#“but if this is what you want why speak of right and wrong? you still go in for the kill”

[magicalpuppet]

"Are you new here? I’m new too." What if the one she met wasn't Frank at all?

If somebody is interested in the madness “theory”, I'll put it right under here.

Keep in mind before continuing: this is straight up just a theory/headcanon, I'm gonna share it without any other purpose than having fun theorizing. I put some points you can follow, I am sorry this is gonna be long and crazy.

So, I believe the puppet Julie met could be...Wally.

This whole madness was caused by Julie's story in the video "regard forgetfulness silence"...

The memory The way Julie is speaking seems off to me, as well as the way she recounts her first meeting with Frank.

She "think" that's how she met him, isn't it strange she can't recall precisely how she met the dearest puppet to her?

We know Julie have difficulties with her memory, but she seems to remember stuff that happened when hanging out with Frank, why the most important moment is so unclear to her?

This could mean that she can't remember the interaction correctly and that her memories are being heavily corrupted by something or that the whole thing is made up by someone.

The encounter

Even the encounter is iffy, the puppet she met doesn't seems to speak like Frank Does.

"Are you new here? I'm new too. My name is Frank"

This speech pattern sound more similar to Wally to me.

And after that, she says that he made a corny joke and she laughed at it, we know that Frank is not really the one who tells jokes. Heck, he is not even good at telling them.

You could argue about Wally and jokes too, he's not very skilled at telling them after all, but I can imagine two scenarios: -Him speaking normally and not realizing he is saying something funny to her. (this could apply to Frank too)

-His best friend love to tell jokes and we know that Barnaby encourage Wally to chat and tell jokes to the Neighbors, it could be that noticing she was scared he tried to tell a joke to her.

The fruit basket

Okay now I am really looking into stuff, I know, but why would Frank bring a big fruit basket around? Julie says it's because he was going to say hi to her but we know the friendliest neighbor in the whole place is Wally itself. Wouldn't it make more sense for him to be the one going to say hi?

The fruit basket could also just be related to Wally going out into the woods to paint a still life since he is a painter.

“Was he mad?”

She was worried that "Frank" was mad at her when they met.

Strange, because Frank emotions are very easy to read, he's a very expressive puppet. We also know that when he feel a very strong emotion (like being mad) his head spins. Why she would question it? If it was Wally, his emotions are more difficult to read and it could be that she didn't understood his intentions immediately.

Wally itself

The fact she bring up Wally while recalling Frank's meeting is strange too. She says she met Wally the same day, why not meeting the whole neighborhood then? Maybe it was just them at the beginning and it would make sense in that case.

But Wally comes up at the end of the audio asking "Did all that really happen, Julie?" like he is asking her like all of that was made up or straight up incorrect.

Aaand I'm done! I'm not even sure any of this makes sense to anyone else, but it was stuck with me since the update and I wanted to draw it and share it.

Maybe it was Frank, maybe it was really Wally, maybe it never happened in the first place but... Everything sound too strange to be as the story says.

And don't get me wrong with all of this! I love Frank and Julie relationship a lot, I am not going against them in any way. I like to go deep inside the stories I am following and I speculate a lot about stuff! (Also I wanna apologize if my english is not the best, it's not my first language)

[dantes-jacket]

Let’s not waste any more time

Dante x fem reader

Author notes: request #11!! Your ex bf cheated on you and kicked you out. Dante takes you in and a month after staying with him you two have a passionate night. Will everything be okay in the morning? SMUT!! Don’t interact if you’re a minor. Fluff and angst. This is long and I was too lazy to check it over, so if there’s some grammar problems no there isn’t…

You’re heading back to yours and boyfriend’s shared apartment after a long day of work at Devil May Cry. Your boss ended up trashing the place while he was “training”, so long story short goofing off with a new weapon he got and underestimated the damage he’d cause. Today just ended up as a clean up day and reorganizing. You were the one mostly organizing everything while Dante cleaned.

Today though you dressed up really nice because it was your one year anniversary with your boyfriend Jeffery. You two were going to go on a fancy date once you got off of work so you decided to get yourself in the mood earlier. As soon as you got to work Dante let out a long whistle, “Damn babe, you look great. What’s with the fancy clothes though? Wait is there meeting I don’t know about?”

You shake your head, “No there’s no meeting today. But thank you, I’m dressed up today because it’s my one year anniversary with Jeffery.”

“I see,��� Dante just nods. He wonders why you’re still with that dick. He’s done nothing but mock you and hurt you your entire relationship but you’re still staying with him. Just break up with him already so he can ask you out and treat you right. “I hope he knows he’s a lucky guy to have a showstopper like you as a girlfriend.” He then spins around and goes into a back room.

The compliments he gave you fills you with butterflies. You showed your boyfriend your outfit before he left and he didn’t even acknowledge it or compliment you. But Dante never hesitates to compliment you or speak his mind. He always notices when you have something new or you changed your style. He’s always on top of it. You know it’s wrong to harbor feelings for someone else while you’re in a relationship but you just can’t help it. Dante is every you want in a relationship.

Although he’s never been one to pursue relationships so that’s why you gave up trying to get his attention. That’s when a friend set you up with Jeffery and now you’re here. You always wonder what it would be like if you never stopped and Dante was interested in relationships. Would you two have gotten together or would he have already been in a relationship? You don’t know but you can’t focus on the little details.

The thoughts running through your head are bitter while you walk back home. Is your boyfriend even going to appreciate tonight? You give him the benefit of the doubt and try to get your thoughts off of your incredible hot, smart, caring, strong, silly, and loving boss. You ride the elevator up to your floor and walk to your apartment. You unlock the door and go to call out for your boyfriend but you hear a weird noise coming from the bedroom.

You go to put your stuff down on the table near the door but you see some bags filled with something. Ignoring those for now you head to your bedroom. The door is cracked and the closer you get to it, you can hear it. Moans. Ones that belong to your boyfriend and another girl. You push the door open and see it now. Your boyfriend doing the neighbor.

“Jeffery?”

The man in question doesn’t even bother to look at you or stop what he’s doing. “Your stuff is by the door, get out. I found a better girl worth my time.” You see your neighbor smile slyly at you and moan extra loud next thrust just to spite you. You know it’s fake because this man is bad in bed. Bad probably isn’t even the right word but you’re so shocked you can’t even try to think of a better insult.

You back out of the room and go right back to the front door and grab your things. As quickly as you can you get outside and stand in front of your apartment building, or well now your old apartment building. You step out of the doors to be greeted by a downpour. Great your first night homeless you’re going to get drenched! The cards of fate are truly against you today.

But you can’t stay here. This whole thing just pisses you off. The longer you’re here for, the more you want to go back upstairs and yell at him. Tell him he didn’t mean anything and say you have a much better man than him in your life. Before you realize you walked all the way back to where than better man is. You look up and see the bright sign lighting up most of the ground and emphasizing the rain. You shuffle your bags to one hand to knock on the door.

You hear a low groan before heavy footsteps coming this way. Before the door opens you can hear Dante saying “We aren’t open come back tomorrow-“ before opening the door to see you standing there. You two just stand there for a moment breathing heavily while staring at one another. “Hey- shit you’re crying and drenched. What the hell happened!?”

Crying? You didn’t even realize. You know they are sad tears they are frustrated ones. You open your mouth to respond but immediately close it. How can you ask him to help you? That seems unfair. He has so much on his plate and you’d take his home and free time away from him. Never mind you’ll just leave.

“Sorry just never mind.” You spin on your heel and try to walk down the steps but stopped by an arm on your hand dragging you inside.

“No you don’t. You’re going to get out of the rain and come inside. Then you’re going to tell me what the hell happened within the last two hours since I’ve seen you.”

Dante shuts the door behind you and rushes off to the bathroom to get you a towel. While he grabs a towel he tries to process what is going on. You were just excited to go on your anniversary date but now you’re here with bags in hand and soaked while crying? Oh man if he ever sees that clown of a man you call a boyfriend he’ll be six feet underground buried to next to all the demons. Snapping out of his thoughts he rushes back to you.

He sees you shivering and standing like you don’t know this place. He walks over and hands you the towel and then pulls off your jacket and throws it on the floor.

“Okay give me a brief summary before I have you go and shower to warm up.”

“He was sleeping with someone else,” you murmur so quietly and if he didn’t have enhanced hearing he definitely wouldn’t have caught what you said.

Dante sees red he clenches his jaw, “He what?” He says in a low threatening tone, “I’m going to kill him.” He side steps you and puts a hand on the door handle but you gently place yours on top of his.

“Don’t he’s not worth your time.”

“I don’t care-“

“Plus I want you here…” you admit quietly.

He suddenly pulls back his hand like the door handle had just shocked him. “I’m right here and not going anywhere. Go ahead and showering and I’ll put your things in my room.”

“Dante I can’t take your room, I can just go stay in a hotel-“

“No absolutely not. You’re staying here until you find a place. Now go shower before you get sick.”

You relent to his demand and head off to the bathroom. You do grab one bag and just hope it has your toiletries and at least an outfit to sleep in. You start the shower and strip out of your wet clothes. You look at yourself in the mirror and see your tear stained face with your makeup smudged. You look like a mess and you showed Dante that. You’re never going to be able to live this down. How are you going to show yourself to him now after this?

Luckily you chose right with your bag and was able to take a nice and refreshing shower. You scrub your skin hard to get the memory of that assholes touch off. You want him to be purged from your memory. Maybe you ask Dante if he knows a demon that can take that memory from you. Knowing him though he’d freak at your question and lecture you on why you should not seek a demon out.

He’s already acting different since you got here. He probably just feels bad and doesn’t have any other reason behind it. Or maybe he does? You’ve never seen him so mad even when demon knock on his front door and ruin his place. His eyes glowed with an anger you’ve never seen before. Maybe he did actually have other intentions. Wait… could he like you back???

A knock at the door disrupts your overthinking. “Hey you okay in there?”

“Oh um yeah! I’m almost done.” You stutter out and turn off the shower. You quickly dry yourself off and throw on some pajamas. Your pajamas are short shorts and a tiny tank top. Oh god, how are you suppose to walk around like this in front of him in his own house!?!

You open the door and give him a sleepy smile. He smiles back but eyes widen once he gets a glimpse of what you are wearing. He tries to get his mind off of it because he feels his dick twitch and harden. He clears his throat, “Uh I changed the sheets on my bed so it’s all good for you.”

“Oh thank you! You didn’t have to, I already feel bad for intruding.” You comment while avoiding eye contact with him.

Dante gently places his hand on your cheek and makes you look back at him, “You’re not intruding. I want to help.”

“Thank you.”

“Let’s get you to bed okay?” You just nod and follow him. He points out where he left your stuff and says feel free to take your time in the morning. He bids you a goodnight and heads back downstairs.

You lay down in his bed and instantly hit with warmth and his scent. You know he changed the sheets but they still smell so much like him. The spot you’re laying on is pretty warm which means he was probably laying in bed when you got here. Your heart pangs feeling bad you not only disrupted his peaceful night but that you made him give up his bed. You know he told you not to worry but it still weighs on your conscious. You decide that you’ve done enough thinking and close your eyes. It’s not long after until you fall asleep.

•

You and Dante fell into a nice routine over this past month while you stay at his place. The work has gone smoother than it ever has. You basically hold down the fort while Dante is out on missions. Or when he’s here your communication has gotten a lot clearer. You wouldn’t change this for the world.

You two have also gotten a lot closer this past month. You two will go out to the diner or make home cooked meals together. You’ll also watch movies, play board games or his dancing game or just sit on the couch and gossip all about some of the people that come to the shop.

Tonight you’re here by yourself. Dante won’t get home till later and you don’t know what to do. On nights like these it seems like the day drags on and on. It really rubs it in your face that he isn’t here. You sit on the couch debating what to do.

The door then opens and the smell of pizza hits your nose. Ah he finished his mission early. You turn to see the man smiling and eager to see you. He calls your name, “You won’t believe it! The person I just helped gave me the payment, pizzas and some expensive wine! We are royalty tonight.”

You laugh at his excitement. You grab the pizzas and wine from him, “You can’t have this after you shower. You’re covered in blood.”

“But-“

“No shower no pizza.”

“You’re cruel!” He clutches his hand over his heart. He puts on a dramatic little show and when he sees you’re not budging he relents. “Fine. If my beautiful maiden wants me to shower before I eat, I will do just so!” He then dashes to the bathroom.

You go and set everything down on the table in front of the couch then go to grab napkins, plates and glasses. By the time you’re bringing all this stuff out Dante is out of the bathroom. Someone was obviously eager.

You make plates of pizza for you both while Dante pours some wine for the two of you. You two eat in silence but it’s a nice silence. This is nice. Dante is different than anyone else you’ve eaten with. Dinner can be enjoyed in silence without having to talk to one another. The presence of each other is enough.

Dante finishes his slices first and before he goes to grab more he points out, “Did you know you’ve been here for one month now?”

Taking the time to think about it, you have. This time has flown by and it’s been great. “I didn’t really think about till now.”

“Then let’s call this a celebration yeah?”

You grin at him, “I like the sound of that.” You hold up your wine glass and he reaches for his. “Cheers!” You say in unison while clinking your glasses together. The first sip of wine is strong. The client gave Dante the good stuff.

The night goes on and more pizza is eaten and the wine is all gone. You can feel yourself being tipsy. You’ve never had that strong of a wine before and you’re really feeling it. You look at Dante who is focused on something else in the room. You get up and declare, “I’m going to clean up.”

You get up and try to move around Dante’s legs but end up falling. He is quick to catch you but clumsily. Which leads you to the position you two are in now. You’re in his lap with your hands on his chest while his hands are tightly holding onto your waist. Your heads are barely apart that your foreheads are almost touching. You two both just deeply look into each other’s eyes without saying anything.

“Dante,” you whisper deciding to break the tension.

You see him swallow but never takes his eyes off of you, “Yeah?”

“I-“

“Can I kiss you?” He cuts you off with a harbored breath.

“Please.”

He surges up and connects your lips. The kiss is hot and lustful. His tongue sneaks his way into your mouth and aggressively fights against yours. You barely have a chance to connect yours with his to move in sync. He’s going rough and not letting go of control.

He pulls you closer to him that’s when your core comes into contact with his length. You feel it already hardened and bulging in his pants. The newly added friction makes your panties get even more wet than they already are. You can’t help but crave more and grind down onto him.

You moan at the new friction which causes him to groan and pull back from the kiss. You two are panting heavily while enjoying the friction you’re both getting. You’re so close, it’s embarrassing but you can’t help it. You’ve finally get the chance to be with the beautiful man you’ve wanted for years. You can’t help but be excited.

Your speed picks up and Dante senses that you’re close. “Are you close baby?”

You lean your forehead against his and whine, “So close. So so so so close, uhhh Dante-“

“Shhhh, I got you.” He starts to thrust up to add the more friction you’re craving. From the extra movement from Dante you’re sent over the edge. You throw your head back and scream out his name followed by a long moan.

Dante can’t tear his gaze off of you. You’re so breathtaking like this. How you look when you hit your high only makes his dick harder. He feels like he’s about to bust in his pants but he can’t. He can’t ruin this at all. He can’t mess up his chance to be with you. He has to make sure he doesn’t cum before you two get to the main event.

After you finish you fall onto Dante and he’s quick to wrap his arms around you. He presses a kiss to your temple and murmurs, “Such a good girl for me.”

You whimper at his comment and push yourself back to look at him, “But you didn’t come…”

Dante’s trademark smirk finally makes an appearance, “You’re severely mistaken if you think we are done.”

“What-“ you’re then carried up to his bedroom where he slams the door shut with a kick. You flinch at the sound and wonder how the hell the door didn’t break with the contact. Dante gently lays you down gently onto his bed. Sensing your worries about the door he leans down and whispers, “It’s fine, not like it’s going to do much anyways. The neighbors are going to hear you anyway.”

Your face burns bright red to his implication. Dante goes back to lean over you and laughs at your reaction. He thinks it’s adorable how easily you flush at his comments. You do the same thing when he compliments you. He’s grown to love it so much.

He leans down to kiss you again but this one is much softer and slow compared to the one you two first shared. Your lips move together and have no rush behind it. You both are savoring this kiss.

Dante breaks the kiss first again but he doesn’t stop. He continues down your chin to your neck. He spends some time sucking, licking and kissing your neck. You start to feel the heat down there again. You jerk your hips to try and get some friction again but feel his big hands slam your hips back down. He pulls back from your neck a bit, “There’s no rush baby. Let’s enjoy this.”

You groan in frustration, “Dante please-“

“Please what?”

“Touch me.”

“Where?”

“Danteeeeeeee,” you cry out.

“What? You gotta be more specific because as I see it, I’m touching you right now.”

“I want you to touch me.”

“Baby I just said I’m touching you.”

You cry out in frustration, “Dante I want you to touch my pussy.”

“See, was that so hard?”

You go reply to his snippy remark but are cut off when his finger slip past the seam of your shorts and into your panties. He runs his finger up and down your slit feeling your wetness and your cum from earlier. He groans at the feeling, “This all for me?”

“Yes only for you,” you whine while trying to grind onto his fingers.

Seeing your neediness and since you responded oh so well to his question he decides to reward you and insert two fingers into your wet hole.

You moan loudly at the intrusion. His fingers are so long and thick. They get places you can’t even reach with your own. He sets a steady pace and moves his fingers around a bit. Until you moan even louder and arch your back. Perfect, he found it.

Dante found that spot that makes you see stars. He quickens his pace and pressure to bring you closer to the edge. He knows you’re close again because you are starting to clench his fingers tighter.

All you can get out besides breaths is his name and more. Dante has mercy and doesn’t tease you again and adds another finger and starts to rub your clit with his thumb. He starts to follow the path again he was following earlier with his kisses. He kisses down your neck to your chest until he gets stopped by that tank top that has been taunting him for the past month.

He pulls down your tank top to continue his path. Before he pays attention to your breasts he mumbles, “You little minx for always wearing these tiny tank tops and shorts around me.” He latches onto your nipple and starts sucking while alternating between rolling the perk bud around in his mouth.

He brings his other hand up to massage the breast his mouth isn’t attached to. This sends your body into over drive. You clutch at his hair tightly and scream. You pull at his hair to keep him as close as you can and silently beg him not to stop.

With the extra stimulation he can tell you’re close to your climax. He rubs your clit harder and faster which helps send you over the edge. Your back is arching off the bed again while you let moan after moan out. It’s music to his ears and he wishes it could be on repeat in his head forever.

He lightens his speeds and touch when he feels you start to come down from your high. He pops off from your nipple and looks at your blissed out face. You have tears rolling down your face while you’re trying hard to catch your breath. He then pulls his fingers out of you and then watches you groan at the loss feeling.

Dante watches you blink slowly, “You back with me sweetheart?” He then puts his fingers in his mouth and licks your essence off of them. You moan while watching him do that and it’s only turning you on once more.

Between breaths all you say is “more.”

Being the gentlemen he is, he does as he’s told. He pushes himself off the bed and you whine, “Where are you going?”

“Nowhere baby,” he laughs out. “I gotta get undressed before I undress you.”

There’s that adorable blush he loves. But he can’t tell if that’s from his comment or how you feel looking at his body. He stands before you completely naked with his muscles and dick being flaunted. He knows he’s long and thick, so it’s going to hurt a bit but he’s determined to make this amazing for you.

He then leans over the bed and quickly undresses you after he gets your permission to do so. Once your clothes joined his on the floor he’s back to hovering over you. He lines himself up with your hole and looks back at you, “It’s probably going to hurt, just tell me if it gets to be too much.”

“Promise.” You lightly smile at him.

He begins to push in slowly to let you get use to his size. He pushes in a bit and lets you adjust and continues that until he’s fully sheathed inside of you. Once he gets closers to fully being inside you he hears you wince and pain on your face.

“Shit baby I thought I told you to tell me to stop if it hurts.”

“No please don’t, just push the rest of the way in. I’ll adjust I promise. Don’t stop.”

Dante bites his lip and pushes in the rest of the way fast to connect you both fully. You scream and scrape down his back with your nails. He groans at the feeling of your wet and warm walls around him but also the burn from your nails. It’s taking everything inside of him not to pound you into this mattress.

He waits until you give him the go ahead to continue. He feels your nails ease up in his bad and your body loosen a bit. Dante looks down he sees you shake your head.

He pulls out a little bit and pushes back in immediately. Once you get use to the pace he pulls out more and more until the only thing left in is his tip. When he sees that you are comfortable and pleasured face he increases his pace and strength.

He’s pounding into you hard and fast. He feels you trying to grind up into him to match his speed and that only makes him go even more feral. Dante places both hands on your hips and pounds into your hole even faster than you could have thought.

You’re “singing” again. Your moans, groans, screams and screeches are the only thing living in his mind right now. Each time he hits your g spot and you scream out his name he only wants to go harder and faster.

“That’s it, sing for my baby girl. Let everyone know who is fucking this pussy so good.”

“DANTE!” You scream out as he abuses your hole.

“I’m going to ruin this pussy so no other man can think he can even come close to me.” He grabs your face with one of his hands. His eyes a steely focused but are blown wide by bliss, “This pussy is mine.”

His possessiveness makes your stomach fill with butterflies. You did your nails deeper into his back, “All yours, only yours. Always has been.” You say between bated breaths.

“Damn right baby.”

“Dante…. so close, please.” You keep repeating please.

Dante buries his head into your neck and continues his pace, “I know I’m close too.”

After a couple more thrusts you feel the tether almost snapping. You cry out his name again and he pulls himself out of your neck. Your eyes are closed as you wait for bliss.

“Open your eyes.” Dante demands.

You open your eyes and blink the tears away and look at him. His bright blue eyes are barely there due to his pupils being blown wide. “Look at me when you come.”

Those words send you over the edge and you watch him while you coat his dick in come. He groans at the feeling and almost burst right there. He holds himself back so he doesn’t ruin your high.

“Baby I’m close, where-“

“Inside!”

His eyes widen, “Are you sure?”

“Yes please, fuck please just cum inside!”

“Well who am I to deny a request from my girl.” He does one final thrust and empties himself into you. He falls on top of you and catches his breath. He feels your hold loosens on his and he looks up at you.

Your breath is evening out but you feel asleep. He laughs at the thought. He really did push you, he got three amazing blissed moments out of you. He gently pulls out and goes to grab a towel to clean you up. Dante wipes you down and himself then throws the towel on the floor.

He hops into bed and pulls you into his arms. With this post nut clarity he wonders how this is going to change the dynamic between you two. He wonders what you’re going to think and say in the morning. He tries not to place himself with those thoughts and just enjoy the feeling of you in his arms because this might be the only chance he gets.

•

You wake up to the sun shining brightly in your face. Did you forget to close the blinds before you went to bed? You curse your forgetfulness and go to get out of bed to close them so you can go back to sleep. You’re then stopped when you feel a strong grip around your waist. You slowly turn around and see Dante behind you. Naked.

The memories pop up from the night before. You and Dante eating pizza and drinking wine on the couch then next he got three orgasms from you and came inside of you. Holy shit. What did you do!?

You try to wiggle out of his grip but he’s quick to pull you into him, “Stop just go back to sleep.” He mumbles into your shoulder.

You can’t take the thought of it anymore. You probably ruined all of this. You can help but let the sob stuck in your throat come up. You feel Dante instantly shift and hover above you once again.

“What’s wrong?” He frantically asks.

You press your hands to your face and sob, “I’m so sorry. I ruined all of this. I’ve liked you for so long and now I took advantage of you. I forced myself into your house and now I took advantage of you. I’m so sorry. I hate myself of all of this. I’m so stupid.”

Dante is quick to pry your hands off of your face. You lock your gaze with him and see him looking pissed. Great now you mad him mad. You want to hide again and not see that face again.

“Don’t you dare say you’re stupid. That is one of the last things I’d ever use to describe you. You didn’t do shit. You didn’t ruin anything. I knew what I was doing last night and getting into. I also knew I wasn’t going to leave you on the damn street because I want you with me always. I don’t regret anything and never will. I have liked you for the longest time and now that I have you I’m not letting you go so easily.”

“You… you like me?”

“Yes, I have since you started working here.”

“Dante… I’ve liked you since I started working here. I tried to flirt and get your attention but it never seemed to work that’s why I started dating my ex.”

His eyes widen, “What? You did?” You nod and he hangs his head, “Fuck, so I could have had you earlier.”

You know he’s saying that to himself and not to you. You let him work out his thoughts and what he wants to say next.

“I am so sorry.” He picks his head back up but now he looks determined, “I promise from here and now you have my full undivided attention. I really love you and I don’t want to waste any more time.”

You beam up at him, “I love you too.”

He flops back down on you and cuddles you like you’re a teddy bear. “Now that’s settled, back to sleep we go.”

[checkeredflagggs]

Surprise!

pairing: max verstappen x girlfriend!reader

summary: max has a surprise waiting for him after Miami

a/n: this literally popped into my head after I heard speculation that real baby verstappen was born! Well wishes to the family!

a/n2: recently learned that my great grandmother was named Tommy and I loved that so much! So I really wanted to use her name somewhere

a/n3: I did 1 quick google search that said that it was just under 11 hours from Miami to Monaco and as that worked for my fic, that’s what I’m going with. If it’s wrong imagine the rookies pleading with their eyes to make the pilots go faster

a/n4: I did a quick search on pregnancy and labor, please Do Not fact check me. I’m good with the fanfiction version of it

a/n5: I wrote this before the Jack alpine news dropped…

Masterlist | Taglist | Rookies Masterlist

y/n

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, maxverstappen1, francisca.cgomes, and 2,612,182 others

tagged: francisca.cgomes, alexandrasaintmleux

y/n: a weekend with the girls! With our fur babies!

view all comments

user1: now this is the type of content I’d pay to see

↳user2: the Leo/Nino/Simba play date is top tier content

↳user1: right???

oscarpiastri: I still haven’t met Nino yet…

↳y/n: come visit after Miami! Max will be collecting all the animals then

↳oscarpiastri: will do!

user3: girl girls girls!!

alexandrasaintmleux: oh I can’t wait! this weekend is gonna be amazing! liked by y/n, francisca.cgomes

user4: collecting the animals??

↳user5: I mean…she’s gotta be getting close

↳user6: do you think she’s going to stay with someone till she gives birth?

↳user5: that’s what I would assume — I suspect it’s probably one reason why they’re having a sleepover

maxverstappen1: have fun mijn leeuwin

↳y/n: always do!

↳francisca.cgomes: of course we will!

charles_leclerc: and how is leo doing?

↳y/n: he’s attacked 4 of max’s trophies and he’s been here 30 minutes

↳charles_leclerc: good good

↳maxverstappen1: 😑😑 liked by charles_leclerc

olliebearman: you guys are gonna watch the race right?

↳y/n: of course we are darling — and you’re gonna do amazing

↳kimi.antonelli: and me 🥺🥺

↳y/n: I’ve got my #12 hat ready!

↳jackdoohan: the favoritism…

↳y/n: I have them on a rotating schedule jack!

↳maxverstappen1: better than me! She doesn’t wear my merch anymore liked by jackdoohan

↳y/n: I’m carrying your baby, what more do you want?? liked by olliebearman, gabrielbortoleto_, liamlawson30, isackhadjar, jackdoohan, kimi.antonelli

f1gossip

liked by user, user, user, and 1,623,823 others

f1gossip: max was all smiles today when asked about y/n and their upcoming child!

view all comments

user7: god to have max look at you like that!

user8: oh my god he’s so cute…

user9: oh y/n is so close! I guess I didn’t realize she’s due soon

↳user10: me either!

↳user11: wait how close is she?? I couldn’t watch the interviews 😡

↳user10: just about 2 weeks left!!

↳user11: oh wow that is so close!

user12: baby verstappen incoming!

↳user13: oh i can’t wait for the rookies to meet baby lion…

↳user14: they’re gonna be great big brothers!

↳user13: they really are

Private Messages, Max and y/n

Private Messages, y/n and Alex/Kika/Sophie/Victoria

Private Messages, Jos and y/n

Bluesky

user15: what’s happening??? Why are they legit running away??

↳user16: omg what if it’s y/n??

↳user17: don’t even speak that into existence!

user18: this has to be about y/n…

↳user19: no but for real what else would cause Max AND the rookies to go sprinting through the paddock like that??

user20: max’s jet just left Miami

↳user21: Jesus he must have went straight to the plane

↳user22: that’s the only way that timeline makes sense

user23: do we think y/n is giving birth??

↳user24: god she’s close enough to isn’t she??

↳user25: if she is — will max have a chance to make it back in time??

↳user26: maybe?? First births do tend to be longer and I just googled it and it’s apparently just under 11 hours…I guess it just depends on when she started

Private Messages, Alexandra and the Girls

y/n

liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri, and 3,723,182 others

y/n: I’m so happy to meet you my Tommy Love. You are the absolute star of my life 💙💙

comments have been limited

oscarpiastri: she’s adorable y/n

alex_albon: paddock princess incoming!

charles_leclerc: congratulations y/n — she’s almost as amazing as you ♥️

lilyzneimer: congratulations!!

lilymhe: beautiful girls 💚

sophiekumpen: what a beautiful baby girl

victoriaverstappen: a niece! She’s absolutely lovely

danielricciardo: Danny Ric incoming! Gotta meet my goddaughter!

↳charles_leclerc: not just wait a moment!

↳landonorris: you wish

maxverstappen1

liked by hulkhulkenburg, fernandoalo_oficial, oscarpiastri, and 2,833,923 others

tagged: y/n

maxverstappen1: welcome to the world Tommy Love ❤️ we’ve been waiting for you

view all comments

user27: Tommy Love 🥺🥺🥺

↳user28: I adore her already

user29: this is the best news to wake up to!!

hulkhulkenburg: welcome to the club kid!

↳maxverstappen1: what club?

↳hulkhulkenburg: f1 fatherhood — it’ll change your life

↳maxverstappen1: she already has

↳hulkhulkenburg: this is just the beginning

pierregasly: congrats man 🩷 can’t wait to meet her

↳francisca.cgomes: my goddaughter is amazing!

↳alexandrasaintmleux: *our!

↳francisca.cgomes: our!

user30: are both Alex and Kika godmother then?

↳user31: that’s what it looks like…

↳francisca.cgomes: y/n said we got the pleasure of it because we were there and helpful when she went into labor liked by y/n

sebastianvettel: congratulations

jensonbutton: congrats kid!

fernandoalo_oficial: ¡felicidades!

y/n

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, and 3,293,193 others

tagged: olliebearman, liamlawson30, kimi.antonelli, gabrielbortoleto_, isackhadjar, jackdoohan

y/n: my big kids got to meet my littlest

view all comments

kimi.antonelli: she’s so tiny…

↳y/n: she didn’t feel like it a couple of hours ago…

↳kimi.antonelli: oh!

oscarpiastri: again the blatant favoritism…

↳y/n: should have been slower in the race so max couldn’t leave so fast

↳oscarpiastri: I couldn’t just let him win…

↳maxverstappen1: so you didn’t really want to meet your new sister…

↳jackdoohan: don’t worry! I’m here for Australian representation!

↳danielricciardo: as am I!

↳oscarpiastri: 😑😑

isackhadjar: she’s so pretty y/n…thank you for letting me be here

↳y/n: of course darling 💜

user32: now this was what I was waiting for!!

↳user33: right?? We got a pregnancy announcement and then 6 surprise adoptions back to back — this meeting has been on my mind since then

↳user34: 7! Cause they also got Oscar…

↳user33: true true true

jackdoohan: best part of the weekend by far!

↳olliebearman: you’re telling me…

↳liamlawson30: yup

↳y/n: come cuddle your sister and let me curse out some people for you liked by jackdoohan, olliebearman, gabrielbortoleto_, liamlawson30

↳gabrielbortoleto_: that sounds fun!

Taglist

Please interact with my taglist post if you want to join — I don’t always check the notes on the individual posts

@anamiad00msday @suns3treading @daniskywalkersolo @awritingtree @justheretoreadthxxs @coral7161 @lost4lyrics @mastermindbaby @freyathehuntress @angelluv16 @nichmeddar @mxm47max @justaf1girl @a-beaverhausen @tallrock35 @elizamoe133 @jessica3478 @il0vereadingstuff @widow-cevans @1-of-my-many-obsessions @charlesgirl16 @anunstablefangirl @evie-119 @sugarfreerbr @princessesgarden @mayax2o07 @teti-menchon0604 @galaxygurlll @star73807-blog @shelbyteller @ihaveitprinteddout @lilymaleshka @kuolonsyoja @allthings-fandom @mountainshuman @hannahmotors10 @moonypixel @nikfigueiredo @daisydaze111 @deephideoutmilkshake @mimisweetz @books-fangirl-books @woderfulkawaii @fastandcurious16 @lilyofthevalley-09 @rexit-mo @alessa-the-enchantress @dying-inside-but-its-classy @bookishprophecy @yaesflorist

[not-delusional-at-all]

Wrong Name pt. 5

MDNI 18+

Ghost x femreader

CW: cheating, stalking?

Links to pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4

I think this is the last part and it's a pretty long one. Thank you all for your support and for reading. I really appreciate it 💖🫶

The rest of the day after you had somewhat accused your boyfriend of cheating was tense and awkward. You don't believe he's cheating, but he doesn't believe that your ex-boyfriend broke into his car and planted shit to start a fight between the two of you.

He doesn't believe Simon did it because there's no sign of a break in on his car. There's no pry marks or anything. He believes that you put stuff in his car and messed with the seat to do a Tiktok trend or something.

You brought up the point that you would have had your phone out to film if that were the case but he wasn't budging. That's his firm belief.

You haven't brought it up with him since that day because it would likely just start an argument. But you can't stop thinking about it.

Your brain keeps telling you to unblock Simon and talk to him about this because you know for sure that it was him and you're not about to let him or your boyfriend make you feel crazy.

You know it's probably not the wisest idea to unblock him and contact him but you don't think he's gonna stop at planting stuff in your boyfriend's car. You don't know what else he'll do but you don't want to find out.

After thinking about it for a few days after the incident with your boyfriend's car, you decided to unblock Simon.

There was so much but so little that you wanted to say to him. The very thought of speaking with him pissed you off- maybe it's because you're still rightfully upset that he cheated on you and you had to find out during sex.

You sent just a simple text. You stated who you were and told him to call you. It felt like an eternity before he read the text but it was only about ten minutes.

After the text showed that it was read, you almost immediately got a call from him. You let it ring for a few seconds before answering it because you weren't sure you wanted to answer it.

"Simon" you spoke into the phone. You didn't feel like he deserved the courtesy of a 'hello'. The line remained silent for a few moments before either one of you spoke up.

"We need to talk" you told him. You heard him sigh from his side of the call.

"Alright, love-" he replied.

"Do not call me that" you cut him off. You're not going to let him manipulate you with pet names and terms of endearment.

"Okay... What is it you want to talk about?" He asked, sounding a little irritated that you're coming at him with an attitude and he's barely said a word.

"I think this is a conversation best had in person" you told him. Simon didn't know what you wanted to talk about but he couldn't help but jump up and down with glee in his head.

"Alright, are you free now?" He asked.

"Yeah... I am" you replied.

"Can we meet at our old spot?" He asked. He was talking about the restaurant you two would go to weekly on your date nights. It wasn't anywhere fancy but the food is delicious.

"Yeah, sure. Meet me there in like twenty minutes" you told him before hanging up.

You didn't know if you should tell your boyfriend about this meeting but regardless, you're going and you're not telling him until after if you do end up telling him.

You got to the restaurant and waited impatiently. He showed up to the restaurant right at the agreed upon time. Not a second late.

"Simon" you spoke. He was smiling. You wanted to smack it off of his face.

"You look beautiful" he spoke. You held back an eye roll.

"Don't." You stated, making it clear that you don't want his compliments. He sat down across from you. The air around you was tense and you wanted nothing more than to yell at him and go off on him but you're in public and you're not about to make a scene.

"Why did you want to meet?" He asked. He was hoping that you were wanting to reconcile but that's the last thing you want to do with him.

"Why did you break into my boyfriend's car?" You asked, cutting straight to the chase. You wanted to get this over with, you didn't feel like beating around the bush at all.

"That's a bold accusation, love" he chuckled. 'fuck' he thought to himself 'she's figured it out'.

"Answer the question, Simon" you insisted. He remained silent for a moment to try to dig himself out of this.

"What would make you think that I would do such a thing?" He asked. Even though his face was showing no emotion, you could still see the mild panic in his eyes. You could see that he was trying to find ways to get you off of his trail.

"Quit deflecting. Answer the question." You insisted again. He bit his lip as he searched for another excuse.

"Simon, I know it was you that planted hair ties and the tube of lipgloss that I lost at your place a year or two ago. Fess up or I'm going to force it out of you" you told him, breaking the silence. You didn't know how you would force it from him, you hadn't thought that far. For some reason you thought he was gonna immediately say that it was him and that was that.

"I don't know what you're talking 'bout. Maybe your boyfriend is cheating on you" he shrugged. You rolled your eyes.

"Simon, I'm going to ask you one more time. Why did you break into my boyfriend's car? I know it was you. If you don't admit it, I will make your life a living hell" you asked, your jaw was clenched and you were getting more and more pissed off with every second that passed.

"Already living in hell, love" he smirked. You saw red when you saw his smirk. You wanted to slap it off of his stupid face.

"Simon, answer the fucking question!" You continued to press, raising your voice which earned a few stares from other patrons. Simon knew you were gonna end up causing a scene and getting them kicked out if he kept stalling and deflecting.

"Lower your voice. Yes, I did break into your... Boyfriend's car" he spoke quietly. It almost seemed like it pained him to refer to your boyfriend as your boyfriend.

"Why?" You questioned. You wanted to know what the fuck was going through his head. You wanted to know how he knew what car your boyfriend drove and where to find it. There were so many things you wanted to know.

"Wanted you to break up with him" he shrugged. He spoke so nonchalantly as if it was a normal thing to do, as if this was just something he did on a regular basis.

"What the fuck?" Was all you could say. You thought that since he was quiet, he was living his own life and not sticking his nose into other people's business.

"Had to get you back somehow. Needed you to break up with him 'fore you got all attached to him" he explained. Your eye twitched. It took everything within you not to blow up.

"Simon, I'm only going to tell you this once. There is no more us. There will never be an us again. You screwed that up when you cheated on me. I don't want you anymore. I don't love you anymore. You need to move on and live your life. If I find out that you're trying to sabotage my relationship again, I will contact the police and report you for harassment" you told him, your voice dangerously low.

"Fine." He huffed.

"Good." You said, getting up and leaving him at the table. You didn't want to see his face for any longer than you needed to. You're so disgusted and shocked that he would do something like this.

He knew you would make good on your promise if he kept on trying to destroy your relationship. He's not afraid of the police or a little restraining order or even jail.

He was afraid of this coming back to Price. His team had no clue he had a girlfriend let alone one that he cheated on. He didn't want his military career destroyed over this.

His heart was shattered but he was still holding out hope that maybe you'll change your mind one day. He fucked up the one good thing he had in his life and he's almost certain he's never gonna get it back.

Taglist: @beautifuleaglealpaca @skeletonsucker

[distantreverbs]

My BuckTommy shippers, I fear this may be one of the last times I try walking you off the ledge. Because, quite frankly, I've been over all the baseless doom and gloom going on in this fandom.

I'm going to try my best to keep this short and concise. Facts will be in bold, thoughts will be immediately after.

Tim Minear separated Buck and Tommy in 8x06. Which lost some trust from certain people in the fandom. Which... I both do and do not understand. I understand the break up causing confusion and anxiety because it was, to be blunt, amateurishly implemented, and I understand that because we all have a familiarity with partaking in fandom, this means we're used to ships falling apart at the seams out of nowhere. I also understand that the stupid ass "exit interview" by a Buddie journalist amplified the confusion. However, I also don't understand simply because... the break up was left extremely open-ended, suggesting more to come. I don't think Tim Minear could have made it any more obvious that the door was still very much open, if I'm being real here. Tommy literally says, "I'll see you around."

Even while Tommy was absent for a stretch of episodes, his presence was strongly included in just about every episode he himself was not featured in. The baking. The text bubble. Buck straight up admitting he missed Tommy, to the point where other characters were like, "Oh my GOD, go put his dick in your mouth and shut up." I need you guys to recognize that this was by design. The writers wanted us to know that the break up wasn't sticking and that it was but a mere obstacle in the way of their love. If you want even more proof of that...

When Tommy finally returned, it was promptly established by Tommy himself that he fought the impulse to reach out to Buck. To the point where he found himself driving by Buck's old loft, which he assumed was still Buck's current place of residence. This really speaks for itself, doesn't it? And it's so romantic comedy coded, Tommy mimicking some of the same behavior Buck did. I'm almost surprised they didn't toss a line in about Tommy working out whenever he had the urge to finally pull over outside Buck's during one of his drives.

Both Buck and Tommy blatantly wanted to reconcile after the 8x11 "hookup". I put hookup in quotations... because I don't subscribe to the idea that that was merely a hookup. That was them, on some level, thinking and hoping they might be reconciling. And when they realized they were "wrong" (they weren't, actually, but joy to the wonderful world of narrative miscommunications), both men were upset. Tommy had tears in his eyes.

Buck finally felt brave enough to unpack after his night with Tommy. If we can't acknowledge that this is a way for the writers to clue the audience into the fact that Tommy makes Buck feel at home, what the fuck are any of us even doing here? Why am I even wasting my time writing this?

"And for you." And for you.

Tommy looking at Buck through the monitor and crying was completely unscripted. This is HUGE, you guys. 1. It establishes that Tommy feels something deep for Buck (Lou has referred to Buck as the love of Tommy's life). 2. It establishes that the show itself is consciously trying to establish this to the audience. Why would they do that, especially so close to the finale, if the end result is to break them up for good? Think about that for a second, I beg of you.

Tommy is shown as saving Bobby in the past. I made a post about Invisible String Theory,.

Tommy is a pallbearer during Bobby's funeral ceremony. What an honor, right? I wonder why they made that decision, in addition to everything else I mentioned above, for that matter, if the end is right around the corner? What a waste of time lol.

"B-b-but he wasn't in 8x17!"

Okay, AND? You sound like Buddies do when it comes to Eddie. Do you see that?

"B-b-but Tim has a history of getting bored of storylines. And if Tommy is hardly in the finale, there won't be time for a reconciliation."

Okay, maybe, but I just think you're spiraling and jumping to the worst possible conclusions.

All evidence points to Minear really liking Tommy and Lou.

The show itself has gone out of its fucking way to include Tommy, even when he's literally absent.

I don't know what show you're all watching, but last I checked, I'm watching 9-1-1, a show that notoriously introduces conflict left and right, only to wrap all that shit up within two minutes completely out of the blue. Why should that suddenly not apply to Tommy's relationship woes with Buck? We could find out Lou is appearing for one literal minute in the finale, and that still wouldn't be sufficient proof against a reconciliation.

At the end of the day, maybe I'm applying logic to a show that doesn't deserve it. But, and I know this is a hot take with this fandom, I just don't believe Tim Minear and his team of writers are so terrible that they'll put in the amount of effort they have to keep Tommy in the spotlight and to make it clear he's great for Buck... only to pull back and shout, "Psych! You all thought!' at the last minute.

At worst, they'll subvert expectations and stretch the 'will they won't they' into season nine. At best, we'll get a nice treat in the finale. But they're not breaking up for good. If they do, I'll delete my tumblr, after giving you all a sufficient amount of time to spam my inbox and say you told me so.

[bidisasterevankinard]

Captain Buckley?

based on my this idea

Buck is trying to enjoy his family, friends, people close to his family and, most importantly, Tommy being around him right now happy about new life. He really does. But the soft broken place of his heart where Bobby lives still aches. Hard.

But he tries. He smiles at everyone, hugs his nephew, Jee. Promises his favorite girl he’s loving her no less than before. 

He laughs when baby boy Han makes a mess of his hirt and he’s happy to have spare in his jeep. 

He’s trying to find happiness in what he still has. And he feels it's helping. He’s still not enjoying it as much as he could have been, but he does enjoy it enough.

He still can’t stop feeling like Bobby’s ghost is watching over them smiling.

Buck hugs Tommy closer. He needs to feel himself stay in now, not dissociating yet again.

His phone rings and he wouldn’t answer, but he knows the number from LADD HQ and he would never let it unanswered. 

The backyard is pleasantly quiet and empty, everyone is around baby boy Han and new parents.

“Firefighter Buckley,” he answers, hoping he’s not getting fired for something. 

“Good afternoon, firefighter.”

“C-chief Simpson,” Buck straightens as if the Chief can see him. The trainings are his intistics now.

“I hope I’m not taking you away from a shift?” man asks but Buck knows even if he was on shift he would find time to talk to the man. Everyone would.

“N-no,” he coughs, hating his stutter as never before, “It’s my day off.”

“Good,” on the line some papers are moved, “I’m sure you know Captain Gerrard is retiring next month and after captain Nash’s tragic death,” Buck can feel his nails bite  his skin in the fist. He hopes it’s short enough not to draw blood, “it’s even harder to find the leader of the team who can take after him and be a good person for that role. Not gonna lie, our first choice was firefighter WIlson as she has way more experience in the field and experience as interim captain, but she refused the promotion. That’s why we move to second. You.”

Buck tries to swallow, but he can’t.

Him taking over 118? Now? So soon after Bobby? And he won’t lie he started to think he never would as Hen would take over and he eventually would move. 

He finds his voice. It sounds so stoic and professional; he is surprised it’s him speaking. 

“Can I have time to think? Not gonna lie, I’m surprised. Captain Nash thought I’m not ready.”

“Really? It surprises me. Because in his last three years reviews he was making notes about your growing leader skills and how you would makew a great captain.”

Buck doesn’t know what to say.

“Maybe he just wanted to protect you from all the cons of it and give you time to get more experience in field. But he believed in you, son.”

Buck almost cries.

“But, of course, take your time to talk to your family, partner and friends. Can you answer till Monday?”

It’s Friday today.

“Yes. I’ll call first thing in the morning.”

“Good. Have a good day, firefighter.”

“Thank you, Chief. You too.”

Buck doesn’t know how long he is here, breathing the air and hoping to hear Bobby’s voice giving him the answer to that question, telling him what to do. Wind stays loud but no Bobby’s voice comes. Maybe that is his last lesson from the man? To finally knows what he does and owns his decision to himself and others if they turned out to be wrong? What is the point of trying to find people’s support if they will blame him in everything anyway?

This way he would at least proudly own his mistakes and consequences.

______ here I have two variants of the ending

1)

“Here you are,” strong, warm hands hugs his waist. “I've been looking for you for half an hour.”

Tommy kisses his neck.

“Sorry. Needed some air.”

“Something wrong?”

“Chief Simpson called. He wants me as a captain of 118.”

__________

2) Eventually he comes inside. His face musr still look strange because Chim asks him from all over the room.

“Buck where you were and what is with your face?”

Looking around the room, he finds Tommy’s eyes, “Chief Simpson wants me as next captain of 118.”

[remussaggressivedogspecialist]

She's a Princess, and You're an Ogre

Remus Lupin x Reader

Warnings: Idk man 16+ for suggestiveness at the end

A/N: if you like it drop a follow☺️

WC: 3.5k

Your fault. Your fault. Your fault. What the fuck were you thinking, like you were could be in some kind of relationship? You were a Zabini, for Merlin's sake, and if you weren't even good enough at home, why would you assume you were good enough for him?

Him.

Him.

Light and dark, the raging storm and the calm front, the sun and the moon. Remus. He was imperfectly perfect. You adored his flaws. And so did everyone else. Why did you think you could confess how in love you were with him and expect it to go well when he had half of Hogwarts' female and partially male population waiting on him hand and foot? You wanted to smack yourself. You should smack yourself.

He hadn't even said anything when you poured your heart out and told him how you felt. Not a fucking word. He stood there for a minute, and then you left. It was better than him rejecting you, as if that was any comfort. But he didn't say the words. He didn't say, 'I don't love you' or 'I could never love you'. He was too kind for that. But you knew he thought it.

Why did you think it would end well? Nothing ever ends well for you. You just wanted to win. Just once. You should've kept your mouth shut, then you would've kept him, at least as a friend. It would've killed you every day to be friends with the man who was your reason for waking up some mornings, but it was better than this hellish purgatory. You avoided him with everything you were.

Sat as far away from him any time you were in a room together, and he'd never make you uncomfortable because that was how good he was, so he left it alone, for awhile, at least. You were contemplating hurling yourself over the railing of the astronomy tower when your thoughts were interrupted. You had sequestered yourself between the bookshelves of the massive library, but now you were caught.

He was the last and first person you wanted to see right now. It was ripping you to pieces but you plastered on an almost peeved look as his words, or word, reached your ears.

"Hey."

Very inventive.

“Hi,” you replied, wishing that the ground would swallow you up. That would be a much appreciated demise as of this moment.

He seemed rather sheepish. That was new. He came closer and you tried to hide your discomfort. His hands tucked into his pockets in a way that you'd watched him do a million times, and you hated everything you loved about him right now. "You've been avoiding me," he'd stated it like it was a fact, instead of a question.

“I have not.” You lied through your teeth. You knew it. He knew it. The books knew it. They were judging you with their old, cracked spines, shaped into eyebrows and glares and judgemental looks. Was that your mother in a copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them?

"Yes, you have."

His tone was still soft, as it always with you. Even now, he was being gentle with you because he knew how you were, and it made you want to strangle him. He had every right to yell and he wouldn't.

"You won't even look at me.”

You glanced in his general direction to prove him wrong, but could hardly hold eye contact for more than five seconds from your spot on the floor, a book on lycanthropy in your lap. Even unconsciously, you wanted him. How pathetic.

His mouth opened and closed again as if he was searching for words before he eventually went with, "You haven't spoken to me in weeks."

Weeks.

He'd been keeping track of how long you'd been ignoring him it seemed. The knowledge felt like daggers. He was keeping count. Like anyone would when their best friend confesses their love and then completely fucking ignores them for the next month.

“Has it been that long?” You kept composure and mentally applauded yourself. Well done, you, you're an even more terrible person than you thought.

"Yes."

He was still looking at you like he was surprised you were speaking to him, almost like he thought you were an hallucination. "It has been.”

“Well. Did you need something?” You were being rude. To him. To Remus. To kind, sweet, thoughtful Remus. You had a special seat within the seven rings of hell.

"I-"

He hadn't planned this far ahead.

"Yes."

He pulled his hands from his pockets and shoved them into his hair in frustration. He was the best wordsmith of your year, and you were making him speechless. You could only watch as he paced around the space in front of you.

"Why have you been avoiding me?"

He finally came to a stop and he looked so frustrated. If you were honest with yourself, you would also say that he looked very, very sexy right now, standing there in front of you with his hair completely askew, his cheeks flushed, his eyes boring into your own. But you aren't honest with yourself right now, so you attempt your most annoyed look.

“Merlin's beard, Rem, why else?” You drawled. You sounded like Severus. You didn't want to drawl. You wanted to scream.

He paused for a moment, then sighed. "Right." He shoved his hands back into his pockets and looked off to something over your shoulder, as if he was still too nervous to maintain eye contact with you.

“Is that it?” Special. Place. In. Hell.

"I-" And you'd broken him again. He was a brilliant orator, he was charming and witty and could talk himself out of anything, he was eloquent and clever, but you seemed to rob him of his words. He didn't want to do this, he'd spent the day trying to talk himself out of this, but he'd been getting sick of sitting idly by, and now he was here. And now he was going to say it.

"When you confessed to me..." He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose in an effort to not lose to his own emotions. "When you confessed to me... you took me completely by surprise.”

Shocker.

“Yes, Remus, I noticed. Thank you.” When did you become so mean? But at your snark, Remus cracked a slight smile. A beautiful, wondrous, spectacular half smile. That was the most you'd gotten since the night you'd said those damned words.

He sighed, and seemed to be trying to find the least painful way to say what he had to say next. That only made your stomach twist a little tighter. "Look, I just..."

“I know.” The least you could do was save him the trouble. Stop him from wasting his time on apologies over things he had no control over.

“You do?” The hope in his eyes gives you the energy to continue.

“Yes. You just see me as a friend, you want to let me down slowly, yada yada yada. It's... fine.” It wasn't. You were a liar. A snake.

His eyes widened a little, surprised that you seemed to know what was coming. "No-" But you cut him off before he could finish, waving a hand to dismiss him in a way that you hoped came off cool and unbothered rather than bitter and angry. You couldn't be bitter. Not with him.

“It's fine. Seriously.” You were dying inside. Slowly. Painfully.

He just stood there for another moment, looking you up and down, trying to tell what was truly going on in your head. Then, he decided to take a chance, to throw the line out, and see what he could catch. "It is?" He took a step closer to you.

“Sure. All good.” Snake. Liar. Hypocrite.

He took another step, now he was standing less than a foot away from you. You could feel the body heat radiating off of him, the smell of his soap, mixed with leather and parchment and some distinctly earthy, distinctly him smell, invading your senses like a familiar addiction. But Remus was worse than drugs. You felt yourself standing, your legs moving you without consent. You refused to feel any smaller than you already were.

He was still looking down at you, however, which lessened the effect dramatically. He closed the remaining space between you two and gently touched the underside of your chin with one finger, applying light pressure, attempting to get you to meet his eyes.

He was too hot for his own good. Screw his parents, honest.

“Jesus, Remus, do you mind?” You complained before pulling away from his touch, in mortal combat with the demons telling you to lean into it.

He let his hand drop immediately, his face coloring a little. He was surprised by your response. He mumbled an apology and stepped back but something was nagging at him. That cool indifference you'd been attempting to project was crumbling, bit by bit. He could see the mask slipping, but he wouldn't say anything. Kind Remus. Sweet Remus. Fucking destroyer of hearts Remus.

“What do you want?”

He was silent for a few moments, just watching you, watching the way your arms wrapped around yourself, trying to keep him from seeing how bothered you were, from seeing that you were crumbling. Then he took a step forward again, grabbing your upper arms, gently, in an attempt to get you to look at him.

“Would you stop touching?”

He did, quickly retracting his hands as if he had been scalded. There was another long beat of silence between the two of you, and he was beginning to get fed up with his own ineloquence. That wasn't something he got frustrated with very often. He muttered a string of obscenities quietly, then sighed heavily and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "I'm sorry.”

“It's not your fault,” you reassured. And it wasn't. Not fully. Curse him anyways, though. Solely for spite.

He didn't want to be frustrated with you—he was just frustrated with himself right now.

"Yeah? Whose is it then?" That came out more harshly than he'd intended, and he grimaced slightly. "I like you, okay? I do. Really. But we... can't.”

Pause. What?

“The hell is that supposed to mean?”

He was fidgeting nervously with his hands. He hardly ever fidgeted. His expression when he finally met your gaze was pained, there was something unreadable in his eyes. Then an aggrieved bark of a laugh escaped his throat and he muttered something under his breath. You could see the conflict happening behind his eyes. Whatever was going on in his head, it was causing his usually composed demeanor to start to crack. He was running his right hand through his hair again, making it messier than he usually looked even slept in. It was clear the words 'we can't' were killing him, making him want to scream. And you couldn't begin to understand why.

“What do you mean, Remus?”

His eyes searched your face. His gaze was intense, and you felt suddenly like he could see your heart and soul, like he could see how badly you were bleeding internally. "It's not..." He swallowed and ran his hand through his hair again, trying to find the words. "We aren't... a good idea.”

“Why?”

He shook his head slightly, frustration evident on his face. This was one of the very few things he didn't quite know how to put into words. "Because." It was a pitiful response, and he knew it, but that's what was coming out at the moment.

“Oh, Jesus Christ.”

He closed his eyes and cursed himself silently for his lack of rhetoric. He thought, then he looked at you, then away, then back again. "You don't understand. You're better than me."He sounded almost angry now. Not at you, though; he was mad at himself.

“How?” You questioned, knowing damn well Remus may have been the purest soul to exist on planet earth since Princess Diana of Wales.

He looked down at you, and his expression was almost incredulous. How could you not see it? "You're brilliant, and smart, and... and beautiful..." His voice was quieter now, like he was almost unwilling to admit something. "You could have anyone you wanted. Anyone. You're a Zabini, for fuck's sake.”

“I never said I wanted 'anyone', Remus, I want you.”

The words hit him in the gut, and he felt like he'd had the wind knocked out of him. He'd been hoping that you would say anything but that. He was almost glad you weren't making explicit eye contact, because he knew without a doubt his expression would give everything away. It was ripping through him that he couldn't tell you how much he wanted you back, how badly he wanted to take you up in his arms and kiss you, have you as his and tell the rest of the world to piss off.

"Please..." His voice sounded strangled now. He took one of your hands without even realizing it, gripping it tightly, like a lifeline. "Don't say that. Don't do this to me, please.”

“Why aren't you trying?”

He squeezed your hand again, and his eyes looked almost pained as he looked down at you. He was struggling to keep his own emotions in check, struggling to make you understand. Because he wanted to try. Of course he did. He'd wanted to since the moment he'd first laid eyes on you. "Because I'm no good for you, don't you get it? I'm no good for you.”

“And I'm telling you that you are,” you persisted.

He looked down at you, and he wanted to grab you and shake you until you saw sense. He wanted to hug you and hold you so tight that he'd have to peel you off later. He wanted to kiss you, over and over and over again, until the words stopped coming out of your mouth. He wanted to do a lot of things, but he settled on gripping your hand tighter. "I'm damaged.”

“Then I'll fix you,” you replied without hesitation.

He was looking at you with the most heartbreaking expression, something that was equal parts pain, frustration and desperation. He leaned forward, closing the space he'd previously gained, and his free hand came up to hold one of your upper arms gently, but his touch was needy, like he was trying to keep you close. His voice was a mere whisper now, and he looked conflicted and pained.

"No one can fix me.”

“I can try.” You had him. Partially. Almost. Nearly. You weren't giving up over some stupid lie he told himself.

He closed his eyes, and a low groan escaped his lips. "You have no idea what you're talking about." He wasn't being cruel—he knew that you couldn't know. But hearing you say it was driving him mad. His grip on your arm and hand tightened, and he was so very tempted to gather you up into his arms and hold you against him.

“Then tell me.”

He laughed bitterly, the harsh sound cutting through the silence of the library, a sound that wasn't Remus. At all. "That's what you want? You want all my dark and dirty secrets? All my scars? You want everything?”

“I want all of you," you shot back.

He made a strangled sort of sound, like someone was squeezing the air from his lungs. There was a beat of silence between the two of you before he finally opened his eyes again, his gaze was intense and focused on you.

"Even the bad parts? Even the parts that are messed up and broken and twisted and wrong?”

“I'll put them back together," you vowed.

His expression broke again, and he was so very close to you now. Almost chest to chest, and he was gripping you tight like you might be pulled away from him at any moment. "You're in over your head.”

“Then pull me out.”

He was starting to crack. Every time you said anything, and he wanted to give in. He wanted you so bad it was physically painful, and the fact that you were here, this close to him, and his, and you were offering yourself to him… That last string of his self-control was beginning to fray, and his eyes were beginning to darken with an emotion he was struggling to hide. "You wouldn't like what you find.”

“Try me.”

And there went that last, fraying string. His expression darkened and he suddenly pulled you towards him, hard, and you slammed against his chest. His arms wrapped around you in a way that could almost be described as desperate, and one of his hands splayed across your lower back, pulling you closer in a way that was very nearly dominating. He was so close to you that you were almost drowning in him. Everything was him, his voice, his hands, his smell, his body, and you could feel the heat radiating off of him as he leaned closer and lightly brushed his lips with yours.

"Last chance." He spoke against your lips, his voice dark and rough with desire. His hand on your back was gripping you even harder, his body pressed even tighter against yours. His other hand was gripping your chin now, forcing you to look up at him as he looked down at you with the most intense expression you'd ever seen on his face.

“I'm not going anywh-” He didn't let you finish your sentence, opting instead to lean down and capture your lips in a searing kiss. It was rough, the way he kissed you, and the hand that was on your chin moved to grip the back of your head, tilting it back a little and giving him better access to your mouth. He let out a low, needy moan against your lips that did something very bad, and very unladylike to your insides.

The kiss got more aggressive as he pushed you back against the bookshelf, and his other hand was now gripping your hip, his thumb tracing small and teasing circles just under the hem of your shirt. He made another one of those low, needy sort of sounds against your lips, and the sound was almost your undoing. A book falls down as his palm hits one of the shelves, aimed straight for your head, and he catches it without breaking the kiss and tosses it to the side.

The hand on your hip sneaks under the hem of your shirt, fingertips brushing against bare skin, and your body feels like he's electrocuted every single nerve ending. His own body is pressing you hard against the bookshelf behind you, and he has a knee between your legs, almost pinning you, and you let out a pathetic and small cry when his knee rubs up against where you need him the most.

He moans softly against your lips, feeling you shudder against him as he shifts, keeping his knee pressed between your legs. He's using his body to pin you against the bookshelf, both of you pressed so tightly together you're not sure where one of you starts and the other ends.

“Remus?”

He paused in his ministrations—he'd been kissing and biting his way down your neck, but he pulled back just a fraction to answer you. His voice was low, rough and breathless right next to your ear. He only hummed in response.

“We really shouldn't be doing this in the library.”

He didn't pull away from you, instead, another one of those low, needy sort of moans escaped his lips, and he used his body to push you back against the bookshelf again, just a little bit harder. His hands were still on you, one of them under your shirt now, and he started to slowly run it up the flat expanse of your stomach, fingertips tracing small circles and patterns. "I know. I don't care.”

“I care. I'd rather not get banned.”

His nose is lightly tracing across the space where your shoulder meets your neck, his lips following the same path, leaving a trail of small kisses along the skin that send a shiver through your body. He murmurs against your skin. "Why? You seem to enjoy having me pressed against you." His knee presses up a little more, emphasizing his point.

You arch slightly on instinct, and berate your body mentally for the slip up.

“Remus, you can kiss me for awhile here, or fuck me in your dorm.” Ultimatums were always a real crowd pleaser.

He made another one of those low, needy sounds at that, and his breath is hot against your skin, sending another shiver through you as he starts to kiss his way back up your neck, towards your ear, until finally he whispers, right against the shell of your ear.

"My dorm.”

[dimonds456-art]

I read reblogged post "What people often get wrong about young Ford" and I don't know how to feel about what I read. Because if we're going with the interpretation that the fact that Ford didn't defend Stan from that shitty principal had nothing to do with him being afraid of facing authority but because deep down he believed and agreed with what was being said, it makes the whole scene a thousand times worse. And it also eliminates the only excuse that makes it justifiable for Ford not to have said anything in that scene. I honestly don't know how to feel about all this.

Context: This post about younger Ford Pines by @padmerry

I'm not the blog that wrote that post, so I'm not sure you sent this to the right person, but I do wanna throw my own two cents in here regarding this as well.

Ford was 17. Maybe 18, but still. Bro was a kid.

His not wanting to speak up against authority does make sense to me as he wants to impress all the adults that are present in the room, and I do think that could be partly why he chose not to say anything, but since reading the post I agree with OP more in that it reads more like Ford agrees and just hates that he agrees. The thing he was cringing at was the way they were talking about Stan and not necessarily what was being said.

His entire life, Ford has been listening to this Stan smear campaign. Everyone thinks he just lies and cheats all day, dodging responsibility and overall just causing problems on purpose. The worst part is that they're partially right about that, too- there is irrefutable evidence that that's been the case for a long time.

The difference, to me, is that as a kid, Ford was in the middle of it and understood his brother and often partook in those activities as well. But as he grew up, his aversion to authority became more subtle while Stan was as loud about it as ever.

And while I could go on forever about Stan and how his nature is to be a caring person while his nurture was "you're the bad kid" over and over and over and over again, but I wanna stay focused on Ford for this post. So just keep that in mind.

So while Ford started trying to improve his own image, since he knew academics was the only way to move up in the world (or at least, that's what people told him and what he clings to), he started trying to obey rules more. Or at the very least, he was quieter about his disdain for them. I don't think he got more "meek" or anything, just quiet.

Stan didn't though. He was a menace in high school just as much as middle and elementary school. We can see in how he treats fellow students in ATO2S that he was kinda a low-key bully as well, which. c'mon man gfhsdkja

To me, it looks like Ford was trying to improve his image so he'd be seen as someone worthy of being taken seriously, while he saw that his brother was doing the exact opposite of that. While Stan fell further and further into bad habits, Ford tried his best to excel.

THAT'S what it really comes down to for me. He agreed that his brother was not doing well and possibly never would- not because he thinks Stan is dumb, but because Stan wasn't trying to. Again, we could read into why forever, but not on this post. I'm saying that to stop myself from doing exactly that LMAO

Ford KNOWS how smart Stan can be, and how skilled he is at sailing, building, planning, ect. He watched Stan buy his own car, they worked on the boat together, and overall his brother was a bit of a trickster. That's the part that really hurts- Stan could be becoming a better version of himself, and he's choosing NOT to.

So yes, Ford DOES agree that Stan isn't going anywhere in life. And he HATES that he agrees because he's aware of how cruel a statement like that really is. This isn't him harboring a secret hatred of Stanley or anything, this is him thinking Stan could be doing better if he simply applied himself! And he has to watch as Stan actively chooses NOT to do that again and again and again.

He's torn. He's sitting there like "don't talk about my brother that way," but if he were to speak up, he'd need to be able to prove that his brother wasn't what they were saying he was, and he couldn't do that.

So he just took it, cringing at the wording and hating how much easier this would be if Stan just applied himself. Stop goofing around and actually try for once.

This is getting long for what could be summed up in 3 paragraphs if I knew anything about condensing (which. i dont), so lemme just say that his closing the curtains isn't really a justifiable action.

What it was was Ford deciding that he didn't wanna stick up for Stan. Not this time. As the post pointed out, Ford had been sticking up for him for a long time over things he KNOWS Stan did wrong. But none of those things had been against Ford. The science fair project was the final straw. Now, Stan HAD hurt Ford- from his perspective, intentionally!- and this same guy turned around and was asking the person he just hurt to DEFEND him?!

Yeah. No. Not this time. You made the bed, now lie in it.

Again, it's NOT a justifiable action here. I'm not defending him. I just think this is what was going through his head. He was pained to close the curtains. He peeked out afterwards to see Stan reaching up for him, but couldn't go back on his decision. He wasn't thinking about the long-term, just the short-term feeling of "you hurt me and now you expect me to ignore that to get you out of trouble AGAIN? For the MILLIONTH time?"

I have this theory that if the show had been from Ford's POV, people would be hating on Stan WAY more and defending Ford WAY more. But that's the power of screentime lol.

Ford is a complex character and I adore him to no end. I don't blame him for what happened that night, but I don't think he was justified, either. What happened happened, and now both of them gotta live with that.

Though, as an ending sidenote, I am once again saying that this is kinda irrelevant and we SHOULD be pointing fingers at FILBRICK PINES, NOT THE TEENAGE CHILD WHO REALISTICALLY COULD DO NOTHING. Thank you.

I have a whole other hot take about the writing of the Science Fair that the GF fandom as a whole is NOT ready for, but that's for another day. Or post, I guess.

tl;dr ford was 17 and this was all the society they grew up in's fault with a little sprinkling of Filbrick being a bad father thrown in. Thank you.

[bebe-writes-stuff]

hi! can i ask a Tok Rev characters x reader where the reader is like Yor from SpyxFamily? like super strong, even stronger than mikey, clueless, shit at cooking and very sweet

Holyyy, it’s been SO long since I last wrote on here. I genuinely missed writing, and dw I’ll catch up on all the writing I have to do. Anyway this ain’t a life update 🙄 Ik yall js want jump to the story right away ugh Patrica you don’t care abt me at all. 😢

I loveee this prompt cs I actually had a good story idea for this, enjoy! ♥️

—

It was just you and your younger sister, Mio. You were always working hard to support the both of you, but… you weren’t exactly a pro at housework

“So, how do you like it Mimi?” You said proud only to have your hopes crushed by her disgusted face.

She quickly sprinted the kitchen sink as she hurled, “what the heck did you put in this?! It tastes like ass.”

You frowned deciding if you should let it go or throw a pan at her, that attitude is not gonna get her far unharmed..

Sighing, you rolled your eyes cleaning up and throwing away whatever was left of the food, “I guess, we’ll have to order food again since someone excepts me to be chef Gusteau.”

“It’s not my fault someone can’t cook for shit, but I can ask Reiji to get us—”

You cut her off, your soft-spoken, light-hearted tone completely changed. “Mio, I don’t want a single fucking thing from that piece of shit you call a boyfriend.”

Mio looked down, disappointed and upset. She expected that response—you were always blunt and clear about how much you hated her boyfriend. But you never wanted to force her to do anything, because at the end of the day, she “loved” him. Still, you knew better. It wasn’t love—it was attachment, plain and toxic.

“I don’t understand why you can’t stand Reiji. He’s really sweet, I promise. You just have to give him some time to prove that to you.”

You were completely done with her excuses.

“Mimi, do you not see the way he talks to you? That is not how you speak to someone you claim to love. He doesn’t love you—he’s just fucking using you.”

“You don’t know that!”

“Shut the hell up. I’m done. We’re not talking about this bullshit again.”

Her eyes welled up at the harshness in your voice. She was still your little sister. Without any more words, she went to her room, where she spent the rest of the day silently crying. Meanwhile, you cleaned the house, disappointed and sad about how you’d spoken to her—but deep down, she knew you were right. He didn’t love her.

But she couldn’t let him go. She couldn’t imagine life without him.

What terrified her more than losing him… was how you’d react once you found out he’d gone as far as putting his hands on her.

You waited quietly for the food you’d ordered to arrive. Once it did, you fixed a plate for her and walked to her door, knocking gently. No answer. You hesitated, then slowly opened it. The room was empty, but the bathroom light was on.

“Oh, I guess she’s in there,” you thought, curiosity growing as you stepped closer and peeked in.

And nothing could’ve prepared you for what you saw.

Your heart dropped.

Putting the plate down, you slowly opened the door, your eyes locking onto your sister’s soft, beautiful face—battered and bruised.

You froze. How the hell didn’t you notice?

You thought she’d just gotten into makeup lately… but no. You had it all wrong. She was using it to hide what Reiji had been doing to her.

She looked horrified. Her hand trembled, the concealer slipping from her grip and hitting the floor.

“Y-Y/N, wait—listen to me. Just hear me out. He didn’t mean to, I swear. He was just… mad.”

Rage didn’t even begin to cover what you felt. You were holding back a fucking storm.

“So he was the one that did that to you.”

“He didn’t mean—”

“Answer the damn question. Yes or no.”

She swallowed hard, eyes falling to the floor, shame written all over her face.

“…Yes.”

Her voice was barely a whisper.

“Take the makeup off and get dressed. We’re going out.”

She didn’t talk back or ask questions—she knew better. Your face, your tone, your whole vibe had gone cold in an instant. She’d never seen you like this.

Mio kept close behind as you left the house, walking the streets with no idea where you were taking her.

“That shithead… he’s in the Tokyo Manji Gang, right?”

“Yeah,” she muttered.

“Well then. Looks like we’re paying them a little visit.”

Her eyes widened. She tried to stop you, saying it was dangerous, begging you to let it go—but it was already too late. You’d made up your mind, and there was no turning back now.

The two of you stood at the foot of Musashi Shrine, dozens of bikes lined up like a warning.

You were just a few stairs away from the bastard who laid his hands on your sister.

“Let’s go.”

The closer you got to their “spot,” the clearer everything became—groups of guys lined up, all in the same uniform. At the top of the stairs stood a short blonde guy. Next to him, a taller blonde with a dragon tattoo on the side of his shaved head.

You scoffed.

“Bunch of trash. All they do is fight and act like they own the damn city.”

Your sister moved closer, almost hiding behind you. She didn’t want this. She wanted to run. But it was too late.

Their leader faltered mid-sentence, his speech cutting off as his eyes locked on you. Two girls—one terrified, the other shooting daggers into his soul—had just crashed their gathering.

“Kenny, what the hell—” he muttered to his friend.

“I don’t know who the fuck that is, man. Why’s she looking at you like that? What’s her problem?” Kenny replied, already annoyed.

Whispers rippled through the crowd as people turned to see you and your sister walking straight through them. You pulled her close, ignoring the rude comments tossed your way.

You made your way directly to the top—toward the leader.

“Hey! Who the hell do you think you are? You think you can just waltz in here? Do you even know where the hell you are?” someone shouted behind you.

You stopped in front of the leader, eyes locked on his. He glanced at you, then at your sister’s bruised face.

“You… you’re their commander, right? Or whatever the fuck it is.”

Caught off guard by your tone, he blinked.

“What the fuck?”

“Are you deaf or something? I asked you a question.”

“Who the fuck are you talking to like that?” the taller one snapped, stepping forward, trying to use his height to intimidate you.

Didn’t work. Just made the tension worse.

“Kenny, wait.” the shorter one held him back, then looked at you.

“Yeah. I am. Who are you?”

“Fuck the introductions.”

“One of your shitty little boys laid his hands on my sister. So I’m here to say—real simple—I’m gonna beat his fucking ass. And you’re not gonna do a damn thing about it.”

He looked stunned. No way. That couldn’t be true.

None of them would stoop that low… would they? Beating on a girl barely half their size? That would destroy Toman’s reputation.

“That’s impossible. Toman has a rep, you know.”

You scoffed.

“Yeah? Well, for a so-called leader, you clearly don’t know what the hell’s going on in your own gang.”

“Who? What’s his name?”

You turned, facing the sea of uniforms behind you.

“So what’s it gonna be? You gonna man up and step forward?”

A pause. Silence.

Then your voice cut through it again—cold and sharp.

“Or do I have to drag your sorry ass up here myself, Reiji?”

Only when you said his name did he finally step forward.

He swallowed hard.

“Mio…” he whispered, eyes begging her to leave.

He never thought you’d actually show up—let alone put him on blast in front of everyone.

He stepped up to Mikey.

“What happened? Explain yourself.”

Mikey’s glare cut through him. Reiji opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

“Reiji,” Draken said, his voice low but sharp, now locked in on him.

“M-Mikey, that’s my girlfriend. She’s just… dramatic. We got into a little argument. It was her fault.”

He kept rambling, voice shaky, making excuse after excuse. But it didn’t matter.

You already got the confirmation you needed.

You let go of your sister’s hand.

And all hell broke loose.

“So you like putting your hands on girls, huh?”

You stepped toward him, eyes locked, fists clenched.

…

You didn’t stop. Not when the blood hit the pavement. Not when his mouth was too swollen to talk. Not when his legs gave out and he dropped to the ground like the pathetic coward he was.

You kept going.

Your fists were raw, knuckles busted open—but you didn’t care.

Reiji wasn’t moving much anymore, barely conscious. You grabbed him by the collar, yanked his head up, ready to throw another punch—

Then your hand moved. Quick. Too quick.

Out of your jacket pocket came a small black blade. You flicked it open without a second thought and pressed it to his throat.

Dead silence.

Your sister gasped.

“Y-Y/N…” she whispered, her voice trembling. You didn’t even look at her. Your entire body was still, except the hand gripping the knife, pressing just enough to draw a thin line of blood across his neck.

Reiji whimpered.

“You think I’m fucking done with you?” you growled, voice low and shaking. “You think you get to just walk away after putting your hands on her?”

Mio looked around, panicking. Everyone was frozen. Toman wasn’t stepping in—they understood this. Hell, if it were one of them, they’d probably be doing the same.

But not this.

Not the knife.

She turned to Mikey and Draken, eyes wide, voice barely a whisper.

“Please… please stop her. She’s gonna kill him.”

Draken blinked, like he was finally registering just how far things had gone. But it was Mikey who moved.

Fast.

No words. No hesitation. Just one clean, calculated motion—he stepped forward and kicked the knife from your hand before you could push harder.

Metal clattered across the ground. You turned, eyes wild, ready to swing at him.

Mikey grabbed your wrists, trying to hold you back—but he underestimated just how much strength was hiding behind you.

You twisted out of his grip and in one fluid motion, flipped him.

The leader of the Tokyo Manji Gang—pinned under you.

Everyone watching lost their breath. Even Draken’s mouth opened slightly in disbelief.

Mikey stared up at you, stunned.

“Tch… been a long-ass time since anyone pinned me like that,” he muttered, almost impressed.

But he wasn’t the threat anymore.

No one had seen it—not Mikey, not Draken, not you.

But Mio had.

While everyone was watching you, Reiji had crawled across the ground, hand reaching slowly, shakily, for the knife Mikey kicked away.

And now—

He was on his feet. Arm around Mio’s neck. The blade pressing against her throat.

Her breath hitched.

“Don’t fucking move!” Reiji shouted, voice cracked and desperate, blood pouring down his face.

Mio’s terrified eyes locked with yours.

And just like that—

The whole game changed.

“Reiji… don’t you dare,” Draken warned, his voice low, serious now.

You took a cautious step forward.

But Reiji jerked Mio tighter, the blade pressing deeper against her skin.

“Did you not fucking hear me, bitch? I said don’t move unless you want this whore’s throat slit!”

Your jaw clenched. His words—filthy, vile—cut deep. You wanted to lunge at him, tear him apart limb by limb. But you couldn’t. Not when he had her.

Mio looked frozen, lips trembling, eyes begging you not to do anything stupid.

“You hurt her,” you growled, “and I swear to God you’re not leaving here alive.”

But Reiji just laughed, a hollow, shaking sound.

“Doesn’t matter. I’m getting outta here anyway. None of you got the balls to stop me.”

He started backing toward the stairs, dragging Mio with him.

“You think I’m scared of some gang? You think I’m scared of her?” He nodded toward you, smirking through cracked lips and blood-stained teeth. “She ain’t gonna do shit.”

Your fists curled so tight your nails dug into your palms.

“Let her go, Reiji,” Mikey spoke now, calm but dead serious.

“You don’t wanna know what’ll happen if you take one more step.”

Reiji scoffed.

“What, you gonna hit me? You let this crazy bitch beat me half to death and now you’re playing savior? Don’t fuckin’ kid yourself.”

Your eyes never left Mio’s. She was holding back tears, but you could see it—the silent plea.

Do something.

“Reiji,” you said, tone quieter now. Cold. Controlled. “Let her go, and maybe I’ll let you keep breathing.”

He laughed again, harder this time.

“You? You’re just mad I broke your little sister like the stupid, weak bitch she is—”

That was it.

The second those words left his mouth, something inside you broke. Your vision blurred, the world around you muffled like you were underwater—and suddenly, all you could hear was the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears.

You didn’t lunge.

You didn’t scream.

You smiled.

A slow, cold smile that made Reiji falter.

You took one slow, deliberate step forward.

“Take another step and she’s dead!” he barked, pressing the knife harder against Mio’s throat.

You didn’t stop.

Another step.

Your voice was calm—terrifyingly calm.

“Then do it.”

Reiji froze.

Even Mio stiffened.

“Go ahead. Kill her. But you better make it fast.”

You tilted your head slightly.

“Because I promise you won’t even take a breath after that before I tear your fucking throat out with my teeth.”

Everyone went silent.

“You think I won’t?” you added, eyes locked on his. “Try me, Reiji. Try me and see how fast I become your fucking worst nightmare.”

Reiji’s grip loosened.

Just a fraction.

But it was enough.

Mio moved. Fast.

Her heel slammed down on his foot, hard. He shouted, flinching—his hand with the knife jolted for a split second.

The moment she was free, you snapped.

You didn’t even hear the screaming behind you—Draken shouting, Mikey barking orders—your mind went blank the second your hands wrapped around his neck.

Reiji hit the ground hard.

You didn’t let up.

“YOU WANNA TALK ABOUT MY SISTER? HUH?”

Crack. Your fist collided with his jaw.

“SAY THAT SHIT AGAIN—”

Crack. Another punch. Blood splattered across your knuckles. He was sobbing now, trying to crawl back, but you grabbed him by the shirt and dragged him right back to the pavement.

“YOU FUCKING COWARD.”

A knee to the ribs.

“TOUCH HER AGAIN AND I’LL PUT YOU IN A BODYBAG.”

You reared back for one more punch—

But arms grabbed you.

Tight. Strong.

It was Mikey.

“That’s enough.” His voice wasn’t angry—just firm. “He’s done.”

You were breathing hard, chest heaving, heart pounding like war drums. For a second, you didn’t move. Blood was dripping from your fists. Reiji was barely conscious, mumbling nonsense, broken and whimpering.

You looked over your shoulder.

Mio.

She was standing there, shaking, tears falling down her cheeks—but not out of fear. Out of shock. Out of relief.

Your hands dropped.

You stood up slowly, stepping back.

Mikey glanced down at Reiji, then at you.

“…Don’t worry. He’s not walking out of here.”

Draken cracked his knuckles.

“We’ll handle the rest.”

You didn’t say anything.

You just turned around and pulled your sister into your arms.

“It’s over,” you whispered, holding her tight. “He’s never touching you again.”

…

The meeting had ended hours ago, but the tension lingered like smoke.

Only a few remained—Mikey and Draken, which were the only names you knew, some other people, and you.

Reiji had been dealt with. You didn’t ask what happened to him. You didn’t care.

You sat on the shrine steps, arm wrapped protectively around Mio, who was finally starting to breathe again. Her head rested on your shoulder as you absently rubbed her arm, eyes fixed on the empty streets below.

That’s when someone approached.

“Here.”

A cold soda can touched your hand.

You blinked, looking up.

Silver hair, calm eyes, quiet presence—you hadn’t noticed him earlier.

“Mitsuya,” he said, offering Mio one too. “How are you holding up?”

You narrowed your eyes, instantly guarded.

“Y/N. We’re fine.”

He sat beside you, unfazed by the coldness in your voice.

“Don’t worry about him anymore,” he said softly, nodding toward the shadows where Reiji had last stood. “Or anyone else at that. Toman will protect you both.”

You didn’t even hesitate.

“I don’t need your protection,” you muttered. “I don’t need anyone. Just wanna be left alone.”

Before he could reply, a new voice cut in.

“So, Y/N’s your name, huh?”

You looked over to see Mikey suddenly squatting down beside you, a stupid grin on his face and a whole shift in energy—playful, boyish, like the last two hours hadn’t been soaked in blood.

You stared.

“…Yeah. What about it?”

He tilted his head.

“Mm, I’mma call you…” he paused, eyes scanning you dramatically. “…N/N(nickname). You’re like a pissed-off little angry bird N/N.”

You frowned.

“We’re not friends. I don’t know you.”

He groaned, throwing his head back.

“Well, duhh, that’s the whole point. I’m trying to get to know you, dumbass.”

Mitsuya smirked behind his soda.

“Who taught you to fight like that?” Mikey asked, eyes genuinely curious now. “You flipped me like I weighed nothing—and I don’t lose fights.”

You shrugged, reluctant… but figured answering wouldn’t hurt.

“I used to train at a dojo. I was a kid… I think it was called the Sano Dojo or something.”

Both boys froze.

“…Wait. What?” Mitsuya asked.

Mikey blinked.

“You trained at my grandpa’s dojo?”

He pointed to himself, looking weirdly proud.

“Guess so. Never saw you though,” you muttered, popping the tab on your soda.

Mikey leaned closer, squinting like he was trying to remember your childhood face.

“What school you go to?” Mitsuya asked, still processing.

You looked off, voice quieter this time.

“I don’t. I’m online schooled.”

“Ohhh,” he nodded. “Makes sense. No way we wouldn’t notice a pretty girl like you around here.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t say anything.

Mio shifted beside you, whispering something you couldn’t hear, her voice soft.

Mikey caught it.

“She said you scare her a little,” he teased, eyes dancing with mischief.

You smirked just slightly.

“Good.”

Mikey leaned back on his palms, gaze drifting to the night sky.

“You’re interesting, N/N.”

You didn’t respond.

You weren’t sure if that was a compliment or a warning.

Mitsuya leaned over, lowering his voice.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but… I think Toman might need someone like you.”

You glanced at him, skeptical.

“And why the hell would I ever want to be part of a gang?”

He smiled faintly.

“You’re already the type who protects the people you love. That’s what we’re about… in our own fucked-up way.”

You stayed quiet, unsure what to say.

Mikey stood suddenly, brushing off his pants.

“Well, I’m gonna go beat Draken at rock-paper-scissors for the last melon soda. You coming, N/N?”

You blinked.

“…You’re annoying.”

“Yup. And you’re stuck with us now.”

As he walked off, you glanced at Mitsuya, who only shrugged with a smile.

“You’ll get used to it. Eventually.”

You leaned back, letting out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

The night had gone quiet again.

But something told you this was just the beginning.

—

SOO how’s that as my returning post I really like this idea so definitely expect a series with it MWAH until next time my loves 😘🫶 (tell me if you guys want me to add any more to it!!!)

[the-dreams-i-dream-blog]

The summary:

2025 the boys of BTS were in the biggest band of the world, they have sold out shows and finished their mandatory military service. The world was theirs until an accident that happened in the year 2027 with their bandmate Jeon Jungkook. They all decided to break up after this accident, nobody speaking about it until now…. These are their interviews.

Pairing: yandere Jungkook x reader

Warning: some smut

Chapter 3: From their mouths

(Year 2026)

Interviewer- Hello it’s so nice to meet you. Please state your name, age, and relation.

Y/N-

Hello my name is y/n l/n, I’m 26 years old and I’m the girlfriend of Jeon Jungkook.

(She lets out a small giggle)

I can’t believe I’m getting interviewed, this is my first time on camera.

Sorry if I’m being too excited…

Interviewer- It’s okay, we are happy you are excited. I’m going to start with this simple question. When did you meet Jungkook?

Y/N-

Jungkook and I met at the Han River in December of 2025. I remember it clearly, it was day 4 of me being in Korea. I really wanted to visited it but I wanted to see it when it wasn’t busy so I decided 7 am would be perfect time. Jungkook was taking his daily early run. At first I didn’t see him I was in my own little world. I brought my journal so I was doing that when I saw someone approaching me. I’m the type to not make contact first so I just ignored him.

Jeon Jungkook-

I was taking my run down the Han River, I had stopped to take a breather. That’s when I saw her, and that is when I heard a bell. I knew I had to go up to her, don’t get me wrong I was nervous. I know who I am, I know my name holds a lot of power. So I didn’t want this to be another fan interaction… I wanted this to be different.

Y/N-

He sat down right next to me and spoke in his adorable broken English

“Hello?”

That’s when I finally looked at him. When I saw who it was I swear my eyes were going to pop out of my head.

Jeon Jungkook-

I’ve never seen someone’s eyes get so big and beautiful. I think I froze up just staring at them. My heart knew she was going to be someone so special to me.

Y/N-

I just stared at him not believing that he was actually sitting right in front of me. I didn’t know what to say or really know how to act. So I just said hello back.

(Flashback)

Y/N POV

Hello? Hello? Really Y/N that's the only thing you have to say to the JEON JUNGKOOK!

"You...you look bored." Jungkook says in his broken English.

"No. No. I'm not bored, just relaxed." I say back trying to calm my breathing.

He nods and looks down, he looks like he was trying to figure out what he was going to say next.

I looked down at my own lap and noticed my leg was shaking from the excitement of meeting my bias.

" You are beautiful." he speaks.

I looked at him so fast, I feel the blush reach my cheeks.

" I'm sorry... What?" I can't believe what I just heard.

"Did you say I'm beautiful?"

"Yes beautiful, very beautiful" he looks directly in my eyes. He isn't blinking and he is lookin at me like if he blinks I will be gone.

" Thank you" I look back to my lap not being able to hold eye contact with him.

“ 완벽한” he mumbled underneath his breath.

(End of flashback)

Jeon Jungkook-

I tried to talk to her the best that I could but my English wasn’t the best. Even though I did take English lessons in the military, I still didn’t know much to carry on a real conversation.

Y/N-

What he asked me next was like I was dreaming.

Jeon Jungkook-

I asked if she wanted to hang out with me and a couple of my friends. I mean the best that I could with the little English I had.

Y/N-

I remember saying no.

I didn’t know why… actually I do know why.

I didn’t want him to think that I wanted anything from him.

Jeon Jungkook-

She said no.

I was in shock but I understood why she said no. But I insisted that she come and just hang out.

I think it took me 15 minutes for me to convince her but at the end she said yes.

(Flashback)

Jungkook’s POV

Got her right where I want her .

She is the reason I stopped it all.

The girls.

No girl could ever satisfy me and I always thought it was me. But the moment I laid eyes on her I knew it was her to satisfy me. To please me.

Before I actually did approach her, I still fucked other girls. But all I could imagine was her perfect face.

“Yes, yes right there… OH MY GOD jungkook right there!” The random women moans loudly.

My tattooed arm reach down to her clit and teased it.

“You love that don’t you?”

The women moans loudly, I reach down and grabbed her by the throat.

“Tonight your name is Y/N, do you understand?”

The women looks at me confused, so I squeezed her throat a little harder.

“ I asked Do. You. Understand.”

“Yes” she responded

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir” i slammed right into her

“Fuckk-“

“Fuckk Y/N you are so good for daddy!” I moaned out while I feel her reach for my hair and pull.

“Y/N you were meant for me, for my cock” I flipped her so I couldn’t see her face anymore and i slammed my length back in.

“You are mine only Y/N! Do you understand me Y/N?!”

“Yes OH MY GOD I understand!” The women under me basically yells out.

(End of flashback)

Interviewer- were you nervous meeting up with Jungkook and his friends?

Y/N-

Oh of course!

( she lets out a giggle)

I remember going back to my hotel and looked through all my clothes. I wanted my outfit to be perfect. I also didn’t know if these “friends” were just other friends he had or the other BTS boys. Either way I wanted to impress them.

Jeon Jungkook-

I wanted to make sure she was comfortable around me and all my friends. So we decided to go to a small restaurant that not a lot of people knew. I also didn’t want random people taking photos. Everyone knew she won the contest, people talk… make nasty rumors.

Y/N-

Everything felt like a dream, ever since I stepped into Korea everything was perfect. Like someone planned for my trip to be perfect. Maybe the universe saw how I needed one thing in my life to feel magical.

Interviewer- Can you talk about how you felt going into this dinner?

Jeon Jungkook-

My friends made fun of me because how nervous I was.

(He lets out a little laugh)

I kept looking at the door to see when she was going to come in.

Made sure my friends were in check.I was so lucky one of my friends did speak English so he could help me translate.

Y/N-

Once I got to the restaurant I didn’t want to go in. So I stayed outside until I could work myself up to go inside. But my moment of deep breaths were interrupted. Jungkook came out.

Jeon Jungkook-

I went out for a smoke break.

Yes! I do smoke, I’m grown… sue me. Anyway I did go for a smoke and thats when I saw her standing to the side and taking deep breaths. We both felt the same… nervous as hell.

(Flashback)

Y/N POV

I’m leaning against the building, I truly think I can’t go in. Would Jungkook be mad if I didn’t show up?

Breathe Y/N breathe.

A door opens and someone steps out of the restaurant, it’s Jungkook with a cigarette. My eyes locked with his.

“You’re here?” Jungkook speaks first.

“Yeah I’m here.”

“Do you mind?” He asks while looking down at his cigarette.

I shake my head to let him know it’s okay to smoke. He lights it up and takes a hit, eye contact the whole time.

He looks so good right now. The tattoos, the piercings, the smoking. DAMN what the hell I’m I even doing here.

“You are nervous?” He speaks letting out a smirk and walking towards me.

“Yes I am actually” I state, I feel my hands shaking.

“Don’t worry you are fine, okay?” He lets his smirk fall and a soft smile appears.

I nod and take another deep breath how I’m I talking to the Jeon Jungkook.

“Do smoke?” He asks me

“Yes I do actually” I responded 

“Here” he takes a hit then puts the cigarette towards my mouth. I was going to grab it from him but he pulls back and says “ I can hold, you smoke.”

I nod and did as he said, he just stood there and smirked at me. 

Tagz: @kokoandkookie @petersasteria @crispynutella

[loxoels]

musicmajor!ellie x filmmajor!femreader

pt2!

A/n: This is a work of fiction. The events and characters in this story are all made up. Remember to separate fiction from reality!

filmmajor!reader who decided to just stop paying attention to ellie. you’ve got more important things to do anyway, especially now that your class is working on a film project and you’re in charge. you’re busy—and honestly, it feels better that way.

musicmajor!ellie who notices. every time she tries to come up to you, you’re already walking away. no glance, no words, nothing.

musicmajor!ellie who doesn’t get why you’re avoiding her, so she tries to make you jealous—starts talking to other girls more, being loud about it. but you? you don’t even blink. you’re unbothered.

musicmajor!ellie who starts asking your friends if she did something wrong, but even they shrug her off.

musicmajor!ellie who keeps texting you. non-stop.

musicmajor!ellie who doesn’t really get what she’s doing wrong or why she feels this way. she has all these girls giving her attention, always someone to talk to—but for some reason, it doesn’t feel right. she should feel content, like that should be enough.

but it’s not.

something’s off.

and it’s you. you’re what’s missing.

musicmajor!ellie who’s in full denial about her feelings. a few weeks later, you’re still avoiding her. she’s conflicted about it, so she decides to give it another shot.

filmmajor!reader who finally gives in and agrees to meet ellie. you didn’t expect her to look so defeated.

“what do you want?” you ask, wearing that usual unreadable expression.

she stays quiet for a moment, and you’re already growing impatient. “look, if you’re just gonna stand there and say nothing, I’m leaving—”

“I think I like you.”

your brows knit together in confusion. “what? you can’t just say that when you’re already with someone.”

“I— she doesn’t matter, it’s just a fling—”

you cut her off sharply, “stop. you don’t like me. you just think you do. you literally flirt with girls way hotter than me, so quit pretending.”

musicmajor!ellie whose voice shakes as she finally speaks, eyes flicking up to meet yours. “i didn’t mean to mess things up. i just—i’ve been so scared. scared of feeling this way. scared of ruining everything. but when I’m with you… it’s different. it always has been.”

you say nothing, but your expression shifts—just slightly. she notices.

“I flirt with other girls because it’s easy,” she continues, her voice cracking. “they don’t matter. they never did. you do. that’s what terrifies me.”

you exhale slowly, looking away for a moment. the wall you’ve built around yourself wavers, but it doesn’t fall.

“you can’t just come here, say all this, and expect me to fall for it,” you murmur, more tired than angry now. “I’m not a backup plan, ellie. I’m not someone you run to when everything else falls apart.

“I know,” she says softly. “I’m not asking you to believe me right away. I just—I needed you to know.”

there’s silence. heavy, charged.

finally, you glance back at her. your voice is quieter this time, but still firm.

“If you mean it… prove it. Because I’m done playing games.”

[abigailovesz]

CHAPTER 4 BLOODLINES AND ASHES

pairing: cowboy!jj x cowgirl!reader

summary: preparations deepen as you and jj fortify the ranch, training ranch hands and coordinating with elias’s men. In the early morning, jj reflects on his love for you and how much she’s changed his life and goes out to speak to blackwell.

warnings: suggestive language, not much!

chapters recent chapter. next chapter

the fire was out, but the damage lingered.

jj stood alone in the blackened shell of the barn, boots crunching over cinders. smoke still clung to the air like a ghost refusing to leave. he ran a hand over the scorched frame of the door he’d kicked open the night before and felt the dull ache in his arm from where a beam had clipped him.

but he didn’t care about any of that.

all he could see was you - how you'd screamed when you saw the fire, the way your eyes had gone wide with horror. and how it broke him. not the barn, not the colts. you.

jj had never loved anything with the kind of ache he loved you with. It was fierce. deep. a little terrifying. some mornings he woke up with you curled against his chest and didn’t move for an hour just in case the spell broke.

you were a woman, a real one at that - beautiful and stubborn. you didn’t let yourself be loved easily. but when you gave yourself to someone, you didn’t hold anything back.

and jj would die before he let silas thatcher take that light out of you.

THE BLACKWELL woman lived in a crooked shack that clung to the edge of a cliff like a stubborn weed. the air out here tasted different - old, wild, untouched. jj tied his horse to a bare tree and approached the house with caution. he wasn’t scared. but he respected stories. and the stories about this woman were strange.

she opened the door before he could knock.

“you’re a maybank,” she said flatly.

jj blinked. “yes, ma’am.”

“ah' can smell it on you. and ya boots are too loud.”

she was small - birdlike - with a crown of gray-white braids and sharp yellow eyes. she looked ancient but not fragile. there was steel in her spine. “you want to know why Silas Thatcher’s got a taste for your land,” she said, stepping aside. “Come in.”

jj followed.

the inside was cluttered, every surface stacked with jars, bones, maps, and faded newspaper clippings. a fire crackled low in the hearth, and a wolf hide hung from the ceiling like a curtain.

“you love her,” the woman said without turning around.

jj stiffened. “I didn’t say nothin bout my woman.”

“you didn’t need to.” she dropped a bundle of herbs into a pot. “It’s in your eyes. I’ve seen that look before. her father had it too - only it was for the wrong woman.” jj stepped closer. “you knew her parents?”

“knew of them. everyone around here did, before it all went to hell.”

“what happened?”

she sat slowly, pouring a thick black tea into two chipped cups. “they were land-strong, like your folks. proud. bloodline older than the railroad. but silas - he wanted everything they had. the land, the cattle, the water rights. and when her grandfather refused to sell, silas made sure the title went missing.”

jj clenched his jaw.

“the boy - her daddy - tried to fight back. married a woman with just as much fire, thinking they could stand against it. But silas... silas dont play fair.” the woman looked jj dead in the eye and continued. “he killed her father. took the land. ran off the rest.”

jj’s voice was quiet when he spoke. “and y/n?”

“she was just a baby. her mama took her and ran. west, I think. changed her name. hid her from Silas.”

jj sat in stunned silence. every piece clicked together.

that letter. that look in silas’s eyes.

“he didn’t recognize her,” he said slowly, “not until he saw her face up close.”

“no. but he does now. and that means he’ll come harder. because she’s proof of what he did. proof that that family never really died out.”

jj stood. “thank you.”

“you’re not going to win this in court,” the woman said quietly. “ya know that, don’t you?” jj looked back at her, face hard and determined. “I’m not trying to win in court. I’m trying to survive.”

the woman gave a small smile. “then stay close to her. because that girl’s going to be the fire that saves you. or the one that burns everything down.”

"dont worry, ma'am we dont go to long away from each other."

YOU WERE STANDING at the split-rail fence, staring at the charred wreck of the barn when you heard hoofbeats. jj dismounted and walked straight toward you. his shirt was dusty, his jaw tense - but his eyes never wavered. you turned to him, brow furrowed.

“what'd she tell ya?” he didn’t answer at first. Instead, he reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “that you were born from a bloodline meant to fight.” you swallowed hard. “and?”

“and that silas killed your grandfather.”

you nodded slowly, jaw clenched. “so we stop him.”

jj's hands slid up your neck, cupping your face. “sweethear-”

“no. don’t tell me to just..run.”

“I wasn’t gonna tell ya to run doll,” he said softly. “I was gonna tell you… that- that I love you and i dont wantcha to get hurt.” then, he continued-

“i’ve loved you since you told me I ride like a drunk fuckin outlaw,” he added with a shaky smile. “since the first time you patched up my busted hand and didn’t flinch when I bled all over ya floor.”

tears prickled your eyes, a familiar lump forming in your throat. “jj…”

“I don’t care if it’s you against the world. I’ll be right there beside you, m'kay?” you kissed him - hard and sure, fingers buried in his hair - and whispered a small "okay," against his mouth.

SILAS STOOD at the window of his mansion, staring down at the valley. his shadow stretched long in the amber light. “she knows who she is now,” the deputy said behind him.

silas smiled coldly.

“good,” he said. “It’ll make destroying her that much sweeter.”

taglist: @bbyg4rl - @baocean - @loveharlow - @mytaping - @kittykatinc comment user to be in taglist !

[ego-osbourne]

I wanted to expand on my last post. Eventually I’ll do one about Glarthir, but I feel like he’s an easier case to understand. For now, I want to talk about why

Mankar Camoran was right.

To preface: I think an extremely important part about understanding this position is reading Oblivion’s writing from a Doylist perspective, not a Watsonian one. Oblivion as a game provides a very biased narrative for the player, feeling almost as if the Empire itself made a game about the events of the Oblivion Crisis, erasing most things that make the Empire look wholly evil while offering just enough grey area to keep it from looking squeaky clean, and thus keeping most suspicions of true intent away. So much of TES’s lore and story is supplemented through propaganda that fans have to sift through and interpret. Here’s my interpretation.

On surface level, Mankar Camoran is a very forgettable villain. Beyond surface level, though… he’s still rather forgettable. In-game, we only see him two times throughout the whole main quest, once to establish that he even exists, and twice to kill him. He’s very mortal, and most players will see him as nothing more than a blabbering old man with very little credibility or motivation beyond “mwahaha I’m evil.” In Paradise, his speech to the player strays a bit far from the Dagonite sermon we hear in the Lake Arrius Caverns, dropping proper nouns that were never pre-established before then. Reading his Commentaries won’t help with understanding, either, as it’s filled will inane jargon that can hardly stay on topic between paragraphs, let alone between books, speaking of “heaven” and “angels” and spelling Nirn like NRN as if it was ripped straight from ancient Hebrew Christian scriptures. It’s all very esoteric, but in the way that it feels like you’re talking to someone with only a baseline understanding of occultism, and it completely rips you from your immersion in the game. Even without the Commentaries or the out-of-place mentions of Lorkhan and the motivations that come with that, Mankar stupid enough to even get the names of the Daedric Prince’s realms wrong! What is happening?

MK. MK is what is happening.

To be fair, this is not all Michael Kirkbride’s fault—in fact, I’d argue that MK had little-to-nothing to do with the finalizing of Mankar’s character and motivations; however, he was clearly involved. The Commentaries are rife with his writing style, and we have posts by MK confirming his involvement with writing Mankar. I’d more accurately (but less punchily) say that what is actually happening is developer meddling and a lack of proofreading.

DEVELOPER MEDDLING

Developer meddling can be intentional (in-world propaganda) or unintentional (narrative-pushing biases). These oftentimes overlap, and the case is especially apparent in Mankar.

Fantasy has always had an oddly charged stance against elves, and TES is no exception. Aside from Daggerfall, no mainline TES game has had a mq villain be something other than a Daedra or an elf. Daedra are self-explanatory candidates for villains, being TES’s stand-in for demons, and (whether lore accurate or not) are seen as inherently evil. However, elves are a whole different story. They are simply another people group within the realm of Nirn, and yet if a villain needs to be presented, that villain is more often than not going to be an elf. It wasn’t until Skyrim that we saw non-elven and non-Daedric villains; though, none are quite human either. Alduin is a dragon, obviously; Harkon is a Nord, but he’s also a vampire, and his vampiric nature supersedes his human nature; Miraak is an… Atmoran? a Nord? but, again, only hardly such, posing more like a Daedric-dragon-manthing than something solely human. In Oblivion, there is only one primary human enemy—Mathieu Bellamont of the DBH quest line, but even he is only just human. He’s a Breton, a human-elf mix, a “manmer” (yes, Bretons do count as mannish races, but I still find it to be a slightly damning detail). Every other villain is an elf (Mankar, Mannimarco, Umaril*) or a Daedra (Dagon, Jyggalag).

*Umarill is described to be a “half-elf;” his mother is an Ayleid, but his father is “divine” (see, 1).

Already we see a strange lean towards non-humans—especially elves—being villains. This is contrasted with humans largely being seen as the good guys. Uriel, Martin, Baurus, they’re all humans against the elven villain, Mankar. Pelinal Whitestrake isn’t classified as a specific human race, but is certainly human enough to be named Shezarrine, the “God of Man,” and notably genocides an entire race of elves… and this is celebrated in game. The player is meant to emulate Pelinal during the Knights of the Nine DLC, and his genocide is supported by the Divines and generally seen as a good thing.

Meanwhile, any anti-human sentiments are treated much more seriously in lore, framed either as a severe threat or pure evil. For example, Tiber Septim’s complete takeover of Tamriel is a good thing, despite his multiple war crimes against elves and his general hatred for them, but the Thalmor’s shadow over Tamriel is a world-ending threat that paints all elves (or at least all Altmer) as villains conspiring against humans. As another example, looking back at Oblivion, the Ayleid’s enslavement of humans is purely evil, but Pelinal’s complete and successful genocide of the entire Ayleid race is something to be celebrated. There is an obvious double-standard regarding elves and men in TES, and even when there are exceptions to this rule, the majority of the series is woven with this prejudice.

We can see this very clearly with the Camorans, particularly with Haymon (the Camoran Usurper) and Mankar. I read most “historical” documentation of Haymon and Mankar to be Imperial propaganda, though I am surprised by the fandom tendency to read these documents as the full-faced truth, especially when considering these documents’ biases. I’ll break down a few examples.

Haymon Camoran rose to the Valenwood throne during a time of great strife within the country, particularly in regard to Imperial control (see, History: Third Era, ¶1). He sought to free Valenwood of Imperial rule, and did so through means of war. In any other scenario, this would read as a story of heroism, where one person is able to assemble enough hope to stand against the shadow of an oppressive empire and free their country. However, TES offers us no such narrative, only giving us retellings of this history through Imperial lenses (Pocket Guide to the Empire, 3rd Edition; The Refugees; The Fall of the Usurper; etc.). In these retellings, Haymon is demonized as a cruel warmonger, with the only one to stand up against him being Kaltos Camoran, who held the throne before Haymon (see, Invasion of Tamriel, ¶1). Kaltos’s positive image in these accounts hints that he was an Empire sympathizer, and this is magnified by the fact that Valenwood was in a state of unrest due to Imperial rule while Kaltos was on the throne. Kaltos was likely allowing Imperial forces to remain within Valenwood, and we can speculate as to why (greed, status, etc.). No wonder these Imperial retellings categorize him in a good light, he was on their side and effectively a traitor to his own country. If we had Valenwood retellings of this history, I would wager that they’d regard Kaltos in a negative light and Haymon in a positive light, for the most part.

Additionally, Haymon is further demonized, reported to have led an army of undead and Daedra (see, Invasion of Tamriel, ¶1). This is a blatantly odd and impractical choice for an army, especially when other evidence points to Haymon having great enough of an influence in Valenwood to not be assassinated or stopped when he took the throne from Kaltos; thus, he would surely have enough influence to lead an army of Bosmer. To me, this reads like Imperial reports meddling with history, choosing to paint Haymon as a lich-like villain who can only convince the undead and Daedra to follow his reign rather than allow their readers to believe that actual flesh-and-blood intelligent people would follow Haymon. This is a common tactic of propaganda: dehumanizing the opposition’s support so that it seems foolish for anyone in the present time to support the opposition as well. Furthermore, rumors of Haymon being the son of Molag Bal are apparently rampant throughout the Empire, which is so amusingly outlandish that it reads like the real-world counterpart of someone calling a political leader the Antichrist in protest (see, Notes, *1).

As for Mankar, propaganda exists for him, too, most notably in the book The Refugees. This book is rather deceiving, however. My first read of it had me fully believing it at face-value because it presents itself as a mere documentation of true events. The Refugees details Haymon’s last attack in Dwynnen, High Rock, and focuses on a small group of survivors: some civilians, some detractors from Haymon’s cause. The book leads the reader to believe that the main characters are these various refugees, with the plot being a simple sharing of conversations about the goings-on of the attack. But, it sneaks in little things that we would see in pro-Imperial accounts of the event, like Kaltos being framed as the Good Guy while Haymon is a cruel warmonger, again (see, ¶34). Additionally, it “so happens” to serve as an origin story for Mankar, who in the book is reported to have been born among the refugees. This birth is far from ordinary, though.

Mankar’s mother, Kaalys, is reported to be the runaway mistress of Haymon, hiding with the refugees in Dwynnen after abandoning Haymon’s cause. The refugees believe she is sick and going mad from stress, as she keeps yelling, “Mankar is coming!” repeatedly. By the end of the book, though, we learn that she was not simply sick, but was going through labor, and this “Mankar” is the very child she birthed. She reports that Mankar “will bring death. He will destroy all,” (see, ¶62). She then runs off immediately after labor with Mankar in tow.

There’s a lot to criticize here. What seems like a strange, crazed mother prophesying the incoming Crisis that Mankar will bring actually reads very much like propaganda against Mankar, written in his later years of life, possibly in response to his growing popularity to “prove” that he was born of malicious origins that even his own mother could sense. This is all hidden under the veil of The Refugees being a simple retelling of events, shifting the focus away from Kaalys and Mankar just enough to make readers unsuspicious of its propagandist intentions. Attempting to read into the details brings up a lot of issues.

First: If Kaalys was in labor during the sacking of Dwynnen, that means she had to have been very pregnant for a couple months up until that point. How in the world was she traveling with Haymon across the continent (from Valenwood to High Rock) while being that pregnant? It seems like an oversight by an author who simply wanted to tell a specific narrative of Haymon’s allies turning against him. Second: How did the refugees mistake her for being sick instead of recognizing that she was pregnant and in labor? Those seem like two very different things, with the latter being very obvious and recognizable. It seems like another oversight by an author who was not too worried about the details of their story, and who only wished to tell a specific narrative about Mankar’s origins. Third: How was she able to up and run away with Mankar immediately after giving birth? And while injured (see, ¶55)? Even if technically possible, that is highly improbable, if not next to impossible. It seems like a cheap tactic to work her out of the picture rather than follow her journey after the fact, as if the author only meant to tell one specific narrative. Are we seeing a pattern?

Oh, and fourth: Who talks about their child like that? It’s almost like the author wanted to paint a specific narrative about Mankar being born evil. The Refugees stands as one big anti-Haymon, pro-Empire propaganda piece written under the guise of sympathetic characters and calling any remaining supporters of Haymon foolish, because look! All of Haymon’s closest followers abandoned him (note that this is the only report we have of any of Haymon’s followers abandoning him)! And also, look! His son is evil! Even his mother knew it! And before he was born, no less! (/speech in-character)

My theory is that this book was written in response to Mankar’s growing influence within the Empire. He was charismatic enough to win the minds and hearts of many of the Empire’s citizens, and The Refugees sought to prevent further damage as much as it could by pretending to be a simple report from the Dwynnen sacking that just so happened to have Mankar’s evil origins scribed within it. Tsk tsk tsk.

A LACK OF PROOFREADING

So, that was all Mankar’s background, but what about the man himself? He’s obviously a raving idiot who can’t keep his thoughts straight to save his life. He seems to not be well-grounded in Daedric affairs at all, showing a mix of Dagonite worship, Lorkhan sympathy, and Ayleid appreciation all while attributing the wrong Prince to the wrong realm. This is where MK comes in.

By 2006, it seems MK was no longer directly involved with Bethesda Game Studios after his work on Morrowind. However, he still had a lot of contact with the employees and developers over at BGS, and would answer them in emails about any questions they had, especially regarding inspiration for writing Oblivion. It seems the devs, in attempting to get a feel for Mankar’s character, asked MK to write a speech by Mankar. MK writes something up, seemingly semi-flippantly according to his desire to want to “*really* [go] nuts with it” after learning “Terrance Freakin Stamp” would be voicing Mankar (see, 2006, ¶14).

Unbeknownst to MK, his emails would be used word-for-word as in-game dialogue (Mankar’s speech) and books (the Commentaries). Quoted from MK, “That whole speech came from a section of said email where I attempted to get inside [Mankar’s] head so I could understand how he might think, and how that thought would translate to his writing. Turns out, [Mankar] writes like me. Ah, well,” (see, 2006, ¶12–13).

These emails were not altered when translated to game according to MK (“Turns out, Mankar writes like me.”). Additionally, these emails were not fact-checked, either. The speeches and books seem to be a complete rip, a copy-and-paste from MK’s email, with flaws and all, including the mistake of attributing the wrong Prince to the wrong realm that everyone likes to clown on Mankar for. Mankar was never intended to be written as a raving idiot, his dialogue was simply never fact-checked against TES’s own lore, and his character suffered the consequences.

On the topic of MK’s involvement with writing Mankar, it explains why Mankar’s motivations seem to flip from pure Dagonism to Lorkhan sympathy. MK is writing to BGS with a Morrowind brain, where Lorkhan and his lore plays a major part in the plot of TESIII. But, in TESIV, Lorkhan is never mentioned outside of Mankar’s own speech/writings. If the devs of Oblivion had taken more careful consideration of Mankar’s character instead of ripping straight from MK’s emails, I believe they could have narrowed down Mankar’s motivations and made him a much better villain. I would argue that Lorkhan’s story does not need to be told in Oblivion’s plot, and the plot would have benefited a great deal from focusing on, oh, I don’t know, the Prince actually behind it all, Mehrunes Dagon! Dagon, too, is clowned on for being a thoughtless, stupid, barbaric tank who only knows destruction. It’s no wonder that the fandom often forgets he is also the Prince of Hope, because the devs forget that detail themselves!

MK and Todd Howard both even say that Mankar was right to some degree—or, at least, he was meant to be! MK says, “Canon or not, my two cents is that [Mankar] is completely right … but don’t quote me…I didn’t write this in-character,” (sorry MK, gotta quote!) (see, 2006, ¶15). Todd Howard even claims that he wanted Mankar to be a morally grey villain! Quote: “You know, he’s not a cackling maniac. We like to have our bad guys be a little grayer. We want that moment where the player goes like… Maybe he’s right,” (see, Notes, *5).

Crazy! Todd Howard wanted Mankar to be seen as grey, as competent, as right! And yet, because of a total lack of care for fact-checking, a disregard for the necessities of cutting away excess plot, and a general apathy for Mankar, the Mythic Dawn, and Dagon as driving forces in the story, Oblivion’s main plot suffers for it. Todd Howard’s intentions to make Mankar a grey villain flopped so severely that it requires many leaps and bounds to see Mankar the way Todd might have wanted him to be.

LEAPS AND BOUNDS

However, I would argue there is hope for Mankar’s character as it stands. The execution was horrible, but the pieces of a grey villain do still exist! Many of my ideas were first sparked by this video, so I would recommend giving it a watch if you’re able!

For this formula to work, we have to look at Mankar from a very objective perspective. We must consider that most/all of the information given on Mankar in-game is propaganda. Even in-game events that the player sees with their own eyes must be understood as manufactured to create a caricature of a villain rather than a true villain with understandable motivations. Essentially, we must have a very critical eye about everything.

Mankar Camoran was born to Haymon Camoran and Kaalys Camoran. In Valenwood, Haymon was regarded as a felled hero, his life ended too soon to completely free and secure Valenwood from Imperial rule, allowing it to be overtaken by Summerset and Elsywer after his death (see, History: Third Era, ¶2). Valenwood is then overrun by sympathizers of various political entities, leaving the to-be prince Mankar unsafe in his own country. Perhaps he and his mother flee to Cyrodiil and hide under different aliases for a while, or perhaps Kaalys swears loyalty to the Empire in exchange for protection from the overpowering forces back in Valenwood. However it happens, Mankar eventually ends up in Cyrodiil, and he has complaints about the religious-political system.

The Empire, reportedly inspired by the real-world Roman Empire, fittingly reflects the Roman Empire’s facade of order and peace while perpetuating unrest beneath the surface. Racial tensions against elves persist from age to age, with the Empire constantly undercutting their elven enemies and making them the face of the opposition, from Alessia to Tiber Septim. This anti-elf sentiment is perpetuated by the Divines themselves, who hypocritically promote peace and unity while celebrating figures such as Pelinal Whitestrake and allowing the likes of Tiber Septim into their ranks. Homelessness and poverty are also rampant in the Empire despite the Imperial Cult’s vast wealth. Again, the Divines are hypocritical, offering words of peace and prosperity through their priests, but they ultimately do nothing to help with the economic crisis.

Mankar sees this and is rightfully appalled. How can both the Empire and the Divines do nothing about all of this suffering coming from the hands of their own hypocrisy? Mankar, the son of Haymon Camoran, the almost-liberator of Valenwood, finds it fitting to speak out against the Empire, and does so on their own terms—as a minister. Seeing as the Divines do not care for his people (elves), and seeing that the Daedra are much more effective in responding, Mankar seeks the help of Mehrunes Dagon, the Prince of Revolution, Destruction, and Hope—Revolution against the stagnant and hypocritical ways of the Imperial Cult, the Destruction of the corrupt Empire, and Hope for a better future to come. Mankar becomes a priest of sorts, writing sermons on the state of the Empire and the Imperial Cult.

He reaches the hearts and minds of the poor, impoverished, and down-trodden of society. With Dagon’s help, he is able to create a pocket-realm of Oblivion, Paradise, as a refuge* for his new followers. As his influence grows, so does his ability to do something about the Empire’s hypocrisy, and so he begins to act.

*I genuinely do not know why Paradise turns out to be a surprise torture realm. This just feels like the devs wanting to point and Mankar and go “Look! Evil elf!” This is especially damning considering that Paradise looks like an Ayleid city, and that most (maybe all?) of the victims of this torture-realm are humans. So, Paradise is a representation of human Tamriel under Ayleid rule? Okay, Todd.

Mankar is working with Dagon to bring about the New Dawn: an age free of the Empire, perhaps a restart of the kalpa itself, so that Tamriel will be free from the choking grasp of the Divines and their mortal rulers. Mankar is willing to kill for this, perhaps because he knows everyone will reawaken in a better Era, or perhaps because he is aware that none of it will matter with the New Dawn, or perhaps because he has stopped having sympathy for anyone still supporting the Empire and the Imperial Cult. However you want to string it, he knows he has to get the Daedra on the field to make anything happen, and so he collects his followers and makes an attack against the throne. They kill every Septim (or so they think), and with Uriel’s death, they are now able to open Oblivion Gates across Tamriel. The Revolution part of the plan is complete, and now Dagon and his forces can bring about the Destruction of the Empire. Those who understand the Empire’s corruption will join Mankar in Paradise, and those who don’t will be killed—whether this is a mercy or a punishment is up to further interpretation.

And so exists Mankar Camoran, finding it unjust to simply sit aside and allow the Divines-backed Empire to kill the world slowly with its corruption. If it’s going down, it might as well go down with some hope of a brighter future. Mankar Camoran, the son of a failed liberator, a prince never-to-be, sees fit to eliminate a future of lies, corruption, and death by the Empire and create a new world—a better world.

This can then branch into more interpretations. The player can decide if Mankar is making a leap in logic, or if he’s doing the wrong thing for the right reason, or if he just straight up is doing the best thing possible for the situation. There could also be a lot more done about Dagon’s own motivations for this: does he feel sympathy for elves, and thus backs Mankar’s cause? Does he want to stick it to the Divines? Is there something else he wants to obtain from Nirn’s destruction? Explanations could go anywhere, and it’s sad that the game offers us nothing.

Either way, I feel like a lot of players would be able to sympathize more with Mankar if he was truly presented as a grey villain like this. As he’s presented in game, he’s simply a stupid cult leader with no sense of focus for the subject at hand. With a little more polish, though, he could be a revolutionary gone too far, or not far enough depending on how you play your character.

To me, Mankar is a representation of how the perfect blend of in-lore propaganda, real-world bias, and developer oversight created the most forgettable and laughable villain in TES, yet so full of untapped potential. Mankar is uncared for because of his apparent “stupidity,” but too much of the fandom fails to recognize that he was not intentionally written this way, and his presentation in game is a broken mirror of who the devs, creator, and supporters of Oblivion wanted him to be.

Mankar Camoran, objectively, is a revolutionary, the son of a revolutionary, and seeks freedom from the corruption of the Empire—an empire that advocates for genocide, winks at hypocrisy, and allows poverty to flourish. Who wouldn’t want to try and overturn a system like that?

Mankar Camoran was right.

[premleague]

River doesn't think he's in any position to be making promises to anyone, but– "I promise you, you won't come into work and find cockroaches have taken over your desk." That would make for an exciting morning for River [ or, at least, a morning far more exciting than any other he's had thus far at Slough House ]. His knee bounces lightly under the table as he takes a sip of his coffee. He doesn't know why he's been in a latte mood recently. His usual order of a flat white feels... wrong. Like he doesn't fucking deserve a flat white. Luckily, he's got Baker providing a distraction. He can't mope too hard if he's occupied with conversation. "You don't actually spend all day looking at me. How would you know that I'm wallowing all day?" He is. That's beside the point, though.

He's still practically reeling at the compliment. River knows the colossal state of his fuckup, but he also knows it wasn't his fault. It was Spider's, the cunt, trying to... River's not certain - was he trying to take a spot in the Park that he was convinced only one of the two of them could have? After all of the training that they'd gone through together? In some other life, River could've been an excellent field agent, and Spider his half-decent handler. But this is this life, not another one, and in this life, Roddy fucking Ho had a still frame from security footage of River crashing Stansted as his desktop wallpaper for so long after River first showed at Slough House that he was convinced he would kill the bloke with no remorse. Luckily, he's got some semblance of self control. He definitely wouldn't find his way back into the Park if he'd done that. [ Or maybe he would, just off the merit of everyone hates Roddy Ho. He won't, though. He won't. ]

The compliment will be the only thing he thinks about if he doesn't change the topic right now. "What, so you'll never compliment my paper clip chains? No matter how long I make them?" That's better. Takes the pressure of perception off of his shoulders, eases the responsibility of being self-aware.

Then he's made aware of something even more of a revelation; Baker's done ops? "You've done tailing and observation?" River has to force himself to keep his voice down, to lean across the table and speak so softly only she can hear him over the café's light music. "When? Who? Why you?" He doesn't want to brag, but he thinks he's an excellent tailer; he tailed Diana fucking Taverner herself without her even noticing. Why would Lamb send anyone but him to tail?

❝ okay, tough guy, but i don't want to come into work to find cockroaches taking over my desk. ❞ christ, the thought makes her shudder. this assignment is bad enough on its own, isn't it? all of this is bad enough without making their lives even more miserable than they have to be; if that means taking her new officemate out for coffee to stop him dragging her down into the depths of his despair, then sidonie considers it a sensible thing to do. not that she's about to tell river, but he's not bad company. ❝ it doesn't have to be google maps, you great muppet, ❞ she says, not unkindly. ❝ download a sudoku app or something. you wallowing all day makes it worse. ❞ sid's smile is teasing. ❝ mostly for me. i have to sit and look at it. ❞

mantras don't help anyone survive slough house; all that bullshit about things only getting better doesn't really hold true when everyone knows slough house is the place careers go to slowly die. but river's a cartwright, he's not bad at his job, colossal fuck up aside, and if anyone has the potential of a path back to the park, surely it's someone like him. 'til then, he needs to find a way to get through the day. that, and figure out how to deal with lamb. none of taverner's sharp, poisonous scheming prepared sid for him.

she's about to counteract her compliment, say something like, good by slough house standards, but then cartwright goes and fucking thanks her, like sid has been actually nice, like her entire mission isn't to spy on him, and, well, doing that would make her feel like a bit of a twat. ❝ yeah, well, that's the one and only compliment you're getting from me, so make the most of it, ❞ she says instead. is he a good agent? maybe not currently, but sid reckons he could be. he might have been, before stansted. he's certainly better than anyone she's worked with recently, and it's almost a relief to think that there might be a smidgen of competency within slough house's damp, peeling walls.

❝ i s'pose proper cases might be pushing it, but anything that isn't mindless data entry feels like real work. i've done some tailing, some observation. ❞

[qualityrain]

call out my name when you need me again

if you know who I am, why won’t you call my name?

[ohmytiredheart]

a soul with no king by aurora is THE king in yellow song of all time