Wednesday, but thank you to @kiwiana-writes @affectionatelyrs @happiness-of-the-pursuit @hgejfmw-hgejhsf and @cha-melodius for tagging me in various tag games over the past week plus.

Here again is another snippet from the sci-fi actors au that I have been working on. Happy to say that I hit 25K words on this WIP this week and I'm definitely going to be ready to start sharing it once we're in the new year.

“You’re serious?” “I am," he responds and, for a horrifying moment Alex thinks he may have completely miscalculated, but then Henry begins to move, begins to close the distance between them with eyes that are darkening. When he reaches Alex, Henry’s hand comes down heavy onto his shoulder, thumb pressing into his clavicle. He doesn’t pause his forward motion though, and so Alex is being pushed backwards. Something hot zips through his body from the manhandling, from the anticipation, and then from the feeling of his back making contact with the wall. Henry’s neck dips and Alex, almost as if on instinct, pulls his face back the same amount. He’s kissed those lips, he knows how soft they are, he knows what it feels like for Henry’s tongue to slide against his own. Those were fake kisses though, with cameras and costumes and so many eyes on them. If he kisses Henry now then it would be real, then Alex would know exactly what emotion Henry would put into a real kiss with him. Would it be as formal as their stage kisses? Would it be hurried and horny, kissing just as a prelude to the next step? Or would it be slow, would Henry kiss him with a tenderness so frightening that it steals Alex’s breath from his lungs and leaves him changed in ways that cannot be allowed? Alex doesn’t think he could handle the answer, whatever it would be. For a long, still moment Henry’s eyes study him and Alex wonders if that’s the end of it, if Henry has been insulted and will send Alex to the door. Instead he straightens up his spine, looks down at Alex from his full height for another breath, and then sinks onto his knees. The blood in Alex’s body surges to his crotch as Henry comes level with it, hands curling around the outside of Alex’s thighs as blue eyes stay locked on his.

Tagging everyone back as well as @littlemisskittentoes @daisymae-12 @inexplicablymine @cricketnationrise @dumbpeachjuice @rmd-writes @clottedcreamfudge @firenati0n and anyone else who wants to join in!

#alex is being a bit of an idiot #what else is new #but he has a really good reason here i promise #wip wednesday #binary light #sci-fi actors au #rwrb #rwrb fanfic #firstprince #tag games #snippet

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concussed-to-pieces · 7 months

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Wolves At The Door; Part Eight

Fandom: Resident Evil [Village]

Pairing: Eventual Karl Heisenberg/AFAB!Reader

Rating: Holy shit M.

Summary: You both skied in silence for a long while, Karl absently watching your hips move back and forth beneath your snowsuit. Due to the stark uniformity of the surrounding area there wasn't much else to look at anyways, so he didn't feel particularly bad for doing so.

A/N: Welcome all, welcome to our eighth installment! There will be no update on the 15th, so our next installment will come on the 22nd. Thank you for reading 💚Enjoy!

Tag List: @cookiethewriter @amneris21 @topgirl17 @vodkafolie @a-smol-witch @clockworkmidnight @calwitch @silver-quinn01 @velvet-paradox @hijackser @mrs-wolfwood @nonstop-haikyuu @mic-sunderland @somethingthatsaysbubbles @fullofmoonsandstars @stargazerofgoldenwords @imthegreenfairy86 @karlskitten @nitrogennightmare @chunnies @thirstworldproblemss @highly-unknown @tartimaar-bloggeth @thesmartbiscuit @spoopyredacted @crowtrobotx @kotall-ohh @doggydale

x. Prelude

1. Indebted

2. Blood On Your Hands

3. Brush With Death

4. Come To Bed

5. Smells Like Snow

6. Hot Iron

7. Turnover

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains mentions of blood, canon-typical violence, sexual acts between two consenting adults and graphic depictions of mental and physical duress. Stay safe!]

Tucking into his sleeping bag that night, this time on a wooden lean-to thatched with old pine boughs, his stomach full of a delicious meal, Karl knew he ought to be content.

Hell, he ought to be worn out from a day of socializing.

But all he could focus on was your back. You had spread out your sleeping roll next to his once you returned from the bathhouse, wished him goodnight sleepily and then immediately nodded off. You were on the outside instead of him, which Karl wasn't enormously fond of, but he understood that you were just too exhausted to climb over him.

Your back was tantalizingly close. It was the only part of you not wholly engulfed by your sleeping bag. He already knew what the weave of your thermal shirt felt like, after last night-

Karl forced himself to roll onto his back, tearing his eyes away from you. Thinking about it too much felt…wrong, somehow, like he was about to get his wrist slapped. Or broken. The merciful Mother Miranda hadn't exactly spared the rod when it came to him.

The man forced a quiet breath out through his nose, his fingers absently mapping the length of the scar on his lower lip.

It was still immensely foreign for him to want something and not instantly indulge himself in it. Really, it was going against the nature of the beast! Karl felt a little fake over the whole thing, like he was expected to just…devour you. Swallow you whole and leave nothing but the bones. This slow approach…

Was there anything in life actually worth waiting for? Gods, it had always been such a mad dash ever since he had decided he wanted to kill Miranda. Karl hadn't thought about waiting for anything else in years upon years, his single-minded ambition serving him well in that pursuit.

Karl glanced over at you again before he could stop himself.

Yes. Was it being greedy if you wanted it too?

He barely refrained from groaning, the man jamming his knuckles against his eyes in frustration. Sleep didn't come easily for him that night.

So he was a little disgruntled when he was awoken again, well before dawn if the sky was anything to go by. However, his malcontent rapidly vanished as he heard you drowsily ask, "can I put your dick in my mouth?"

Heisenberg didn't even think about his reply, much to his dismay. The word rushed out of his mouth before he could register it. "Absolutely." He grunted, your hand immediately moving to rest on the plane of his hip. "Aren't you tired though?"

"A little," you admitted, yawning, "but I want to do this."

"Listen, I…last night was kind of a fluke for me." Karl warned you gruffly, his words slow to come. It hadn't even been a fluke, it had been an outright baffling turn of events for him to only come once. In the past, it had always taken him a short eternity, at least three orgasms before he was satisfied. Something about last night, something about you had to have been different. Maybe it was the fact that it had been so long for him. "If you start this, it's probably not going to be over for…well, a while. So you don't have t-"

"Shh." You mumbled, unzipping his pants. "I don't care. I'm not doing this to get it out of the way, Karl."

His misgivings quickly faded when you ran your tongue over the side of his dick, Karl hissing out a breath and groaning. You looked incredible with his dick in your mouth. Your eyes were heated and drowsy, your hair still a mess from sleep, slightly-chilled fingers wrapped around the base of his cock so you could engulf him in your mouth…incredible, he could at least admit to himself. Even if he didn't deserve it.

And he certainly didn't.

"Get up here." He managed to say, patting his chest.

You pulled your mouth away, squinting up at him. "Where?" You asked, your spit-slick palm still working his cock.

Karl gritted his teeth; he had forgotten you couldn't really see in the dark. "Uh. On my face." He finally clarified awkwardly. "I want you to sit on my face, sugar."

"Oh." You breathed. Something in your tone made Karl's dick twitch, which was very new. He'd never had anything like that happen.

Fuck, what the hell was the matter with him? One person showed a little interest and all of a sudden his body was screaming for them? It felt pitiful, but maybe it made sense. No one had ever wanted him before, they had always wanted what he could offer them. Karl hadn't exactly had his pick of bedfellows either, the man not overeager to lose his dick to one thing or another.

Maybe this was normal.

However, he didn't really feel like dedicating any more thought to that particular issue, choosing instead to focus on you gingerly straddling his head.

…

Morning found you wrapped around a slumbering Karl, the insides of your thighs still pleasantly sensitive from the rub of his facial hair. You groaned, stretching and then settling back into his arms for another minute or two.

Your mind drifted back to you waking up in the middle of the night, the sudden impulse to offer a sexual favor, acting on said impulse and how gratifying Karl's response had been. Hell, he hadn't so much as taken a beat before he answered. Your jaw was a little stiff this morning, but to be fair, he had warned you and apologized for how long the act might take. He had also gotten you off as well, which was unexpected but appreciated.

In the cold daylight you grimaced at yourself, thinking everything over. It might not be…so bad, having someone around that, even while being emotionally unavailable, was physically attracted to you. The attention was nice. The way he looked at you was nice. You could live with an arrangement like this. The two of you cohabitating, occasionally sleeping together, but without the mess of a relationship.

It felt smart. Logical. A mutually-beneficial endeavor.

You nodded, your mind made up, and with that settled you moved to retrieve your discarded leggings from the base of your sleeping bag. The town campground had the rare luxury of bathrooms with running water and you intended to take full advantage of them once more. Any time you could bathe without having to lug or heat the water yourself was prized.

Upon your return from getting washed up for the day, Karl was just struggling out of the tangled mess of his sleeping bag. You took in the way he looked for a moment, catching yourself smiling at his disheveled appearance before he looked up with a scowl.

Seems like you may have tamed me.

"Thought you got eaten." He said unconvincingly, yawning midway through his sentence.

"Well, you certainly made a valiant attempt at doing so last night." You shot back, snickering at his momentary confusion. Whatever his hangup had been, it seemed that the casual nature of your most recent offer had been enough to dispel it. Heisenberg actually laughed once he realized what you were getting at, the sound refreshing in its honesty.

"You know how I am, always ravenous." He teased with a wink, beginning to messily roll up his bedding. "At least you let me sleep for a few hours-"

"'Let' you, oh my God you're so dramatic."

Continuing to banter back and forth, the two of you broke down camp for the morning and got everything packed back up. As usual, you were returning to Emil's to pick up the supplies that you had secured the previous day, and from there it was back on the trail.

Karl seemed to be in high spirits this morning, the man carrying on a lively, one-sided conversation with a glowering Emil while he effortlessly loaded the sled with bags of flour and sugar. Emil had always helped you in the past, so it was a bit humorous to see how put-out the elderly man was over Karl's assistance.

"Take care of yourself, little one." Emil said before you departed, his brows furrowed in a serious expression. "We don't know what happened regarding the military presence at the reservoir and…" he paused, aiming a glare at the oblivious Karl. "Well, we don't know what we don't know, I suppose." He finished grudgingly.

"Thanks for looking out for me." You grinned, making Emil reluctantly smile back. "I can handle myself, but I appreciate the concern."

Emil caught your arm as you turned to leave. "I…I am unsure of the validity of Marku's reports. Promise me you will be safe." He murmured. You nodded. His shoulders sagged, the elderly man clearly relieved. "Thank you for humoring me, little one."

…

"What's he to you, some kind of uncle?" Heisenberg finally asked after the two of you had crossed the town line (indicated by a metal sign so worn it was essentially illegible). "Seemed a little more concerned than the average butcher or baker."

You sighed, glancing over at him. "Emil worked with my relatives for a long time, like I said. He's basically watched me grow up, coming here every fall for years and years with my family."

Karl 'hmm'ed, still annoyed with how Emil had sullenly watched him, but at least now he understood why. "Guess I'll have to let it slide, then." He joked lightly. "The disrespect."

He didn't expect you to laugh. "Don't feel special, he's like that with everyone new. Just stick around and he'll warm up to you."

Stick around. Karl wasn't sure what to make of that. He busied himself adjusting the load on the sled, double-checking the straps wrapped around the bags of flour and brown sugar.

Did you…want him to stick around? Did you want him to stay in your cabin even longer?

Indebted.

Karl tossed his head, jamming his hat back down as the wind whipped through the trees. "I assume you know the way?" He called over the wind, smirking when you gestured downward with a deadpan expression at the rutted, snow-covered track. The runner marks from the sled were still visible as well, indicating where the two of you had passed by yesterday.

You both skied in silence for a long while, Karl absently watching your hips move back and forth beneath your snowsuit. Due to the stark uniformity of the surrounding area there wasn't much else to look at anyways, so he didn't feel particularly bad for doing so.

Casual, maybe that's what you were interested in? A casual relationship, some sort of mutually beneficial arrangement. You didn't seem to feel strongly one way or another, always keeping your cards close to your chest. It was probably simpler to keep things casual anyway.

You had mentioned Emil and Marku saying something about 'a military presence at the reservoir'. He could only assume it was Moreau's reservoir, especially after that hunched old shepherd had asked if he had any relation to the Heisenberg factory.

You look familiar.

Had the older generation in that town met his relatives? His father, maybe? A shudder ran down his spine at the thought. Unless his former family had been better at hiding their urges than he was, he doubted they had left a good impression. He had gotten his legendary temper somewhere, after all.

That particular train of thought steamed onward, souring Karl's mood into a black chasm of bitter half-memories. Family was such a loaded topic, but it really always had been. After his father had passed on (too bad, so sad), family was confusing at best and downright terrible at worst. He didn't have anyone. He never had, and if he'd had his way it would have stayed as such. The bastardization of siblings, of mother, would always make him writhe. Even at a young age, he knew better than to trust what that cult leader wanted to fill his mind with.

They were a means to an end, they always had been. Miranda prettying it up with family was just another tactic to keep them loyal, devoted, good little sheep in her flock.

"You okay?" Karl started at the sound of your voice beside him, the man quickly turning. You had paused for a drink, your water bottle in hand while you raised an eyebrow at him.

Damn, he was parched. "Lost in thought." Heisenberg muttered.

"Want to talk about-"

"No." He snapped, then cringed at the way your face briefly showed your hurt before you could hide it. "I uh, no. Sorry. This stuff is better off in my head."

"Don't think too hard, okay? I can see the steam coming out of your ears." You retorted snidely.

Karl gave you a hollow grin, taking a healthy sip from his own bottle. "What can I say? I'm a machine of industry."

…

You may as well have been alone for all that your companion offered to the trek in terms of conversation. He trundled along behind you silently, the sled rails crunching through the icy top of the snow under their heavy burden. Nearly two hundred pounds of flour and sugar, never mind the other, less bulky items you had picked up. Your own backpack was carefully loaded to the brim, full of small essentials that would make your winter bearable. It was always important to find ways to stave off the boredom during the cold months, where it seemed like the entire world was hibernating except for you.

The two of you walked well into the afternoon to reach the lean-to, choosing to eat lunch on the road as opposed to stopping. You found that often if you had a fully-loaded pack, stopping and starting back up again was more difficult than just continuing to plod forward. Karl didn't seem to mind one way or another, the man having no issue with keeping the even pace.

Upon reaching the lean-to, you took in the copious tracks through the snow around the area. Wolf prints criss-crossed over yours and Karl's, and at the outskirts of the clearing was the meandering trail of a solitary bear. You whistled at the sight of that, a little concerned. The lean-to was only about three feet off the ground; a normal-sized brown bear would be able to crawl into it on top of you and Karl and you doubted it would be overly thrilled with your company.

"What the hell? That big bitch ought to be in hibernation." Karl grumbled as he came up alongside you, the man placing a boot firmly in the middle of a pawprint.

"Late bloomer, I guess." You shrugged, sighing. "I usually don't get much sleep on the return trip anyway. Too much food and the smells attract the wildlife."

"Sugar, I'm here." Karl thumped himself on the chest, making you snort. "If that bear wants to pick a fight, I'll go mano a mano with it. I do not give a shit."

"I mean you're a bit better suited to the challenge than the average person, what with your ability to make metal listen to you." You pointed out. "The rest of us normies would have a real rough time, especially without a gun." Heisenberg's scoff of derision at that was almost deafening, startling another snicker out of you. "Forgive me, Lord Heisenberg." You teased.

"Don't call me that." His tone dropped to a low growl, entirely lacking in humor. You gave him a confused look and he groaned, scrubbing a hand over his face. "Look, I…I just don't want to think about that shit right now," he continued quietly.

"Okay." Christ, you felt awkward. "Sorry."

"It's fine." Karl glanced around, then set off in a random direction. You watched him go, worried until he bent to scoop up a few twigs from beneath a tree. The relief that washed over you was…odd, so you staunchly ignored it by beginning to mound up the ashes in the fire pit.

Scraping the char off to the sides, you worked to separate out the half-burned sticks from the rest of the ash so that you could build the fire properly. A few moments of digging around later and you had a decent pile of kindling, using your knife to splinter the burnt branches into a more useful size. The act was meditative, helping you to turn off the part of you that so desperately wanted to think about Karl, about his past, about…

You shook your head, frustrated at yourself. Now wasn't the time for this! You needed to get the fire going before you lost daylight. That was the priority.

Karl dumped an armful of branches onto the ground beside the half barrel, his eyes distant and reply vague when you thanked him. Clearly he too was thinking hard. He began methodically snapping branches in half, breaking them down into a more manageable size while you continued to carefully stack the kindling. When you finally slipped a match in between the twigs and splinters, you were relieved by how quickly the flames caught. Sometimes it was a little touch and go!

"What's on the menu, sugar?" Heisenberg asked, opening the flap of his pack and then looking at you expectantly.

"Well, we've got the leftovers from last night's dinner." You had packed the two cardboard takeaway containers (with plastic cutlery, what luxuries!) into the outside of your pack to keep them cold, so you directed him to where they were. "We also have the last of the preserves, at least until we get home, and the bread."

"Save that for the morning, we can make toast." Karl reasoned and you nodded in agreement.

The two takeout containers were soon splayed open, Heisenberg offering you a bite of his cheese pie in exchange for one of the cabbage rolls you had saved. The two of you took turns warming your ramshackle dinner over the fire, Karl having fashioned a sort of long fork out of a section of metal from the top of the barrel in order to facilitate the process.

"Granted, I could just stick my hand into the fire, but I don't feel like healing third degree burns tonight." Karl waved his fingers well above the flames in a joking manner.

"Does anything actually hurt you?" You asked curiously, kicking yourself when his expression darkened immediately.

"Shit hurts me like it hurts everyone else." Heisenberg responded stiffly. "I've still got nerve endings. They're a little fried, but there."

"Sorry, I'm really putting my foot in my mouth tonight." You tried to apologize but he waved it off.

"You're allowed to be curious, sugar. If I didn't want to answer, I wouldn't."

"Yeah but I'm not owed information. I'm just nosy, I guess. Don't feel like you have to answer things just because I ask them." At that, you were pleased to see the tension in his shoulders ease somewhat. You wondered if he had felt like he had to answer you, even if it made him uncomfortable.

"Thanks," was his eventual reply, and the two of you lapsed into a companionable silence while you finished dinner.

…

Heisenberg woke to a fresh dusting of snow on the ground, your face buried in his chest and frost coating his eyebrows. He grumbled, rubbing the heel of his palm back and forth to dislodge the icy remains on his forehead. Drowsy eyes traveled to the two packs that he had hoisted high up into a nearby tree, the man relieved to see them still hanging unscathed. There were also no fresh tracks in the snow that he could see from his reclined position, another good sign.

It had been a quiet night, then. That was a relief. Karl had been concerned about a possible scuffle in the night, either with local wildlife or old friends, but it seemed his fears had been unfounded.

"Time to wake up, sugar." Karl murmured, rubbing your back. "Home tonight, if all goes well."

"Mhm," you hummed, pressing an absent kiss to the underside of his jaw before you rolled upright and stretched. A wide yawn quickly turned into violent shivering and you rushed to wrap yourself up in your sleeping bag. "Shit it's cold, damn." You grumbled, grabbing the ski suit you had tucked into the foot last night and wriggling the legs of it up over your base layer.

Karl, still a little confused from your kiss, just slid out of the lean-to after donning his boots. He almost welcomed the cold, it was bracing in a way. Grounding. Don't think about it.

"Bread should be in your pack, close to the top." You called when he moved to lower the two hanging bags from their lofty perch.

"Got it." Karl replied, slinging both packs over his shoulder so they didn't end up in the fresh powder on the ground. After setting the backpacks down in the lean-to, he quickly located the wrapped loaf of bread and handed it off to you, chuckling as you ripped the heel off the loaf and shoved it into your mouth. "Hungry this morning?"

You nodded, struggling to swallow momentarily. "It's tough, I feel like I'm always hungrier after other people's cooking." You admitted.

"Alright, well, let's get breakfast going before you eat the whole damn loaf." Don't think about it.

But gods, it was difficult. He coaxed the fire back to life and you toasted half the loaf in one go, your eyes so intent on the task it was nearly comical. Then came the last of the preserves you had brought, a little crystalline from being at the bottom of the jar but no less delicious. Karl got a little of the sticky substance in his mustache and you noticed it before he did, the man not realizing until you were wiping it clean with a soft laugh. "You always eat so fast! Nobody's going to take it from you, I promise."

Don't think about it, Karl reminded himself sternly on the trail later that day, finding his eyes wandering to your hips once more. Don't think about it, damn it all.

Things could be simple. He didn't need to ruin it by thinking about it, like he had done with everything else in his life. He could be happy like this, actually happy. So why the hell did he feel the need to think and subsequently shred his chances of existing peacefully?

You ruin everything you touch.

Heisenberg set his jaw tight enough to feel the ticking of his muscles. It felt too inevitable, too sinisterly obvious. He was going to do something to ruin this for himself. Maybe he already had set it in motion. He had put his hands on you, had touched you freely, and–

Don't think about it.

What more could he do, though? Without his title, without the want for his title, all he had now was worry, concern, and doubt. His closest friends throughout his life, crowding in once again to drown him with the ceaseless loop of regret. Not remorse, mind, Karl didn't believe remorse was a thing he could feel, but he could understand that he had done monstrous things and justified them in the name of taking down Miranda. Where his 'siblings' had treated their endeavors as the greater good, Heisenberg knew damn well that his goals were nothing so glamorous.

You ruin everything you touch.

His vision blurred and Heisenberg chose to stare at the ground for a very, very long time, focusing on his skis retreading the tracks from your own. Behind him the sled full of supplies continued to be pulled along, the runners carving deeper into the snow than either you or Karl's skis. While he was intent on this particular task the man made his most valiant effort yet to entirely turn his brain off and, to his relief, it seemed to work for a little while. No thinking about what he had done, no fear about what he might do. Just one foot in front of the other, over and over again until the two of you reached more familiar woodlands.

Home.

That jolted him out of his thoughtless respite, much to his dismay. It wasn't his home, his home was some mold-ridden hellpit and he knew that. No matter how far he strayed, no matter how much he tried to ignore or forget, that factory was his home. The village was his home, with its sullen gray skies and the taste of rust perpetually in his mouth.

You skied back to him, a smile on your face. Clearly you had noticed his flagging pace. "Almost home, Karl! Only a little further. You need a break? Snack?"

Home.

Karl gritted his teeth until they creaked under the pressure, uncertain if the taste of iron was from phantom rust or if he had just cracked a tooth. He forced himself to ease his posture, willed his jaw to loosen, and opened his mouth. "I'd like a snack, yeah. I'm starving." He confessed unexpectedly, the actual response he had intended to give being 'no let's just get this done'.

"You got it!" Slinging your pack around, you dug through until you seized another cardboard takeaway container. "From Rache, Marku's wife. She gave us some donuts. Or, wait no, they're called papanasi I think."

Papanasi. Karl's mind latched onto the familiar word just as hungrily as his hands latched onto the fried good. It returned something to him, in a strange way. A memory, or maybe a dream of a memory: someone handing a small, hungry child a warm treat.

Was he crying? Heisenberg cringed, trying to turn away so that you wouldn't see him wipe his eyes. He still flinched when you caught his arm but instead of berating him (or whatever the hell else he had been expecting), you simply used the end of your scarf to scrub at his cheek.

"There! You had a little smudge." You smiled at him and Karl managed to muster up a watery twitch of his lips in return, the man rushing to cram the rest of the treat into his mouth to save him from engaging in some form of conversation.

Home.

Part Nine

#karl heisenberg #lord karl heisenberg #eventual romance #fix it fic #au #resident evil #re 8 #re 8 village #resident evil village #resident evil karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg imagine #re 8 karl heisenberg #slow burn #MAX HELP ME I'M FEELING

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sunsafewriting · 1 year

Text

favourable conditions - chapter 4 (3.9k)

chapter excerpt:

Beatrice doesn’t sleep that night, but still, there are routines that can’t be broken.

She slips out of bed, dresses, and runs.

She runs too far and too fast to pretend it’s only exercise for the sake of conditioning. She runs until she can’t breathe, until the muscles in her left side cinch tight and burn, and still, she runs.

This time, she changes her route and heads for the beach, keeping the Governor’s manor safely out of view.

It doesn’t matter if Ava is awake. It doesn’t matter if there’s a light on. A candle isn’t a signal, only a flicker in the dark.

Beatrice knows that; she knows better .

And yet.

There is still the impulse to find Ava and demand something of her, to tug her close by both her hands, to hold her the way she has always held Beatrice, even without touching.

But there would be no use in any of it.

This was always going to happen.

(Beatrice remembers the first parade of suitors, when they were eighteen — remembers hearing about it second-hand from one of the other officers, and then sparring with Lilith until even Lilith’s usually inexhaustible fury was wrung out, and only Beatrice stood to go again.

“What has got into you?” Lilith demanded, with something almost like approval. Lilith, the only person to ever like Beatrice more after Beatrice split her lip.

And later, at the manor — Ava carrying on as she always had, barely waiting for Beatrice to take up her post in the foyer before abandoning her latest art project in favour of other pursuits. “I was informed by one of the guards that you speak Dahulean fluently.”

“Yes, Miss Silva.”

“I have been teaching myself. Perhaps you might permit me to practise with you?”

And then, in a lapse of restraint, unexpected and unstoppable, perhaps among the first things she ever said to Ava that she desperately desired to take back: “Wasn’t one of the young men here today from the Dahulea Isles? Surely he would’ve been the better candidate for this revision.”

Ava fixed Beatrice with a delighted smile. “Are you keeping track of my suitors, Officer?” she asked, twirling her paintbrush to tap Beatrice’s chest with the wooden end, and smearing a streak of blue over her own wrist.

“No, Miss Silva. One merely hears things.”

Untrue, and Ava might’ve known it, as she seemed to easily know all of Beatrice's secrets.

“Regrettably, as I had to inform my uncle, they were each exceedingly ill-fitting as matches, although many of them were quite lovely.”

“Your uncle heeds you on this matter?”

Something passed across Ava’s face, then — not anger, exactly, but not unlike it. “For now,” she said. And then the unease was gone, replaced by the kind of amusement that Beatrice feared and longed for in equal measure, that was invariably the prelude to head-swimming dizziness. “Have you forgotten my request?”

“No, Miss Silva. I will practise with you.”

It had not taken especially long for Beatrice to realise that the verbs Ava kept mixing up were very particular verbs with very particular meanings that did not, in fact, sound alike at all. Beatrice gently corrected her as often as she could, flushed and stammering herself, but Ava proved to have an inexhaustible number of mistakes ready to be made.)

#posting this early when no one is awake but me but w/e lmao #sorry for the insanely long wait but we are BACk in BUSINESS babey #sunsafewriting #ava x beatrice #avatrice #avatrice fic #avatrice fanfic

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selfdiagnosedeyemotif · 5 months

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THE ANSWER’S BEEN IN HIS PROFILE THE ENTIRE TIME IM GOING TO TUMBLE DOWN A STAIRCASE IN DRAMATIC FASHION

that didn’t stop me from choosing yujin before him tho. not sure what my brain was trying to get at with that one. I compared chin sizes between them and decided that was proof enough

my, my, it seems that you're awfully close to a rather key point in the case

#cue Prelude to Pursuit #and the void screameth back #beantothemax #mav dni #pie dni

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refixation · 10 months

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OK, I know I am delusional and fixated on the RE universe right now, but just listen for a second -

There's so much to say in just these two phrases alone that it makes my brain go haywire and I literally cannot form a coherent thought.

"A hundred will give their lives so that just one may live." A phrase that justifies the deaths of others for the sake of one, that the sacrifices are worth it, that they are needed, that the ends justify the means.

"You try to save one person; a hundred others die." A phrase that laments the death of others in the pursuit of saving one, of a cost too high to pay, of an unfair world, a world that Leon resents so deeply.

There's just so much to say here regarding individual character struggles, their wants and ideals, and their motifs. In particular, Ada's character; this is where it becomes so hard for me to word because I just simultaneously love/hate the subtlety to Ada's character. I love it because her internal struggles with morality are so deep, that it really takes effort to notice them, and it makes her dilemma just that much more relatable/believable. There's just so much unspoken depth, but I hate this subtlety because of how her actions -- something so much more to the fore-front of her character -- overshadow this conflict, and people are just so quick to discard her because of this.

Leon and his words are living rent free in Ada's head, and this near word for word parallel between his words and Wesker's definitely stuck out to her in the moment, especially when Leon's words were a prelude to the question he had for her in the boat scene, "Have you changed?" A question that was no doubt replaying in Ada's head when she made the choice to change the helicopter's course, and she even looks down at Leon in the sea afterwards, as if finally answering his question.

AND THEN WE GET INTO LEON'S CHARACTER, OF CHANGE, OF TRYING TO DO WHATS RIGHT IN A WORLD FULL OF WRONG, OF SELF-SACRIFICE AND HIS OWN INNER STRUGGLES AND AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA MY HEAD HURTS.

Anyways, thanks for coming to my Ted-talk. See you guys tomorrow, same place same time.

#resident evil 4 #ada wong #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil #aeon #i mean aeons not the main point here #but aeon #character study #rant post #albert wesker

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yamameta-inc · 5 months

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okay so. i've always thought it was obvious that yoshiwara in flames arc's main relevance to gintama's overall narrative is as the prelude to rakuyou. like it's not thematically very interesting on its own, right? but it exists mainly for kagura and kamui's sake, establishing the sort of parallelism that gintama lives off of. it isn't really that connected to the red spider arc even though at first it might seem to be.

but i had no idea about the meaning of the name "rakuyou" until i saw @suchira 's post about it earlier today. and before that i also hadn't thought about utsuro's connection to the sun, which they've also talked about.

given everything that happens in rakuyou, this has expanded my thoughts quite a bit! i'm going be thinking through this as i go, so this is going to be me rambling.

housen is one of the few big arc villains who don't feel related to gintoki. jirocho, jiraia, oboro, takasugi--these kinds are obviously meant to be foils to gintoki. isaburo functions differently as a character, but even he gets directly compared to gintoki by nobume. but housen isn't really there for gintoki--he's there for kamui. he isn't a particularly interesting character, nor is his death very satisfying because of the wishywashy writing about hinowa showing kindness to him at the end. previously i'd thought that his thing with the sun was just a weaker example of craving something that would destroy you, and/or running away from one's weaknesses and vulnerabilities to the point that you become a sort of husk.

that's probably still a thing, but the introduction of the sun motif on the much more meaning-dense end of gintama adds so much more. because now the pre-existing thematic framework of gintama can do the heavy lifting for housen (who is, again, a pretty uninteresting character), hinowa (who is cool, but suffers from both Woman and Mom in shounen), and tsukuyo (who is very cool, but suffers egregiously from Woman in shounen).

so what is housen, really? he's the guy kamui chose to go with when making his very bad life decisions, the end result of the path he decided to pursue. for simplicity let's call him kamui bad end, though they aren't very comparable in canon itself because housen doesn't come across as nearly self-destructive enough. but the basic logic is that housen is one of those characters who gave up everything in single-minded pursuit of power--he's a flat character because he already "emptied himself out", as kamui says, before the series started. (but then he got scared and lonely, and all that.)

what's funny is that if housen is a bad end, then the guy who he considers his rival automatically comes to mind as an opposed route. i think it would be a serious stretch to call umibouzu the "good end" for kamui, and that's definitely part of the point in how the yato are written. but in any case, kamui clearly looked both ways (insert roads leading to two castles meme) and saw housen stereotypical villain bad end on one side, and his dad on the other. so obviously he chose housen.

rakuyou is a planet where it's always overcast. you could say that kamui chose to leave that "safety" in order to pursue something that shone much brighter to him, even if it would disintegrate him in the end. or, since rakuyou's name invokes the sun, you could say that he chose to flee the place of his weakness and pain, where his family was, like housen deciding to flee the sun and build an underground paradise.

when i go over my gintama cast tarot assignments, i always hesitate over hinowa. is she the Sun? or the Empress? how can i choose? and i think this is essentially the same conundrum. and i think the fact that she's both (thankfully, actual gintama storytelling isn't restricted to 1 character = 1 arcana) also provides us with the best answer here. hinowa is the object of yearning of both housen (as the sun) and of seita (as a mother). obviously, as i said before, the whole seita-hinowa thing is meant to lay the groundwork for kamui's motivations, and is also why he's introduced in this arc in the particular way that he is. but kamui is both seita and housen. he's the child yearning for his mother, but also the warlord who fears the sun so much he'll lock not only himself but countless others into the dark forever. but housen also desperately longed for the sun. kamui looks down on seita for being weak, and he looks down on housen for choosing to drown himself in vices at the end of his life. in the end, he doesn't kill either one of them.

if the sun is what kamui yearns for, he wants to leave rainy "rakuyou" behind--and/or he misses his home, his childhood, his family, even if these things feel like they will destroy him. or, if the sun is what kamui seeks to avoid, he wants to turn away from "rakuyou", all the things that hold him down so that he can throw himself into single-minded pursuit of self-destruction--and/or he's afraid of the weakness and pain that the sun inflicts on him, and desires to be strong enough that he won't feel them. see, a whole lot of words to say the same thing over and over.

i've always assigned housen the Emperor arcana. and i've often wondered, should it be umibouzu instead? should it be utsuro? and that, i think, is another illumination. thank you tarot for being an icon. it's so effective here because gintama is predictably built on parallels, and overlapping arcana assignments are bound to make you think: why?

in the end, housen builds a city underground in order to avoid the sun, but he also severs hinowa's ankles so that he can hold her, the sun proxy, captive in his grasp. he can't bear to feel sunlight, but he can't bear to let it go either. kamui is much the same, but he's young--he thinks he can let it go, his fears and regrets haven't caught up to him yet, because he still has so much to reach for. housen attained the peak of his strength and notoriety, and then there was little left for him.

what else happens in rakuyou? well, oboro and takasugi fight. oboro is sort of a seita figure in his own right, if seita had burned down yoshiwara in hopes that it would drive hinowa running to him. of course, seita didn't know that hinowa couldn't run; and oboro didn't know that shouyou couldn't, either.

but aside from seita and housen, there's another character in yoshiwara who yearns for the sun--not to possess it, but to protect it, to serve it. tsukuyo is an interesting character heavily let down by the realities of living in shounen jump. from my own understanding of sorachi's character, i don't think the following was intentional on his part. but i do think there are real reasons why these parallels are textually present (mainly through gintoki).

tsukuyo is the closest oboro has in this series to someone similar to him. not in the sense of a reflection in the mirror or hole-sided adjacency, but as in someone who sort of has a similar job and background to him. or had, anyway. as i implied earlier, the few, specific, clearly intentional similarities she has with gintoki (hello red spider) bleed over into her similarities with oboro, of course, because gintoki and oboro are... you know. just look at them.

tsukuyo swore herself to hinowa, but technically she was working under housen. she led housen's paramilitary force--fortunately, the hyakka loved her a lot more than the naraku were probably ever able to have an opinion about oboro. i don't think tsukuyo and oboro would ever get along--but they did have the same job. oboro did it in the heavens, tsukuyo did it underground. anyway, hinowa "saved" tsukuyo by teaching her about fighting from inside one's cage, and so tsukuyo gladly walked into the cage, just like oboro returning to the naraku without shouyou. because they thought it would be worth it. and also because tsukuyo had been groomed from a young age for the Hole (apologies to those who haven't read my ouroboros essay), to give up on her selfhood, and also to kill her sensei (hello gintoki). but hinowa remained around, unlike shouyou. tsukuyo never thought she could really free her--but protecting her, being able to see her, was enough.

oboro's life problem is a bit like if hinowa and housen were the same person. but kamui would see in that pairing only a reflection of his parents. and also, kouka is a bit like if hinowa and utsuro were the same person. but utsuro is already like if shouyou and utsuro were the same person--because oboro's actual life problem is that shouyou and utsuro are the same person.

i've spoken a lot about tarot, but the moon in gintama has little to do with the Moon arcana. in gintama it's the backdrop, the symbol of promises--promises made, promises fulfilled, promises held on to dearly whether they can be fulfilled or not. i don't truly think that the sun as represented by hinowa interacts directly with this. but tsukuyo and oboro share moon-related names, and their promises (or rather, their vows of devotion) towards hinowa/shouyou are one-sided. one-sided promises aren't a problem in gintama--our silver-haired protagonist wouldn't be alive if it weren't for them.

if the naraku, if utsuro, if oboro under utsuro is associated with the sun through the yatagarasu, perhaps it's because of the evaporation of the promise through the eclipsing of the moon. shouka sonjuku, after all, burned down, and utsuro emerged from a pyre. and though i think that the sun is overall a motif much more strongly associated with the yato--that which they avoid, are weak to, and secretly long for--i don't think that's incompatible with the crow-meaning.

rabbits can die of loneliness, you know--or they can die from overheating in the sun. i think the question here is, is this a trick question? are those two the same thing?

#i love starting a post with no idea of what my conclusions will be. thoughts can only be sharpened through writing #gintama #kamui #tsukuyo #oboro

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bimboficationblues · 6 months

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One Piece in Review, Part 2: Into the Grand Line (Ch. 42-100)

Welcome back to my One Piece reread review. In this part, we'll be covering the rest of the East Blue saga: Baratie [ch. 42-68], Arlong Park [ch. 69-95], and Loguetown [ch. 96-100]. Previous parts can be found here: Part 1 [1-41].

A number of major shifts happen in this segment of the story and it's for this reason that I think it's one of my favorite parts. At the conclusion of Syrup Village, our protagonists graduated from unnamed, utilitarian ships to their own caravel, the Going Merry, which allows them to be intentional about where they're heading. They also adopt a symbol, the skull and crossbones topped with Luffy's signature straw hat, which foretells how they'll eventually be dubbed the Straw Hat Pirates.

The creation of a flag and the addition of a ship with personality means that they now genuinely have something like a group identity, which is going to be tested quickly. And the increased size of the ship corresponds to the scope of the conflicts and world they're going to be involved in from here on out. As such, I think this segment of the story is a marked improvement along the dimensions of conflict, characterization, and scope. The main thrust of this story segment is getting the crew ready to enter the next phase of their journey - the Grand Line.

Villains/Conflicts:

Starting with the Baratie arc, the pattern established in the first three arcs - go to a new locale, confront a local villain while pursuing specific goals, recruit a new member - starts getting shaken up in unique ways or shifts away from that formula. For instance, after adding the ship's cook Sanji, the group's membership will not increase for about 80 chapters. In general, recruitment will become a lot more sparse throughout the remainder of the series, solidifying a central cast for the time being.

Also in Baratie we find a slightly more complex struggle at work. The main villain, Don Krieg, is in the unfortunate position of being sandwiched between two of the stronger early villains of One Piece, Captain Kuro and Arlong. He's something of a redundant character, repeating both Morgan and Kuro's respective traits of "belief in rank as strength" and "utilizing deception and underhanded tactics to advance his goals." He does have some good foil aspects, inverting Zoro's willingness to recognize a loss as such and Sanji's fundamental gratitude for what others have done for him. But what Krieg really does is give us 1) a rival in pursuit of the One Piece, and 2) an insight into the terrors of the Grand Line, explaining that he lost nearly his entire massive crew and fifty ships within one week there. It's a good way of setting the stakes in anticipation of finally making the voyage into this now repeatedly-teased part of the world.

In the prelude to the typical showdown between Luffy and Krieg, the figure of Dracule Mihawk comes in to basically disrupt the whole formula and tell everyone that these little backwater spats in the East Blue are not going to last, and we're not even *close* to the ceiling of how far things can escalate. Mihawk, while an antagonist, also isn't quite a villain: he basically shows up to fuck with the Krieg pirates like Bugs Bunny tormenting the opera singer, and only gets into a conflict with the Straw Hats when Zoro does something extremely, extremely dumb prideful. This is also kind of an upset, since it sees Zoro making a stab (ha) at his dream at a surprisingly early point. But the gulf between where the crew is at now, and where they need to end up, ends up being demonstrably enormous.

Though Krieg is a middling villain, the combined threat of him and Mihawk gives the Baratie arc its central thesis: willpower as its own kind of might. Luffy's battle against Krieg demonstrates how far willpower can take you, while Zoro's fight with Mihawk demonstrates that it's not sufficient without the force to substantively back it up. It also contrasts Zoro quite directly with Krieg, in that the latter persistently refuses to recognize when he's lost, while the former accepts defeat and (when given the opportunity to do so) learns from it, a lesson that will be necessary for taking the Grand Line seriously.

The titular antagonist of the next arc, Arlong, on the other hand, is an all-time great One Piece villain both for his place in the story now, and the long-term implications of his character as the story unfolds. The central conflicts of Arlong Park are about money, trust, and race. That last is probably the least substantively interesting right now, but becomes really fascinating later on. Arlong presents himself and his crew as "the master race," but in reality they come from a population that is socially subjected. But at this juncture of the story, we have a straightforward story about tributary exploitation. The sheer brutality of how Arlong treats the local humans he's extorting is unrivaled by anything prior to this, leaving lasting physical and psychological scars on the people. Since Arlong and his crew are explicitly presented as being products of the Grand Line, it really adds to the menace of that place.

Structurally, Arlong Park is also one of the most interesting of the early One Piece arcs, essentially split into two halves. The first is figuring out what's going on with Nami, why she's acting hostile to the others and why she's seemingly allied herself with Arlong, and reuniting the crew after a separation. This segment finds the group wheeling and dealing and clawing their way out of trouble, narrowly evading destruction by Arlong, as Nami in turn tries to push them away protectively while still preserving her plan and goals. After Nami's backstory is revealed, the story shifts into a more intense, battle-packed segment, with each Straw Hat confronting their own opponent for the first time, except for Nami, who stands alongside her community in support. They all work as a unit to overcome their opponents, learning more about how they interact and rely on each other. It has some of the genuinely most exciting and emotionally impactful storytelling in shonen manga that I've ever read.

The final arc of the East Blue saga, Loguetown, is one of many transitional arcs in the series (along with later arcs like Jaya, Long Ring Long Land, Amazon Lily, Zou, and the two "Post-" epilogue arcs). While these transitional arcs usually have their own conflicts, they are largely playing setup for upcoming ones. Loguetown is no exception, but it's the briefest of the bunch. A few key points:

Luffy gets his first bounty, 30 million beri. This is a big deal - while a lot of One Piece fans treat bounties like they represent power levels, they actually represent a social relationship between a pirate (or just an enemy of the government in general) and the World Government. With Luffy's bounty exceeding all of those he defeated so far in the East Blue, it illustrates that he's considered a substantive, if not huge, threat, and a sociopolitical indicator that he is ready for the Grand Line.

We get to see the place where the Pirate King died, but not only that, where he inaugurated a new historical epoch. This ties in heavily to another constant theme of One Piece, the idea of an inherited will: Luffy is nearly executed, and behaves in the exact same way that Gold Roger did when he was about to be executed. Visiting this place right before entering the next part of the sea suggests that Luffy is kind of picking up the spirit of Roger and starting his own legend from here on out.

We get the introduction of Captain Smoker, who is the first Marine in the series that isn't either a total bastard or a total incompetent, but remains an antagonistic force to the Straw Hats. This is used to plant the seed of different ideologies and conflict within the Marines as an institution. Smoker will be in pursuit of the Straw Hats throughout the next saga.

We get essentially the first taste of the Grand Line and what it's like: lots of Devil Fruit powers, new and strange technology, strong marine and pirate presence, major challenges, and the hint of deeper intrigue with the arrival of Dragon, who rescues Luffy from Smoker.

It's also in this series of arcs that I think we actually start to see Luffy and the crew meaningfully get challenged in terms of strength and ability. In previous situations, it was only contrivance or mistakes that got Luffy and the crew into trouble. But Krieg, while a blowhard, is definitely still a threat, whose unpredictability presents a serious challenge to Luffy (as does the environment in which they fight, as this is the first time we really get to see Luffy at risk from the tradeoff of the Devil Fruit). Arlong and his fishmen are the biggest threat that the whole crew has confronted so far, shown to be capable of upending entire villages. As fishmen, and former subordinates of a famous Grand Line pirate, they're also specifically denoted as products of the Grand Line, so confronting and successfully defeating them is an illustration of the fact that the Straw Hats are, at last, ready to enter that segment of the sea. And of course, Smoker and Mihawk outclass all of them easily for now, reminders that there is a long way to go.

Characterization:

Because of the increasing intensity and danger of the conflicts here, we get a lot more opportunities in this segment to see the Straw Hats develop and grow. In the first three arcs that I covered in the last post, the Straw Hats are visibly forming connections with each other; for instance, you can see it in the relaxed poses that Luffy and Usopp have around each other or the way the whole group drinks together. But it's only after the events of Baratie and especially Arlong Park that they begin to cohere as a group, rather than a bunch of individuals with their own self-interested goals that point in approximately the same direction. (I say "begin" because this is, as ever, a long game.)

Small or quiet character moments that were scattered throughout the previous three arcs start paying off, most notably for Nami in Arlong Park, but also for Luffy, Zoro, and Usopp. So, let's take them one by one (minus Zoro - I think I've exhausted what I have to say about him for the moment in the section on Mihawk above).

Usopp: Usopp doesn't get a lot to do in Baratie, mostly cowering on the sidelines with some minor character work, but in Arlong Park he basically has a miniature character arc which, in turn, sets up his long-term character arc. At its start, he's on some of his worst behavior, ditching Zoro potentially to die; while he has his heroic moments trying to protect Nojiko and Genzo from the Arlong crew's wrath, he repeatedly demonstrates having a somewhat blinkered view of the world, ranging from both the small (snide remarks about tattoos) to the big (his quickness to write Nami off and tendency to act rashly). It reveals a character that is struggling to understand his place in the world and the crew. At his lowest moment, when he's faked a death so that the Fishman Pirate he's fighting will leave him alone, he starts comparing himself to his crewmates, and their determination and willingness to put themselves on the line for each other.

At its conclusion, we finally get to see him stand on his own two feet (literally, since Zoro had to carry him during Syrup Village) in order to defeat a powerful opponent. We also really get to see him as a fighter, which is essentially a kind of guerilla-style, improvisational, hit-and-run approach, making him stand out within the crew's battle dynamics.

Luffy: I think Luffy sometimes gets regarded as a static or at least simplistic character, especially since what his Damage is doesn't get fully exposed until right before the timeskip. But what Luffy is going through in the first half of the series is the process of learning what it is to be a captain, and how to apply his philosophy of life to the process of leadership. This is illustrated by how he is contrasted against the various captains of other crews throughout the East Blue.

At the core of Luffy's character is an ideal of freedom. When Luffy inspires other people through his convictions and dedication to his dream of becoming Pirate King, there's certainly a typical shonen "power of friendship" vibe to it, fitting for the Romantic idealism (centered around willpower and emotions) that governs the logic of One Piece. But I think it's worth noting that Luffy usually removes obstacles in people's paths towards realizing the things they care about, rather than trying to impose his beliefs and choices onto them, or directly "liberate" them. One of the first things he did on his journey is liberate Coby, an enslaved child - not by first defeating his master, but by inspiring him to overcome the mental barriers that were preventing him from pursuing his goals. Free your mind and your ass will follow.

It's a recurrent element that Luffy basically does not give a shit about his friends' personal histories, and those histories are almost always presented through extended memory sequences (basically the character's internal thoughts) rather than literal explanations to other characters. Even in the rare instance where that isn't the case, like when Nojiko explains her sister Nami's personal history to Sanji, Usopp, and an unconscious Zoro, Luffy deliberately opts out. That's in part because, although *readers* need that information to give context and pathos to the characters, Luffy really doesn't. Luffy wants his friends to be able to live as they desire and that means moving forward, not back; the past, at a certain point, becomes another obstacle to pursuing one's dreams.

All four of the other main characters get inspired by the way Luffy acts and comports himself towards them in some way during this section of the story.

He disallows interference in Zoro's duel with Mihawk, but puts himself on the line after Zoro loses, demonstrating that he doesn't *just* care about his own dream but also Zoro's. This is where Zoro's loyalty to Luffy really cements, in his proclamation that he will never lose again and that Luffy is going to be the Pirate King.

He inspires Sanji to pursue his dreams by showing what it looks like to live life without regrets and to consistently put yourself on the line for your convictions, something Sanji is already familiar with but hesitant to fully embrace - and shows that sometimes causes seem more impossible than they actually are.

When Nami is at her lowest, darkest point, Luffy remains steadfast, even as she screams at him and tries to drive him away - and when, in a moment of peak vulnerability, she asks for his help and puts her trust in him out of desperation, he recognizes the pain she's been through and how hard it is for her to do so. In turn he gives her his hat to show that the relationship of trust is mutual: they can depend on each other, it is not weakness or a guaranteed loss of security.

But also, Luffy is learning from them, in a way. He's learning how to be their leader.

Nami: It's only in Arlong Park that we start to understand exactly what kind of strain Nami is under, but there have been hints leading up to it. I mean, look at this face:

Those are the eyes of a tired woman.

Nami's whole life has been governed by money. As a child she didn't have enough of it, it was simultaneously a source of strain on her relationship with her sister and mother and an aspiration to make her dream of mapping the world possible. Then, upon the arrival of Arlong, money is the thing that tears their family apart: Bellemere doesn't have enough to pay tribute for herself and her daughters, so she makes a calculated maternal sacrifice to preserve their well-being. This was an unqualifiedly kind thing to do, but the tragic irony is that in doing so, Nami was opened up to abuse and enslavement by Arlong, who makes use of her natural talents at map-making and sets her a "task": if she can gather 100 million beri for him, she can free herself and her village.

Nami learns a variety of lessons from this course of events. Her money-lust is one - because money, in her mind, offers a guarantee of safety and security, that the things you really value won't be taken away from you. But the others are: relying on people you love will only get them killed, and if you just persist, if you just maintain the will to keep going and survive, eventually you will be free. The combination of these lessons lead her to repeatedly reject the Straw Hats from helping her or letting them into her burden. Nami believes in her own, constant self-sacrifice. While the substantive conflict of Arlong Park is about defeating the evil pirate lording over innocent villagers, the thematic and structural conflict is for Nami to learn that she doesn't have to hold onto these beliefs.

There are some complaints that circulate about how Nami doesn't take an active role in the final fight. Given Oda's inconsistent habit of sidelining female characters from the action (and it is inconsistent), I understand the concern. But I actually really like this choice in this case. Because Nami has been fighting. For eight years she has scraped her way towards freedom, getting shot and risking imprisonment or death and serving someone who could and would crush her sister's skull on a whim if he wanted to. She banked everything on a plan that gave her a semblance of control, that wouldn't require her to ask for help because doing so would just get people she cares about killed. And when it turns out that the plan can be disrupted by corruption and half-truths, she breaks. Her footing has been pulled out from underneath her, so now she has to take a leap of faith, and put her trust in others.

At the end of it all, she has a scar from where Arlong's tattoo was on her. Arlong influenced her deeply, for good and ill, and it's impossible to let go of that history entirely. But in the process she forges a new tattoo: a pinwheel and a tangerine, symbols of her mother and her community leader/father figure, a representation of how she's forging a new path for herself.

Sanji: Then there's the new introduction, the crew's cook. Sanji is a character that inspires a lot of mixed feelings in people. We will definitely get to the problems he presents down the line, but at this point in the story, I think Sanji is actually my second-favorite character in the crew after Nami. Like the rest of the crew, he has some notable vices, namely a tendency towards womanizing and "lovesickness" (which will get boiled down for jokes into 'perversion' as the series goes on, frustratingly) and a uniquely hot head even compared to Luffy and Nami. At the same time he's capable of tremendous compassion, effortlessly witty and suave (at least when he's not distracted), and demonstrates great tactical intelligence, like when he deduces the fish-man Kuroobi's weakness in the middle of a literally high-pressure scenario.

But as with many of the core cast's virtues and vices, they are rooted in personal histories. Sanji owes his life to his father figure Zeff, despite a contentious relationship. This theme of gratitude is central to Baratie: Sanji feeds a starving subordinate of Krieg's, and then Krieg himself, even despite knowing that it's a bad idea. Because Sanji knows intimately what it's like to be hungry. The subordinate, Gin, is tremendously grateful, while Krieg behaves like a total ingrate, making him a foil to both character. While Sanji's gratitude to Zeff is a defining feature of his character that we slowly get to see unpacked throughout the arc, his gratitude is shown to not be taking on a healthy expression, keeping him stuck in a small pond when he could be out there pursuing the All Blue (a mythical ocean with fish from all over the world). Gratitude doesn't mean dying for somebody, but living for them.

We also get a sense of the unfortunate gendered emotional repression that Sanji's experienced, and though I'm not totally sure the author would agree with my assessment, it's clear that Sanji's relationship with Zeff is based on passive-aggression, each trying to get the other to cooperate with what they *think* the other wants without being forthright. Zeff is deliberately trying to strain their relationship so that Sanji will pursue his dreams. Sanji feels such a mix of survivor's guilt and loyalty to Zeff, along with fear that his dream is itself foolish or doomed to failure, that he doesn't dare pursue his goals, and as such gets incensed by Zeff's backhanded attempts to push him out of the nest, taking it as a dismissal of his skills. At this juncture of the story, this is easy to read as a little like "real men don't cry or talk," but what's notable is that in the end of the Baratie arc, Sanji pushes past all that crap, just for a moment, in a genuine moment of emotional honesty. But this central emotional issue is still something that will stick with him, and comes up post-timeskip during the Whole Cake Island arc.

Part of the reason I'm spending a lot of time talking about Sanji is that Baratie, and then Arlong Park, are the first arcs where the whole shape of the conflict really centers around a dilemma that one of the main characters is facing; Zoro and Nami's introductory arcs are a little sparse and utilitarian, and Usopp's emotional conflict at Syrup Village was similar but less actively tied into the ongoing conflict. Sanji has lofty aspirations, but he's selfless and loaded with a lot of complicated emotions that hold him back from pursuing them. So seeing Zoro and Luffy put themselves on the line both for his home, AND for their own selfish aspirations, is a big deal.

So, that's the Straw Hats' arcs, for the most part. What I think is core is that each of them is in the process of recognizing things about themselves and learning to be part of a team, how they fit into a "crew."

Additionally, it's in these three arcs that we start seeing increased characterization for secondary and tertiary characters as well as secondary antagonists. There's not a lot to hold onto when you look back at a lot of the minor allies and enemies of previous arcs. Compare them to how much ongoing attention and characterization Patty, Gin, Zeff, Nojiko, Genzo, Hatchan, and Bellemere get, as well as how actively present in the action they are. This goes a long way towards making the world feel more alive and also gives the conflicts more weight: we care what happens to the Baratie or to Arlong Park, much more than unnamed villagers. Oda's character writing is definitely improving.

Unfortunately it's in this expanded focus that we see what is, in my view, a key weakness of One Piece: sometimes it outgrows characters in a way that leaves the story feeling a little uneven or bloated. Tashigi is the worst example of this, in my view, as she and Smoker get a huge amount of attention in Loguetown and Alabasta, only to sort of peter out as the Straw Hats grow past the need for Marines hunting them down. That might not remain the case forever - I suspect and hope that Smoker and Tashigi get a good role to play in the final saga - but it's hard to say.

Setting and Scope:

As I mentioned, the introduction of a ship marks a profound change in the way that One Piece works. By giving the crew a means of travel that is sturdier and more reliable than the impromptu vessels they've been relying on so far, they now have something like a "home" as well as a means to make more deliberate decisions about their next destinations.

The world starts to take on a greater shape in some major ways, and most of them are directed towards sparking further intrigue about the Grand Line and establishing it as a credibly wondrous but dangerous place. For example, the existence of non-human species such as fishmen is introduced during Arlong Park, a story element that will have huge ramifications down the line. As another example, we get some more information about Devil Fruits and how they work, most notably by introducing the concept of different Devil Fruit "types." These are later elaborated on as Zoan (animal transformations), Logia (elemental bodies), and Paramecia (kind of a grab bag). We also get Krieg's observation that the Grand Line is practically lousy with Devil Fruit users, which bears out once the Straw Hats encounter Smoker, a now empowered and redesigned Alvida, and Buggy all in the same spot just outside of the Grand Line.

We also learn, by way of Mihawk, about the "Seven Warlords of the Sea" (who going forward I will alternately refer to as the Seven Warlords or the Shichibukai). Again, this shows how outclassed the Straw Hats are by the grander scope of their world, but what it also does is lay down the groundwork for one of the series' central conflicts, and I'd argue its most important: the corrupt and authoritarian World Government.

There's also, notably, a mention of "Three Powers" that control the Grand Line, and what the third one is will go unexplained until almost three hundred chapters later! I noted in the previous post that Oda, unlike someone like Akira Toriyama or Hirohiko Araki, doesn't write by the seat of his pants as much. This was maybe being charitable: instead what I'd say is that Oda rarely cheats. When Oda is backfilling or retroactively adding something, it rarely feels out of place, he usually leaves his mysteries and vague worldbuilding details open to enough interpretation that future explanations maintain their plausibility. This has a dual effect: it adds more fantastical details to the world, fitting as the crew gets closer to the super-fantastical Grand Line, but it also drives home how underprepared the crew is for some of the dangers they're going to encounter.

Another, smaller way that the world starts expanding in scope is the introduction of the "cover stories," many of which anime fans will miss out on. These are used not just to add fun details but to meaningfully flesh out later plot points. We get one story which documents the aftermath of Buggy's defeat which sets up his and Alvida's presence in Loguetown, and another about Coby's early days in the Marines that foreshadows important characters and points towards major growth for him.

The locations also take a step up from the somewhat dull environs of Shells Town and Syrup Village (I'm kind of an Orange Town defender now). The Baratie, for instance, is a delightfully charming setting that is fun to experience both when it's working as normal and when it turns into a combat zone. Arlong Park has a distinct geography and unique setting details like paddy fields, pools, and a Sea King that really make it feel dynamic and lived-in in a way that Syrup Village simply doesn't. Also, I believe it's the first time that Oda starts doing little maps as the characters plan out their next moves, which really helps ground the action and give an idea of how the setting works.

So, overall, this is actually one of my favorite segments of the early story. I think it clears away some of the growing pains of the early chapters, and shows that other aspects weren't in fact growing pains at all. It also introduces just an absolute mountain of motifs, characterization points, and setting details. This second half of East Blue is an excellent demonstration of the two things that Oda frequently excels at: an epic adventure full of fantastical things and places, and slow-burn character development for an ensemble cast. Additionally, the Romantic themes have started to lock into place: the ability to reshape the world through strength of will and commitment to one's convictions. Finally, I think Oda's artwork is steadily improving, though his extremities still need work.

I really like the take that these first 100 chapters form a sort of "prologue" for the series as a whole, since Chapter 100 is called "The Legend Begins," has a very explicit thesis statement, and ends with the crew reaffirming their individual dreams as a collective ritual before they enter the Grand Line.

In terms of the evaluation of each section: Baratie is a solid arc with a couple of things I could nitpick, but it's really carried by how different it feels from what's come before and the strength of Sanji's character arc within it. Arlong Park is one of the most emotionally moving in the whole series, and unquestionably has the best action of the East Blue. Finally, Loguetown is a thrilling cap-off to the first "part" as the series transitions into the next phase of the story: the Baroque Works Conspiracy.

Whew. This was a doozy to write, and to some extent it's possible I would have been better served dividing these arcs up to focus on them each in more detail...but here we are!

#op reread

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