#(good thing skeletons live long lifes)
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superiorsturgeon · 8 months ago
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out of curiosity, why do you like sturgeons so much?
A chance to info dump about my favorite fish…?!
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I grew up in the Great Lakes area of North America, where fishing is pretty popular but everyone knows that fish populations aren’t anything like ���the good old days” when people took out huge numbers of fish while messing up their spawning sites. I got pretty into fishing when I found out that I could catch bluegill in the surrounding farm ponds, and once in a while my family took me to an isolated fishing cabin for vacation, but for years I never encountered a wild fish bigger than a kilogram or two.
BUT THEN…
I found out about sturgeon! They were HUGE fish that had once lived in the rivers and lakes all around my home, and better yet, fish almost exactly like modern sturgeon had existed all the way back in the Cretaceous period alongside the dinosaurs, and they STILL EXIST TODAY!!! The fact that small numbers of these huge dinosaur fish still existed made them seem almost like a real-life lake monster/cryptid, except that we had proof of their existence!
Furthermore, there’s just nothing else like them. Sturgeon get big. Like, REALLY big. The record for the largest sturgeon was almost 11 meters/24 feet long, which is colossal for freshwater animals. They have armor plates of bone running down their sides, and at the same time they don’t have bony skeletons. They also have a crazy mouth structure, which allows them to actually pop their jaws out like a tube and suck up food. And on top of all of this, the adults are absolute tanks. I’ve seen skin nearly 8mm thick, and it’s so tough that people make leather out of it, and they occasionally lose fins or even entire gill plates and just keep on swimming! (I found out about that last one when I tried to wrestle a big female out of a river and my hand went straight into her gills. She didn’t seem that bothered by it!)
For a long time I filed sturgeon along with Alligator Gar, Giant Mekong catfish, and Yangtze paddlefish as a semi-legendary fish that may still exist, but I was never going to see except possibly in an aquarium, until I enrolled in graduate school. For those unfamiliar with grad school in the US, it typically involves both high-level classes as well as an independent research project the student designs and carries out with help from an experienced professor. When my mentor asked what kind of thing I wanted to study, I tossed out “sturgeon” as one such possibility, expecting to hear that I would probably have to limit myself to more common/accessible species.
I was blown away when she said “Actually, I think I know a guy…”
For the next several years, I got to ride along collecting wild adult sturgeon, gathering eggs, and raising the baby fish in a lab and in a hatchery. I was holding something that I had thought of as a semi-mythical lake/river monster in my own hands! I got to see a river choked with giants as big as 2 meters long, and I got to hold a 5-centimeters mottled baby whose armored scutes were still sharp and possessed the little arrowhead shape and big black pectoral fins that remind me of Mickey Mouse ears! In the video below you can even see a little heartbeat! (Don’t worry, this little guy was returned to the tank soon after to recover from his anesthesia!)
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Sadly, I didn’t find anything super groundbreaking in my research, but my experience DID land me a job working in sturgeon aquaculture! If you’ve ever had caviar that wasn’t poached, it probably came from a sturgeon farm, and if you want to see a lot of big fish up close, this is a good place to do it! I probably personally handled more individual sturgeon than there are wild fish in several sturgeon species. In addition, while the wild broodstock I mentioned above might reach 2 meters and over 50kg, the sturgeon I dealt with at the farm would easily double that, and there were a LOT of them! I got to see sturgeon behavior that had never been recorded in field guides, and even a few crazy one-in-a-million mutations like the infamous “ghost” sturgeon!
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I even got the opportunity to cook my own sturgeon meat (Yeah, I basically turned into the Touden siblings from Dungeon Meshi except for sturgeon instead of RPG monsters). I got pretty good at making smoked sturgeon, but the meat is also good on the grill or baked, and people have been cooking them in various ways for centuries.
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My favorite part of the job was physically wrestling the big fish! Sturgeon are easier to grab than other fish with the right know-how, but a human-sized fish often has its own plans for the day and won’t always cooperate. I was pretty good at moving the adults by the time I left that job, but it was still a wild rodeo every time!
Even more exciting was how we spawned each new generation of sturgeon. In the wild, they form massive spawning runs in big rivers that in the past would be enough to tip small boats, but in a lab or farm we have to use other means. I’ll spare you the details, but I am one of a small number of people who have surgically extracted eggs from a live sturgeon and sutured them back up to swim another day.
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The tldr of this essay is that sturgeon are a big, crazy-unique fish that have been around a long time, and I’ve spent a lot of my career handling and working with them. There’s just nothing like them for a fish nerd and they’re damn cool!
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(Clip art not mine, I think @sturgeonposting drew or shared it!)
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parkersbliss · 3 months ago
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A Domestic Life | S. Riley
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pairing: simon “ghost” riley x female reader
warnings: none just some fluff bc I don’t see enough for him :(( maybe OOC
synopsis: just some fluffy headcannons about the infamous ghost and how he treats relationships
a/n: there is not enough tooth rotting fluff for this guy and I’m gonna fix that starting now
Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt List
requests open for ghost!
sleeps like a log. the guy sleeps on his back, pointed at the sleeping and when he’s out he’s OUTTTT that boy does not sleep on the field so in an actual bed? he’s comatose. of course if you have a nightmare you can wake him up anytime. he’ll be a little confused at first but he’s got the spirit
enjoys cuddling but not in his sleep. he overheats so easily bc of how big he is so you guys keep your space. he is happy to hold you before bed though while watching a movie or scrolling on tiktok
he’s a DRY texter oh my god. it’s like your biggest pet peeve. “how’s your day” “fine” “made any progress?” “no.” you’re working on improving his skills but he’s just like that. you asked a question, he answers. besides he doesn’t frequently have time to text you long detailed replies
obviously ghost loves his mask, and it makes sense for him to conceal his identity but he doesn’t when he’s back with you. he likes to keep his identities separate. ghost and the mask for the field, regular simon at home. it’s not like anyone would know they were the same guy, except you of course.
on the off chance he’s home for halloween, he doesn’t use his mask as a costume (just in case anyone could connect the dots) but does keep the skeleton theme
his favorite holiday is christmas and he always makes sure he can have it off
he LOVES to cook. he doesn’t eat good when deployed so he loves coming home and cooking himself up exactly what he wanted. don’t get me wrong, he loves if you cook too but there’s something about not being able to control what you eat and then having full control and making homemade pasta for him
wears beanies all the time in winter. the dudes got a buzz cut, standard, so his heads cold. he loves when you wear a matching one with him
wakes up at the ass crack of dawn bc his body is just used to it after so many years
when he retires, he plans on having a small farm for even fresher homemade ingredients like eggs, milk etc. and he’ll wake up early to do the farm chores
again with the shitty food thing, he only likes gas station coffee. he’s so used to a crappy cup of joe that he can’t do the fancy shit. then again, he’s more of a tea guy anyway
loves his alone time but he likes you there, if that makes sense? like he loves reading a novel and not talking but just having you also read in the same room
likes just sitting on the couch together and watching a movie
It took him a while to adjust to physical touch after it being 1.) mostly abuse or 2.) enemies after him but he is not completely against it. he knows it’s important in relationships so he tries his best and eventually learns to love it
a sucker for slow dancing in the living room. bonus points if it’s with the christmas tree lights and music. he loves swaying around and the occasional stepping on feet and your giggles
his most prized possession besides the guns and you is a le creuset tea pot you gifted him for christmas. it’s bright blue with a gold handle and perfect.
he has a tea collection on display and is always trying new flavors from around the world. his green tea is imported from japan ONLY. always makes two cups for himself and you
loves to do any picnic dates or apple picking or farm style dates. the man loves food as FRESH as possible.
his bucket lists consists of food places around the world he wants to try and go with you.
including fugu from japan. you are totally opposed because of the whole life or death thing associated with it, but simon’s used to risks and he’ll do his research ofc.
he’ll never admit but he wants to go to america just to try the fast food there. he knows it’s bad and the opposite of what he stands for but the chinese in britain is ASS and doesn’t canes, in n out and chick fil a look SO good?
bicep holding >>> hand holding
he needs routine. simon needs to wake up at the same time, make breakfast for you guys at the same time, have his quiet time on the porch. watch the morning news with you and the tea. always at the same times. he tries not to but he can’t help bringing some of his military life home
his crew knows he has a wife but that’s it. ghost keeps simon separate and you are married to simon.
plus he can never be too safe when it comes to his work. the only name you went by when he’s deployed is “my wife” or “mrs riley”
doesn’t even carry a photo of you bc he’s that paranoid
you guys actually get married within 18 months because it just makes life easier. as soon as simon knew he wanted to marry you, he did.
it’s just easier in the military bc of pay, benefits, deployment, etc. and ofc he loves you and was locking that down ASAP
sends you recipes when he’s deployed for you to make and rate
when he can’t sleep, which is often, he just lays next to you not touching and contemplated how it is after all the bad he’s done, how he got it so good.
and he makes sure you know how appreciative he is
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p0orbaby · 4 months ago
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Skeletons
summary: aitana has a secret that you’re reluctant to keep, but you do, because having her in private is better than not having her at all
warnings: angst, closeted relationship
a/n: inspired by this request ! fyi i’m not a massive fan of the ending so if you think it’s bad then your opinion is valid
word count: 4.9k
-
It’s been a long day, another day of tactical meetings and drills, the weight of another training session at Barça hanging heavy on your body. You sit beside Aitana in the lounge of her flat—everything pristine but minimal, almost impersonal, as if she's never spent enough time here to give it a real life. No personal touch to the decor, just basic furniture. A lamp that looks like it was picked because it was there and not because it meant anything. The kind of living space of someone who only ever comes home to sleep, or maybe to avoid something else. You think you know what that something else is, or maybe it’s just a suspicion that’s been gnawing at you for years, a quiet terror lodged deep in the center of you, almost as if it's waiting for something to happen. You’re pretty sure it's always been there.
You notice how she sits too close, legs curled beneath her on the sofa, leaning into you in that way she always does when she’s not really aware of it. Aitana’s always been like that—too close, too warm, her casual touches like a silent scream at the back of your mind—her fingers brushing your arm, her shoulder pressing lightly into yours, her laughter soft and private, like you’re the only one who could ever understand the joke, like she trusts you with something that’s too big for either of you to say out loud. It’s a proximity that drives you insane, but you’ve learned to live with it because there’s never been another option. Not really. Not when every look, every smile, every stupid moment of her being this…close keeps you on a knife's edge between bliss and misery.
She looks at you now with those eyes that you’ve memorised, those soft brown eyes that never stop searching, like she’s always trying to find the right words but can never quite get there. It’s a little terrifying, the way she looks at you sometimes. Like you’re the answer to something she hasn't quite plucked up the courage to ask yet.
“I’m glad you came over,” she says, her voice softer than usual, like she's thinking about something more serious but doesn't want to show it. Her hand is on your arm again, a casual thing, but it’s not casual, not to you. It hasn’t been casual for years.
You nod, biting back whatever sarcastic response you might’ve thrown out, because this—this moment feels like a delicate thread, as if one wrong move could break it. And you don’t want to break it. God, you don’t want to break it.
“Of course, I came over. You needed me, right?” you say, forcing a lightness into your voice that feels false, but you’re so used to this performance. It’s second nature. Being near her and pretending like it’s normal when your heart is pounding loud enough to deafen you.
“Yeah,” she says, but there’s something under that single word, something unsure. She leans back into the sofa cushions, and you feel the shift, the weight of her thigh brushing yours, your heart picking up speed even as you try to ignore it. You look at her, and she’s staring at the floor now, like she’s trying to figure something out but can’t bring herself to say it.
You’ve never been good with silence, not between the two of you, not when it feels like this, charged and dangerous, and you almost say something—anything—to break it, but she beats you to it.
“I’ve been thinking,” she says, her voice quiet, her gaze still on the floor. She shifts, her fingers tightening slightly on your arm, and your chest clenches, that familiar wave of something crashing over you. “About…stuff”
The vagueness of it should annoy you, but it doesn’t. Not when her voice sounds like this. Not when her whole body feels tense, like she’s holding something back.
“What kind of stuff?” you ask, keeping your tone casual, keeping the panic buried deep where it belongs. You can’t show it. You can’t let her see how much this is affecting you, how much every word out of her mouth feels like it could unravel you.
She finally looks up at you, and there’s something different in her eyes. Something you haven’t seen before, or maybe you’ve seen it a hundred times but you’ve never let yourself believe it could be real. Her gaze holds yours for a moment, and then she looks away again, biting her bottom lip like she’s nervous.
It’s not a look you see from Aitana often. She’s usually so sure of herself, so confident, even when she’s being quiet, even when she’s being thoughtful. But this—this feels different. She’s fidgeting now, her fingers tapping lightly against her knee, and you can’t help but watch her, trying to figure out what’s going on in her head, trying not to let yourself hope. Because hope is dangerous. Hope is a trap you’ve fallen into too many times, and every time you climb out of it, it feels like it just leaves you more bruised.
“There’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about,” she says, and her voice is so soft now, so fragile. It’s like she’s terrified of what she’s about to say, and that terrifies you because Aitana is never terrified.
You swallow hard, your mouth suddenly dry. “What’s up?” you ask, trying to sound calm, even though your heart is racing and there’s a knot forming in your stomach.
She hesitates for a moment, and then she reaches up, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, a nervous habit you’ve seen a thousand times but never thought much about until now, when everything about her feels heightened, like you’re seeing her for the first time all over again.
“I…” She stops, her voice faltering, and then she takes a deep breath, forcing the words out like they’ve been stuck inside her for too long. “I think I might like someone”
Your chest tightens. This is it. The moment you’ve always dreaded. The moment where she tells you about some guy—some random guy she’s fallen for, the guy she’s going to love the way you wish she would love you.
“Oh,” you say, and it comes out flat, empty. You don’t trust yourself to say anything else.
But she doesn’t look at you. Not yet. Her fingers are still tapping against her knee, her eyes still fixed somewhere just past your shoulder.
“It’s… weird,” she continues, her voice wavering, and now she’s biting her lip again, harder this time, and you can see the tension in her jaw. “Because I didn’t think I’d ever feel like this about…a girl”
Your heart stops. You freeze. Every part of you goes still as her words sink in, slow and heavy, like they’re not quite real. Like they can’t be real.
But she’s still talking, her voice shaky, her eyes finally meeting yours, and you can see the vulnerability there, the uncertainty, the fear that she’s saying something wrong, something that’s going to ruin everything. And suddenly you’re not breathing, not thinking, not doing anything except sitting there, staring at her, because what else can you do? What can you say when the thing you’ve wanted for so long is suddenly, inexplicably, in front of you?
“I don’t know what to do,” she whispers, and now her hand is resting on your arm again, her fingers brushing your skin in a way that feels deliberate, feels like more than just a casual touch.
And you—God, you don’t know what to do either. You don’t know how to breathe, how to think, how to process what’s happening. Because this—this moment—is something you’ve imagined a thousand times in your head, something you’ve dreamed about but never really believed would happen.
But it is happening. Right now. Right in front of you.
You blink, your throat tight, your mind a mess of thoughts that don’t make any sense, and she’s still looking at you, still waiting for you to say something, do something, anything. But you can’t. You can’t because you’re terrified that if you move, if you speak, if you do anything, this moment will shatter and you’ll wake up and it’ll all be gone.
So you sit there, frozen, staring at her, trying to understand how you got here, trying to understand what this means, trying to understand her—Aitana, your best friend, the girl you’ve been in love with for what feels like forever.
And she’s looking at you like she’s scared. Scared of what you’ll say, scared of what you’ll do. But more than that, she looks scared of herself, of what she’s feeling. You can see the uncertainty in her eyes, the way she’s still not sure if this is okay, if she’s okay, if liking you—wanting you—is something she’s allowed to want.
“I’m scared,” she says softly, and it breaks you because Aitana doesn’t get scared. She’s brave. She’s fearless. She’s everything you’ve always wanted to be. And now she’s sitting here, vulnerable and uncertain, and you don’t know how to help her because you’re still trying to figure out how to help yourself.
But then she looks at you again, her eyes searching yours, and something shifts. Something clicks into place. And before you can stop yourself, before you can think about what you’re doing, you reach out and take her hand, your fingers lacing with hers, warm and steady and real.
“I’m here,” you say, your voice quiet but firm. “I’m not going anywhere”
And for the first time in what feels like forever, she smiles, just a little. A small, tentative smile, but it’s enough. It’s everything.
-
It starts slowly, like all dangerous things do. A late-night text that pulls you back to her place after training, her fingertips brushing your hand on the walk back from the gym, a lingering glance that lasts just a second too long when she thinks no one’s paying attention. You both fall into it like gravity’s pulling you, and for a while, it’s enough. Enough to have her behind closed doors, enough to know that, at least in those quiet moments between just the two of you, she’s yours.
But it’s also nothing like what you’d imagined all those years, lying in your own bed staring at the ceiling, wondering what it’d be like to have her next to you for real. It’s not perfect—it can’t be, not when everything has to be hidden. You’re still her best friend in public, the girl she spends all her time with, the girl who knows her better than anyone else. But not the girl she kisses when the cameras aren’t flashing, not the girl she pulls close when no one’s looking.
Those moments belong only to the nights when her guard is down, when her walls crumble and she lets you in, just for a few hours. It’s messy, but you’ve always known it would be. Aitana is nothing if not a contradiction—so sure of herself on the pitch, so certain of what she wants when it comes to football, but with this—with you—she’s hesitant. Insecure, even, and it’s a side of her you’re still learning how to navigate.
It’s late one night after another exhausting match, and she’s already taken her shower, her hair damp against the pillow as you lie beside her. Her apartment smells faintly of eucalyptus from the diffuser she never turns off, and the air between you feels heavy, like it always does after sex. Like there’s something unsaid just hanging there, but neither of you is brave enough to say it.
She’s resting her head on your chest, one arm draped lazily across your stomach, her fingers tracing absent patterns against your skin. And for a moment, everything is perfect. Just her and you, tangled together in her too-big bed, your bodies sore but comfortable in the way that only comes with familiarity. You feel her breath against your neck, steady and soft, and you close your eyes, trying to commit every second of this to memory. These are the moments you live for now.
But then she speaks, her voice low and hesitant, and you know what’s coming before she even says it.
“You know we can’t tell anyone, right?” Her fingers stop moving, and she lifts her head to look at you, her expression unreadable in the dim light. “Not yet”
It’s not the first time she’s said it, and it won’t be the last. You’ve had this conversation before, too many times to count. But each time, it feels like a fresh wound, like she’s cutting into you all over again with that same blunt blade. You want to tell her that it hurts, that it tears you apart every time she introduces you to someone as “just a friend” or dodges questions about her love life in interviews, leaving you wondering what it would feel like to be acknowledged, even just once.
But you don’t say that. You won’t. Because you know she’s scared. Scared of what it means, scared of what people will say, scared of admitting to herself that she’s not the person she thought she was. And you love her too much to push her. So instead, you nod, keeping your voice steady even though your chest feels like it’s caving in.
“Yeah, I know”
She sighs in relief, dropping her head back to your chest, her body relaxing against yours again. And just like that, the conversation is over. She’s yours again—for now, at least.
But there are moments, moments when the secret feels too heavy, too suffocating, and you don’t know how long you can keep carrying it without cracking under the pressure. It happens one day after a game, when the whole team goes out to celebrate a win, and you’re sitting at the bar, nursing a beer and trying to keep your distance. Because that’s what you do now. You keep your distance. You stay just close enough to be there for her, but never close enough to make anyone suspicious.
Aitana’s across the room, talking with a group of teammates, laughing at something Alexia says, and for a second, it’s like she forgets you’re even there. She’s in her element, charming and confident, the version of herself you’ve always admired. And when someone asks her about dating—probably joking, probably not thinking twice about it—you watch her laugh it off, deflecting like she always does.
“No, I’m not seeing anyone,” she says, so casually, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Like you don’t exist. Like the nights you’ve spent together, wrapped up in each other, mean nothing.
It hits you harder than it should. Harder than it ever has before. And you know it’s not fair to feel like this—it’s not fair to her, and it’s not fair to you. You knew what this was when you started, knew that it wasn’t going to be easy. But that doesn’t make it hurt any less.
You drain the rest of your beer, the bitterness burning your throat, and get up to leave before anyone notices. Before she notices. You can’t sit there and watch her laugh and flirt with other people, pretending like she’s not going to go home with you tonight. Pretending like she’s not yours.
When you’re halfway to the door, you feel her hand on your arm, and you stop, turning to face her. She looks up at you, her expression soft, her eyes wide and questioning.
“Where are you going?” she asks, her voice low enough that no one else can hear. “You’re not leaving, are you?”
“I’m tired,” you say, not bothering to hide the edge in your voice. “I think I’ll head home”
Aitana frowns, her hand still on your arm, like she’s not ready to let you go yet. Like she can feel the shift, the tension simmering just beneath the surface. “I thought we’d—”
“I know,” you cut her off, not wanting to hear it. Not wanting to hear her try to make this okay when it’s not. “I’ll see you later, okay?”
You pull away from her, walking out into the cool night air, your heart pounding in your chest. You need space. You need air. You need time to remember why you’re doing this, why you’re putting yourself through this, why you keep coming back to her even when it hurts.
And later, when you’re lying in your own bed, staring up at the ceiling again, you remind yourself of all the reasons why. The way she looks at you when no one’s watching. The way she holds you close at night, like she’s afraid you’ll disappear. The way she whispers your name in the dark, her voice soft and vulnerable in a way it never is around anyone else.
She’s worth it, you tell yourself. She’s worth the pain, the hiding, the pretending. Because you have her. Maybe not in the way you always dreamed, but you have her.
-
It’s an away game in Seville, the kind where the atmosphere is tense but electric, the city vibrating with the weight of the upcoming match. The hotel isn’t much, just another chain where the carpets smell faintly of stale cigarettes and overuse. You’re in one of those rooms that looks exactly the same as all the others, sterile and impersonal—off-white walls, a single window overlooking the car park, a television bolted to the wall like an afterthought. But right now, none of that matters.
Aitana’s there with you, her back pressed against the cheap headboard, her hair a tangled mess around her face. She’s just come out of the shower, skin still damp and smelling like hotel soap, and there’s something reckless in her eyes tonight, something unspoken simmering between you both. There’s always been that quiet, dangerous tension with her, like you’re both walking a line neither of you knows how to stay on.
You hadn’t planned for this. Maybe you never plan for it. It’s just a hunger that’s become second nature, something that overtakes you both when you’re alone together, something neither of you can resist. Her lips had found yours the moment the bathroom door clicked shut behind you, the match tomorrow the last thing on either of your minds. You’re supposed to be resting, supposed to be saving your energy for the game, but there’s always this with her, this fever that takes over when you’re in the same room.
It doesn’t take long before you’re pulling her close, her fingers digging into your back, her breath hot against your neck as you press her against the mattress. The room feels like it’s spinning, like it’s just you and her and nothing else matters. And the noise—God, you can’t help the sounds she makes when you touch her, the way she bites back a moan, then gives up, letting it out like a release of all the tension she’s been holding in. The bed creaks beneath you, too loud in the silence of the hotel, but neither of you care. It’s too late to care.
You lose track of time. You lose track of everything except the feel of her beneath you, the way her body responds to yours, the way she whispers your name like it’s the only word she knows. And for that stretch of time—however long it is—she’s yours, wholly and completely. There’s no team, no match, no world outside this room. It’s just her, and you, and the way she looks at you when she lets her guard down, when she lets herself need you.
But then there’s a knock at the wall, followed by a muffled voice that snaps you both back to reality. You freeze, still half-entangled with her, your breath ragged, your heart pounding.
“Oye! Quiet down in there!” someone yells through the wall. The voice is too familiar—Pina, or maybe Patri—it doesn’t matter who it is. The point is, they’ve heard. The walls are paper-thin, you realise, and you hadn’t exactly been discreet.
You scramble off her, untangling yourself from the sheets, and for a moment, the only sound is your own breathing, loud in the sudden silence. Aitana’s eyes are wide, her face flushed, her bare chest rising and falling rapidly, and you can see the panic starting to creep in. Not panic because they know—no, they don’t know who she is. Panic because they think it’s just another random hookup. Another girl you picked up on a whim.
There’s another knock, louder this time, more insistent. “We get it! You’ve got company,” someone calls, laughing now, their voice tinged with amusement. “Didn’t know you’d have a guest tonight”
You let out a breath, already slipping into the familiar role. The one where you play it off like this is nothing. Like this is just another night, just another girl. You’ve done it so many times before—it’s a routine at this point. The jokes, the teasing, the knowing looks from your teammates when they hear about another one of your so-called conquests. It’s all part of the act, the persona you’ve built to cover for what’s really going on.
You flash a quick smile at Aitana, hoping to reassure her, but the look she gives you is anything but reassured. It’s tight, like she’s barely holding it together. You ignore it for now, your mind racing for the right thing to say.
“Yeah, yeah, sorry about that,” you call back, trying to keep your voice light, casual, like you’re not lying through your teeth. “I’ll keep it down. Promise”
There’s more laughter from the other side of the wall, some muttered jokes about your reputation, about your ‘lucky night,’ but eventually it quiets down. They’re not going to press you. They never do. You’ve always been able to laugh it off, always been able to make it seem like none of it matters.
But when you turn back to Aitana, you see the way her eyes have gone dark, her face tight with something that looks like pain, like anger. She’s pulling the sheets up around her, suddenly closed off, like she’s trying to build a wall between you both.
“You okay?” you ask, your voice low, tentative. You reach for her, but she pulls away, sitting up straighter, wrapping the sheet tighter around herself.
There’s a heaviness to the air that wasn’t there before, a weight that settles between the two of you. It’s in the way she’s breathing—slow, measured—like she’s thinking too hard, like she’s bracing herself for something. You glance over at her, half-expecting her to meet your gaze with that teasing smile she always gives after moments like this, but her face is turned toward the ceiling, eyes wide and distant, her lips pressed into a thin line.
“Aitana?” you say softly, your voice barely cutting through the thick quiet. You can feel the tension in your chest start to coil, tight and uneasy.
She doesn’t respond right away, and when she finally does, her voice is quieter than you expect, almost tentative, like she’s not sure how to say what’s on her mind. “You didn’t have to do that,” she says, still staring up at the ceiling, her fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on the sheet.
You frown, sitting up a little, trying to make sense of what she means. “Do what?”
“Cover for me.” She says it so softly, like it’s a secret, like it’s something she’s ashamed of, but not in the way you’re used to. Not the shame of being found out. This is different, quieter, heavier. “I know why you did it, but… you didn’t have to”
You blink, thrown off for a second. “You mean… when they knocked on the wall?”
She nods, slowly, her eyes finally drifting from the ceiling to meet yours. There’s something in her eyes that makes your heart drop, something that feels like guilt, but not the kind that comes from getting caught. It’s the kind that lingers, the kind that’s been building for a while.
“I know it’s stupid,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper now, her fingers still moving in that absent way across the sheets, like she’s trying to distract herself from what she’s saying. “I know it’s just how it is. But… when you said that, when you acted like it was someone else, it just—it felt wrong”
You can feel your chest tighten, the words sinking in, slow and heavy. You want to tell her that you had to, that it’s how you’ve always handled it, that you were just trying to protect her. But the way she’s looking at you now, her eyes soft but resolute, makes you pause. She’s not angry. She’s not hurt, not the way you thought she might be. She’s just… sad. Sad that you feel like you need to keep pretending, like you need to keep covering for her.
“I didn’t think it’d bother you,” you say, and it sounds like an excuse as soon as it leaves your mouth, even though it’s the truth. You’ve done this so many times before, played it off like it’s nothing. It’s always been your way of protecting her, of protecting what the two of you have.
“I know you didn’t.” She sits up then, pulling her knees to her chest, resting her chin on them as she looks at you. Her hair falls over her face, messy and damp, and she brushes it aside absently, not really paying attention to it. “But that’s the thing. You shouldn’t have to. Not anymore”
There’s a beat of silence, the words hanging in the air between you. You sit up straighter, searching her face, trying to understand exactly what she’s saying. You’ve had this conversation before, or at least versions of it. But it’s never felt like this. It’s never felt like it’s this close to something real, something neither of you can take back.
“What do you mean?” you ask, your voice cautious, like you’re afraid to push her too far, to make her retreat behind that wall she’s so good at building.
Aitana lets out a slow breath, her eyes not leaving yours. “I mean… I’m tired of hiding. I’m tired of being a secret. And I’m tired of making you cover for me like you’re ashamed of what we have.” Her voice is steady, but there’s a vulnerability in it that catches you off guard, something raw and exposed. “I don’t want to do that to you anymore.”
You stare at her, your heart pounding, trying to make sense of what she’s saying. You’ve always been the one to take the fall, to laugh off the questions, to keep up the charade. You’ve always thought you were doing it for her—because she wasn’t ready, because she needed more time. But now, sitting here, looking at her, you realize that maybe you’ve been doing it for yourself too. Maybe you’ve been hiding just as much as she has, afraid of what it would mean to actually be out there, to actually be seen.
“Aitana…” you start, but she cuts you off, her voice soft but firm.
“I know it won’t be easy,” she says quickly, like she’s already thought this through a thousand times. “I know people will talk, and it’ll be… hard. But I don’t care anymore. I don’t want to hide us. I don’t want you to pretend like I’m just someone you picked up or some random girl in your bed. I’m more than that. I’ve always been more than that”
The words hit you harder than you expected, and for a second, you don’t know how to respond. You’ve spent so long keeping this part of you hidden, keeping this relationship in the shadows, that the idea of stepping out into the light feels… terrifying. But at the same time, hearing her say it, hearing her admit that she’s ready—that she wants to be open—it makes something inside you shift, something that feels like hope.
“Are you sure?” you ask, your voice quieter now, more careful. You don’t want to push her, don’t want to rush her into something she’s not ready for, even though every part of you is screaming to say yes, to finally stop hiding.
She nods, her eyes steady, her expression soft but sure. “I’m sure.” She reaches out then, her hand finding yours, her fingers threading through yours with a quiet certainty. “I don’t want to hide anymore. Not from them, not from anyone.”
You feel the weight of her words settle over you, and for the first time in a long time, it feels like you can breathe. Like the walls you’ve both built are finally starting to come down.
“I don’t want you to hide either,” you admit, the words coming out easier than you thought they would. And it’s true. You’re tired of pretending too, tired of covering for something that’s real, something that’s yours.
Aitana smiles then, a small, tentative smile, but there’s something bright behind it, something that makes your chest ache in the best possible way. She leans in, pressing her forehead to yours, her breath warm against your lips.
“So… I’ll tell them,” she whispers, her voice barely audible, but filled with a kind of quiet determination that makes you believe her.
“No,” you whisper back, your heart pounding, your hand tightening around hers. “We’ll tell them”
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prettyfastcars · 1 year ago
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He has me by my heart | Mob!Lando x Reader
Summary: Lando is bad for you. You know that, countless people have told you this. But no matter how corrupted, dark, and wicked he was. No matter how possessive, jealous, and insane he could be, almost childishly so. Despite it all, he had you by your heart, and there was no getting away from him. 
Themes: mob!lando, daddy kink, smut, explicit language, possessive!lando, 
a/n: you know those videos of Lando being escorted by police in italy yeahhhh
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You saw it on the news. 
Then again, everyone did. Ever since he was arrested a few weeks ago, people tuned in any moment they could to follow his story. He was well-known, filthy rich, and dangerous. He went against the law a lot. But somehow there was never enough evidence against him that incriminated him. 
Lando had too many loyal servants who were willing to lay down their lives in order to keep him away from being locked up in prison. But a few weeks ago, a couple days after you both broke up after a huge fight, he was arrested. 
Apparently he got into a rather violent fight at some exclusive club. Videos of it circulated around everywhere. And it was the most convicting evidence that had ever surfaced regarding him so the authorities used that to at least lock him up for a little time while they tried to dig up more stuff about him. 
However, that ended up not happening. Lando’s people kept everything clean. Every dirty work happened in the dark with no witnesses. Every skeleton was carefully placed in impregnable closets. So the authorities had no choice but to release him. 
The day of his release, you watched him on TV. How he gloated as the authorities let him go. How he enjoyed the many cameras filming him, taking pictures of him which would later surely spark many conversations in the media. He had always liked the attention. 
Even through the screen you could see it on his face. The arrogance, the smirks, the determined, proud look in his eyes like he was an unchallengeable monarch. He walked to his car, grinning like a king. He was, in many ways. A king in the darker side of life. 
Just then, your phone rang. It was an unknown number. You answered it with your heart racing, part of you already knew who was calling. 
“Hello?” You tried your hardest to sound as unbothered as possible. 
He chuckled from the other side of the call. “Hey princess, missed me?” 
You exhaled shakily, “Lando.” 
He scoffed, “You sound a little out of breath there, baby. Have you been watching me on TV?” He laughed. “You knew they could never keep me locked up for long, didn’t you princess? We talked about this, remember?” 
Oh. So he was doing the thing where he pretended that you two hadn’t had a big fight, said cruel things to each other and decided to go your separate ways. Yet again. 
“Why are you calling me?” You said, “We broke up, remember?” 
He sighed like he was annoyed, “Come on, princess. You know that wasn’t real, right?” He argued. “We were both tired and angry, and we didn’t mean it.” He didn’t even wait for you to respond as he said, “I’m coming over later, and then we’ll talk. Alright, princess? I can’t wait to see you.” 
With that he ended the call. And you were standing there in the middle of your apartment feeling confused. As always. 
When he comes over later, you thought, you’d set everything straight and break up with him for good this time. 
— 
Hours passed. 
You realised you shouldn’t just sit and wait for him. But you were anxious so you couldn’t do anything else other than wait. 
Later in the evening, three knocks at your door signalled that he was here. You stood there for a short while, fresh out of the shower and still in your fluffy robe as you stared at the door. You decided you were going to keep this short. 
He’d walk in, you’d talk, and then you’d ask him to leave. Right? Right. 
But then you opened the door. And there he was, in a fresh suit. His hair was a fluffy, curly mess. He smelt amazing. And that soft, puppy dog look in his blue-green eyes. 
“Hi princess,” He said, already walking in and shutting the door behind him, “I’ve missed you.” 
Your walls came crashing down instantly. You had your arms around him before you even realised it. Your face pushed into the crook of his neck as you shed a few tears and inhaled his familiar scent. Body wash and cologne. 
“I was so scared I would never see you again.” You found yourself mumbling against his skin as he backed you into the closest wall. 
He laughed as you pulled away to wipe your tears, “Babygirl,” He cooed, “You know that would never happen.” He cupped your teary face in his large hands and smiled at you. “Were you worried for me? Hmm?” 
You nodded. He chuckled, leaning in to kiss you. Soft lips against yours, you melted into him. Your back against the wall, your fingers tangled in his hair while he moaned shamelessly into the kiss… playfully biting your lips. 
“I’ve missed you so much, princess.” His hands wandered, undoing the knot at the front of your robe. He let out a strained groan when he finally felt your warm skin. He whispered between messy, hungry kisses, “Daddy missed you so much.” 
He pulled away to look at you. You couldn’t help but notice the way his lips were now fuller. Fuck, he was your weakness. 
“Missed this mouth,” He whispered while tracing your lips with the tip of his finger. His mere touch was driving you insane. So much so that you dropped down to your knees even before he asked you to. 
Lando looked down at you with pride in his eyes and a devilishly handsome smirk on his face. “That’s my good girl,” He said breathlessly, caressing your cheek gently as he watched you undo his zipper and pull down his briefs. 
His cock stood proud and tall in front of you. Your mouth watered shamelessly at the sight of it. Thick and big, you realised you’d missed him just as much. Your hands instinctively wrapped around his length and you placed the tip against your lips, kissing it and feeling the pre cum coating your lips. 
Lando hissed in pleasure as you pushed him into your mouth, taking in the tip and swirling your tongue around him. 
“I missed your fucking mouth, babygirl…” 
He whispered your name under his breath, his hand holding your head and guiding you up and down his cock. His taste drove you crazy. As did the sounds which left his mouth.
You intended on making him come hard and fast. 
“Fuck…,” He moaned again, right before coming undone all over your tongue. “You did so good, princess.” 
You looked up at him, still kneeling on the cold floor. You’d missed this too. 
“Stand up,” He ordered. And when you did, he leaned in to kiss you again. Rougher this time, more demanding as he pulled you away from the wall and guided you over to your living room. He grabbed your face gently by the chin and said, “Can you go make daddy a drink, princess?” 
You nodded immediately. Lando smiled, kissing you briefly on the lips before smacking you gently on the butt as you walked over to the mini bar to make him a drink. You watched him the whole time you poured his whiskey in a glass. 
You watched how he got rid of his suit jacket, unbuttoned his white shirt and plopped down on the couch. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes for a moment. He looked like he was at peace. So much so that you almost hesitated before you gently touched his face to get his attention. 
Lando smiled at you as he took the glass from you first, then pulled you onto his lap. Palms gently caressing his smooth chest, you admired your man. His beard seemed coarse you realised as you stroked his cheek. You wondered whether it would feel rougher in between your thighs. 
Judging by the smirk on his face, Lando thought of the same thing as he sipped on his drink. And his hooded eyes silently promised you ‘later’. His free hand rubbed up and down your exposed thigh, until he reached in between your legs. 
He shamelessly watched how his fingers softly rubbed your throbbing clit. You whimpered softly, grinding against his hand on his lap. 
“Who took care of you while I was away?” He asked. 
You knew what he meant. Jealous, territorial, over protective man that he was. 
“No one,” You answered, whining as he slid a finger inside you.
He swallowed all of the whiskey and leaned in to kiss you again. He kissed down your neck, and all while slowly fingerfucking you he whispered along your collar bones, “If I find out someone touched you while I was gone I’m gonna do terrible,” He licked and bit your skin mid-sentence, “horrible things to them.” He left marks on your skin, marking his territory. “And I’ll make you watch.” 
You couldn’t help the unexpected giggle that escaped your lips. “No one touched me,” You assured him. “I took care of myself.” You added. 
Lando pulled away from your skin smirking like the handsome devil he was. “Yeah?” He insisted, “Show me how.” 
You gave him a shy smile. 
“Come on,” He said. “Show me how you touched yourself while I was away.” 
So you gave him a little show. Still on his lap as you touched yourself, like you did almost every night when he was gone. Even when you were angry at him, nothing else got you off like the memories of the moments you both spent under the covers.
Lando leaned back for a minute, his hands lazily rubbing up and down your thighs while he carefully followed your finger as it dipped in and out of your wet hole. His eyebrows furrowed everytime you moaned or let out a wanton gasp. 
He grabbed your thighs tightly each time he had to hold back from shoving your hands away to touch you. His shameless stare urged you to keep going. Lando was almost just as breathless as you were when you brought yourself to the edge, slowing down and not wanting to come just yet. 
“Please…” You murmured, removing your hand away and looking into his dangerously pretty eyes. “Please,” You begged again
He looked up at you and smirked. He knew what you wanted. You wanted him to make you come. His smug grin widened before he taunted, “Aww what is it, princess? Your fingers don’t feel as good as daddy’s?” He cooed, “Hmm? You want daddy to make you come, don’t you?” 
You nodded quickly. Lando just smirked and shook his head. Then before you knew it, you were being pushed down onto the couch. You laid on your back while he hovered above you. You could feel the metal chain around his neck just barely brushing against your chest. 
“It’s okay, babygirl.” He whispered, his face inches above yours. “Daddy’s here now.” He said before leaning in to kiss your lips. His tongue gently stroking your lower lip, then his mouth trailed downwards, kissing your neck, your collar bones down to your breasts, licking and kissing and leaving behind his marks on your skin.
Your body felt hot. Burning under him as he took his time and kissed every inch of your skin. “Missed you,” he whispered as he pressed kisses down your chest. 
Within seconds his fingers found their way in between your legs again, carefully parting your wet folds before slipping inside you. 
He asked, “Do your fingers feel this good, princess?” Lando leaned in again, and kissed along your jaw while his fingers stroked you gently. “I bet they don’t.” 
You whined and squirmed and you wanted more. You threw your head back and whined loudly, you felt your walls clench around his fingers. 
He smirked, feeling it too. “Oh? You wanna cum, is that it?” he leaned in closer, whispering against your mouth, “You want it so bad, don’t you princess?” he teased, chuckling darkly.
You moaned, and whined and tried your hardest to keep quiet but you ended up being loud anyways. His touch, his stare, his words… “Look at you,” he whispered, kissing and biting down on your skin occasionally as his fingers took you higher. “So perfect for daddy.” 
He bit down on your neck as you squirmed, moaning shamelessly. 
“Come for me, babygirl.” 
You did. Welcoming the sweet pressure in between your legs and you came with a loud cry all over his fingers, coating them with your arousal and making him hiss and swear at the sight of you so beautifully dishevelled. 
He had missed this indeed. 
“You’re all mine,” Lando said. 
You were still recovering from your previous orgasm that you didn’t realise his mouth was on you again, the lower half of his face completely submerged in between your legs, which were on each of his shoulders as his tongue tasting you shamelessly, eagerly. 
“Fuck,” He moaned against your wetness. The sound of it making you shiver. 
His tongue slipped past your folds and teased your entrance, occasionally flicking your sensitive clit mercilessly. Your hands immediately gripped his messy, curly hair and tugged gently at his roots. 
“You taste so good, princess.”
You whimpered under his touch, feeling his faintly rough stubble rubbing against your soft skin. It burned a little, but you enjoyed each and every second of it and craved for more. His mouth felt good. 
“Fuck… Lando,” You moaned out loud as your back arched off the couch for just a moment, your eyes closing and your head leaning back as you felt a wave of intense pleasure wash over you. 
“You’re gonna cum for me, is that it, hmm?” He whispered and got back to teasing your clit with his warm and wet tongue, relishing your taste.
“Please, please….” You murmured. He chuckled, his warm breath fanning your wet folds.
“Come on, ask nicely.” He whispered, biting down on your hip bone before kissing his way back to your clit.
“Please daddy,” You whined, looking at him with pleading eyes. “Please, can I come?” 
His smirk meant that he was satisfied. “Of course you can, princess.” He murmured. “Come all over daddy’s tongue.” 
Lando got back to eating you out like it was the only thing he ever wanted to do. The pressure in between your legs was building up nicely. So with a few more strokes of his tongue, you let go and came all over his face. 
The waves of pleasure which washed over you were so intense that you teared up as you came, grinding your hips against his waiting mouth. And Lando lapped up whatever you gave him. He couldn’t get enough. 
When he finally pulled away to let you breath for a moment, he kissed your thighs, admiring the pretty mess that you were. 
“You’re so fucking beautiful, princess,” he whispered, looking down at you. “All mine.” He had that feral look in his eyes. Shameless, and raw. Passionate, and unrestrained. He wanted you and he wasn’t hiding it. “Get on your hands and knees.” He ordered. 
You did as he asked. You knelt on the couch, holding onto the back while he stood behind you surely admiring your ass as your back faced him. 
Lando trailed a finger lazily up your spine before sliding his fingers around your neck. He gripped your throat gently, and tightened his grip just enough so he got your full attention. His lips hovered over the side of your throat and his other hand reached around and toyed with your clit, his fingers making you tremble.
You could feel his erection pressing against your butt. And your heart raced in anticipation.
“Daddy missed this pussy, princess.” He whispered into your ear, his fingers teasing your clit until you were embarrassingly wet for him. “I know you missed daddy’s cock, didn’t you? Hmm?” 
You whined in response as his tongue licked along your neck. 
His hand gripped your throat, eliciting a loud moan out of you. “Answer me, babygirl.” He said. “Use your words and tell daddy you want his cock.” 
His fingers left your clit as he undid his trousers again, grabbed you by the hips and aligned his cock to your entrance. Pushing against it just enough to make you lose your mind but not enough. 
Damn him. He knew just what to do. How to play you to get you to do exactly what he wanted. You pushed back against him, desperately craving friction, as you whimpered, “Please daddy, I want your cock. Please…” 
He chuckled. “There’s my good girl.” He praised and gripped the sides of your hips tighter. He pushed into you with ease, earning a sinful moan out of you. 
Lando groaned as he filled you up entirely, your ass cheek pressing into his pelvic bone as he buried his cock into you. Your knuckles gripped the back of the couch tightly as you felt the familiar pressure forming again in no time, given you were already so sensitive and sore from before.
You were barely able to think straight. You’d missed him. You’d missed this way too much. Having him right now gave you a high you did not quite comprehend but you were grateful for it. 
“So fucking good… princess…” Lando spoke in a haze, and you barely heard him as the only thing you focused on was how good he felt, sliding in and out of you. His cock stretching you out each time he fit it snugly inside you. 
He felt it too. He relished the sounds your bodies made together. The careless moans he earned out of you, how wet and ready you were for him. How perfectly you clenched around his cock. Your soft, often loud, whimpers and his groans of pleasure. 
“I dreamt of this perfect, warm pussy the whole time I was locked up in there, you know that, princess?” Lando pounded into you like his life depended on it. Stretching you out and filling you up each time he rammed his cock into your entrance. 
You could feel the soreness his touch would leave behind, and you didn’t care. But fuck… his dirty mouth only made him hotter. 
“The only that kept me going was knowing that I’d come home to you and fuck you like this,” He whispered, and you felt his cock throb against your walls. You tightened around him, feeling your orgasm so close that you almost shed tears again. 
Lando kept mumbling in the throes of pleasure, “Like you were made for me, for this cock…” He trailed off, moaning in that boyish way that only made you want to come harder. “It’s all you’re good for, isn’t it, babygirl? Hmm?” 
Right there… you were tight on the edge, ready to let go…
But just as you were, he pulled out and flipped you around. You were on your back again, looking up at him. His roughness only turning you on even more. 
He smirked when he saw that look of uncontained desire on your face. “Not so easily, princess.” He chuckled. “Daddy spent all this time away from you. So it’s only fair that now you beg for my cock.” He parted your legs, and settled in between them again, his cock slipping inside you once again. “Beg for me.”
When he saw that you didn’t, his fingers wrapped around your throat once more. “I said,” he growled, “beg.”
Your lips parted as you gasped, giving in. You’d do anything for him you realised. 
 “Daddy please… please make me cum…” you whined, “I missed you so much, I need you-,” you cut yourself off, moaning wantonly as he began fucking you hard and fast again.
He grunted and moaned shamelessly right in your ear and the sound sent shivers down your back. Your legs started to shake as he quickened his pace. He pounded into you incessantly. 
You stared into his eyes, tears escaping your eyes, lips swollen and bruised, neck littered with his bite marks, and your eyes just as wild and passionate as his. His messy hair, that dangerous way of his, his reckless nature, that annoying arrogance, his pride was his fatal flaw and yet… Oh fuck you loved him. 
Lando smirked, leaning in to whisper against your mouth, “Daddy loves you more, princess.” 
Well, guess you said it out loud then. 
“You belong to me, don’t you? Hmm?”
“Yes.” You gasped. “Please, daddy can I-” 
The pleasure was too much and you couldn’t hold back anymore. So, you came all around his cock, moaning and squirming. Your fingers scratching his neck, your arms holding him tight like he was your lifeline. He was, in more ways than one. 
Lando moaned out loud when he felt your walls pulsating violently around him. His thrusts became irregular as he came right after you, filling you up again. “Fuck,” He groaned, his voice a little hoarser. “Fuck, princess.” He sighed, putting his whole body weight onto you for a moment. He nuzzled your neck and left soft kisses along your skin. 
You let him rest for a moment, mindlessly playing with his hair. You almost laughed thinking about how your initial plan was to kick him out of your life, forever. But deep down you knew, you could never get rid of Lando. 
No matter how corrupted, dark, and wicked he was. No matter how possessive, jealous, and insane he could be, almost childishly so. Despite it all, he had you by your heart, and there was no getting away from him.
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starsworldd · 1 year ago
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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐚𝐮𝐫𝐮𝐬-𝐒𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐢𝐨 𝐚𝐱𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐬
PLEASE READ:
long post - thank you for 2k! i apologize for the wait but this took me a longggg time to prepare.
it’s also important to note that planets in taurus/scorpio will effect how you resonate with the interpretations below
reminder that readings are open! i’m now selling persona chart readings of planets/angles as well
take with a grain of salt
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1st (scorpio) - 7th (taurus)❤️: relationships are a source of comfort and wisdom. scorpio risings’ experience of reality has to do with trust, hard truths, and taking back your power but their relations with others often bring a sense of peace and value into their lives. people may perceive you to be useful and smart in these similar qualities as well. your partnerships help to balance out the chaos and even insecurity you face at times with your identity and precense in the world
2nd (scorpio) - 8th (taurus) ❤️‍🔥: you are powerful in your resources/skills and in the way you support yourself overall. in this lifetime, how you find worth and appreciation for yourself and what you have (skills, physical resources, etc…). you may feel suppressed or face much controversy for what you value or for how you choose to support yourself monetary-wise or as a person. your biggest comeback story in life may have to do with self-esteem and with how you accumulate worth and value (physical or moral/mental) into your life and goals.
although there may be much turbulence and important realizations/truths that are found in how you support yourself and your goals, the transformations and scary things you face in life ironically enough can bring you lots of support if you choose to make good use out of it (which taurus is naturally good at). of course, this is the house of fears and traumas so a big part of your life story may include building your own sense of independence by learning from times of distress.
3rd (scorpio) - 9th (taurus) 💋: you could be especially sensitive to input from others and be able to pick up undertones and double meanings from others easily. communication, creativity (especially having to do with hands or written words), is your superpower. you grab others’ attention easily with your stories and artistic output when you learn to harness your fears/limitations effectively. this also makes you very intelligent of your community + gossip because scorpio rules over extremes as well
while in your everyday communication and daily life you may uncover and discuss skeleton’s in other people’s closet and may be doing a lot of activities that use a lot of your energy (scorpio is ruled by mars, planet of action), this makes you very comfortable (taurus) in being able to adapt to different environments and perspectives (9th house). having taurus in this house can make someone very wise because they find value and meaning in variety.
4th (scorpio) - 10th (taurus) 💄: people with scorpio in this house have usually had some sort of significant event or trauma regarding their family or childhood or may have regrets as to their actions in the past. these people could be born out of either extreme poverty or wealth too. these people’s sense of safety/privacy can be very important to them or they could feel like this aspect of their life is being compromised often (mars = conflict) but you could also find safety/comfort in curiousity or things that are “off-limits”.
if the private/emotional life of the native is exacerbated and transformative for them the career and reputation for the native is where they feel appreciated and most creative. having these signs in this house-axis can be indicative of a strong comeback story (extreme poverty to extreme wealth or even the other way around). the career-field can be very fulfilling (emotionally or monetary wise) and where you are grateful or feel lucky for the events your work presents.
5th (scorpio) - 11th (taurus) 🌹: feelings of creativity, romance, and happiness are taken to extreme lows and highs throughout life. if you’re a cancer rising, i believe this is where the “moody” reputation for us comes from. like leo rising, there could have been significant changes or revelations during childhood that changed your way of deriving happiness and familial support. these people may crave for luxury and overindulgence and can do so by turning their pain into power. scorpio in this house can make someone very grateful as well.
if our sense of happiness and luck undergoes significant change and gives us our “comebacks” throughout life, the 11th house is where we have already found peace and prosperity with our place in society. we encounter valuable experiences when polishing our individualism (5th) within our community (11th). we can find personal contentment and growth in accepting our individual, unique role amongst the people around us. you may like to surround yourself with confident people as well.
6th (scorpio) - 12th (taurus) 👠: these people can feel very unlucky or trapped throughout life, with the 6h ruling bad luck + burdens and scorpio relating to extremes. scorpio is a smart zodiac i’ve noticed as well, so these people usually have a certain way (especially that requires much energy) of doing their work and job that could defy others’ expectations. extreme focus on a certain obstacle or insecurities is also possible and can take awhile to finally figure out what makes you feel secure and satisfied with how you manage your burdens.
if your everyday burdens and responsibilities test your strength to the max in this lifetime, your imagination, creativity and solitude is where you find peace. it could also be that these people do unusual things to satisfy their need for pleasure and wholeness, because the 12th house is where we are easily misled. these people are internally comfortable with their thoughts and ideas, regardless of how odd they may be because it takes them to a place of stability from their scorpio 6h.
7th (scorpio) - 1st (taurus) 🍒: these natives’ partnerships/commitments make the native have to look more deeply into their underlying intentions or feelings with said partnerships/commitment. this can bring a lot of disturbing but also very eye-opening and insightful experiences that affects the native’s identity and ambitions going forth. scorpio can also be a curious sign so there can be a little bit of investigative or persistent approach to your partnerships and this is where your power can derive from.
it may seem like your partnerships “destroy” parts of your identity, because you approach the world from a sense of wholeness and peace. at least, these are circumstances that you are ambitious to achieve in your life. pleasure and steadiness are big life themes and at first it may seem like life is rather dull or boring, but similar to scorpio in its opposite function, taurus asks us to dig a little deeper into the simpler things in life and to find enjoyment.
8th (scorpio) - 2nd (taurus) 🍫: when dealing with other people’s problems (financially, intimate connection, debts, etc…) it brings about experiences that require you to fix what’s wrong or holding you back in life in rather uncomfortable ways. this can indicate someone who is afraid to acknowledge psychological blockages or who lacks the necessary bravery/instincts to attack underlying problems. you could earn valuable assets (tangible or not) from others when you engage with activities that are “gross” but healing/heroic.
this native survives on feeling complete. having a sense of wholeness is very important to these people and makes these people very resourceful because they are able to make the seemingly mundane valuable and able to work in their favor. these people are good at feeling in control of their life, future, and choices because they are committed and secure in their abilities. these people place much importance on authenticity, diversity, and self-sufficiency.
9th (scorpio) - 3rd (taurus) ❤️: when achieving mastery/global knowledge, and self-discovery it may have to do with bringing up topics that you ignored or swept under the rug especially having to do with your identity/precense (in context of the world and society). your global approach and experiences have to do with dealing uncomfortable topics in order to achieve better awareness and understanding of all aspects of the world. how you navigate foreign environments and your sense of flexibility is your strength.
if foreign experiences provide you with strength through perseverance, your intuition and familiar environments provide you with strength through growth (tangible or not). although it may seem like the everyday social rituals and ideas (including intuition), can appear mundane, this setup of houses gives an opportunity to grow a garden that provides roots, beauty, and good taste in the way you perceive and express yourself local environments.
10th (scorpio) - 4th (taurus) 🪭: these people have to have a ton of intiative when working in their career and towards their big goals in life. it may feel as though these people have to start from a bad hand of cards (compared to everybody else) in order to make it to the top or that their working conditions and/or responsibilities throughout life may feel difficult to complete or deals with high stakes/status. but even though there are difficult tasks they have to be done and you have drive/resourcefulness to do it!!
if the workplace is where you see the thorns in your garden (where you have to get rid of them) your home life and condition is where you see the roses. taurus is good at being able to attract good circumstances for themselves because taurus is very representative of wholeness and the feeling of completion. there’s probably more opportunities for you to setup and manage your domestic life the way you like. wisdom may be found through your domestic life too.
11th (scorpio) - 5th (taurus) 🧨: your surrounding communities/people who support you seem to try to pick you apart. you may feel as if the people who you’re around with don’t actually support you or that there’s something incomplete or “wrong” with the circumstances and people that made you successful, imposter syndrome possibly? your supporters/friends could show you things you couldn’t see before, likely for the better although they may reveal this in dramatic or difficult circumstances.
if you feel incomplete about the people/circumstances that support your public achievements, your creativity and lust for life is where you find contentment. these people feel most stable and appreciated for their talents and way of enjoying themselves. for these people, they find stability, growth, and satisfaction when they engage with activities that bring them happiness. they find beauty and appreciation from others for their self-expression/creatvity.
12th (scorpio) - 6th (taurus) ♠️: your drive to feel complete is what can you mislead you in life. this may be because you feel as if there’s always something missing or not being to shown to you but you are persistent in finding what that something is. this same energy can make the native very wise because they have to overcome their demons over and over again throughout life. but at the same time, you could also feel like your sense of resourcefulness and strength fails to manifest in reality.
if there’s conflict/determination in trying to protect yourself from things that induce bad energy, then there’s likely to be tranquility and acceptance in doing activities that can put your life back on track. the 6h is known as the house of bad fortune in astrology so these people are good at being able to find the most reliable way out of a difficult situation. and while these natives could be good at finding solutions, slacking off and overindulgence can lead to oversight with tasks.
once again thank you for 2k!
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hope you enjoyed🥰
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gay-dorito-dust · 8 months ago
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This can be consisted the prologue of the series, a little taste test or something…
Warning: men being men and not listening and paying the price for their stupidity.
You didn’t know how you did it.
You really didn’t, and it currently wasn’t as if you were actively trying either! You had been running for a while now after catching the unwanted gaze of some unsavoury characters before running as fast as your legs could to get out of sight, only to find yourself somewhere and staring into the large eye of a dragon.
This was no ordinary dragon because from just it’s eyes alone you could tell that this one was a lot bigger than most, possibly as large as Vaghar but the cave had been proven far too dark to get a good look of the rest of its body.
Or the reason you can’t see the rest of its body is because its head is so large it’s all you can see. That little voice in your head told you as the cold feeling of dread crept up your back, thought of standing in front of something far larger than you didn’t sit right with your feeble human mind as you swallowed thickly.
One thing that you were for certain about and that was the potent stench of rotting corpses however and blood that stung your eyes with how horrid the smell was the moment you had rushed into the massive cavern on impulse to find safety. It wasn’t until your eyes has caught a glimpse of the skeleton of a dragon, one of which that was far, far smaller than the one you in front of you, followed by a skeleton of a human did realisation hit you.
You had found Cannibal, one of the largest dragon to ever exist, the very same dragon you’ve heard plenty stories about as a kid. Stories of how many people tried to claim the behemoth, only to end up within the dragon’s stomach and even more stories of how Cannibal would even hunt and kill other dragons for sustenance.
You didn’t understand why people would still try to claim him, knowing well enough of the fate that awaits them, but still pressing on regardless in hopes that one of them would be lucky enough to make history by becoming Cannibal’s first ever rider. It was stupid to think such a thing when it had been proven time and time again that Cannibal simply didn’t wish to be ridden and left alone in peace but kept having it being disrespected by people fuelled by their own personal agendas.
Cannibals eye remained on you the entire time, watching you as though trying to read your next move. The behemoth of a dragon seemed to recognise that you knew of him and his reputation, but didn’t dare move to attack you like you thought he would. The question on your mind were between him trying to lure you into a false sense of security or was he trying to gauge whether you’d break first and run?
You respected dragons becuase they were far smarter then you’ve been lead to believe, beings that harboured endless fires within their bellies, and have lived long enough to recognise the changes within Westeros from the one they’ve arrived to a long time ago. They fascinated you all the same but something about Cannibal has fascinated you the most, however you valued yourself in knowing that it was better to admire the beast from afar rather then up close; much like you were right now.
‘I’m sorry.’ Were the first words that came out of your mouth in a flurry as you bowed lowly before the dragon, tensing when you felt Cannibal’s hot breath wash over you, it reeked badly of blood but your fought your urge to gag as the scent as though your life depended on it because it did. ‘I didn’t- I wasn’t aware that you resided here. I’ll leave.’ You told the dragon as it merely watched you back away with a peculiar look in its eye, all the while you tried to prevent yourself from stepping and tripping on old bones of both human and dragon, not once ever breaking eye contact with Cannibal for a single second.
However once you were close enough to the entrance of the cavern, you heard the voices of the very people you had ran away from in the first place and felt yourself as though trapped between a rock and a hard place; either die by dragonfire or by the hands of fellow humans?
‘Where did they go?’ A voice sounded close by the entrance of the cave, causing your breath to catch in your throat as you found yourself frozen in place.
‘They ran off into this cave, the stupid cunt.’ Another voice called, cocky and arrogant as two men appeared in your only way out, their faces were casted in shadows but you could feel their stares and their growing smirks once they saw you.
‘There you are.’ One sang, steeling forward but you immediately took a step back, feeling Cannibal’s hot breath at your back once more.
‘I wouldn’t come closer if I were you.’ You tried warning them as you could sense that Cannibal was getting annoyed, you didn’t know Joe you knew what Cannibal was feeling but you just assumed that the dragon wouldn’t like the additional company of two men who reeked of piss.
‘Oh? And why’s that?’ The other said as he too stepped into the cave, causing you to take another step back.
‘There’s a dragon in this cave.’ You said and the two men stopped their advances to look at each other for a moment before bursting out into a fit of laughter. ‘A dragon? Here? You’re having a laugh!’ They were crying tears of laughter now and you’ve never felt more helpless in that moment. ‘I’m serious! There’s a dragon in this cave and he’s going to kill you!’ You cried as you could feel Cannibal practically hovering over you now as you internally begged the beast for mercy and forgiveness for being these men into his home.
‘Oh I’m so scared!’ One of the men said, nudging his friend. ‘You hear that? We’re going to die according to this little cunt.’
His friend snorts. ‘They’re lying, let’s grab them before they attract anymore attention.’ He said before bringing his attention back towards you as he and his friend began to advance on you once more. ‘Come here you lying little-‘ before he could finish his sentence, a wave of dragonfire consumed both men in their entirety until there was nothing more then charred corpses.
You looked over your shoulder towards Cannibal who huffs at you as if to say you’re welcome.
‘Thank you.’ You told him, only for the dragon to huff again, leaning his head down to nudge you with his snout towards the entrance of the cave, urging you to take your leave before wandering back further into his cave until you couldn’t see him anymore.
This wasn’t what you at all had expected from this outcome, not one bit.
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heavysighing-dreamyeyes · 9 days ago
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A Specter
Jason Todd is once again more or less an unreliable narrator (and a little dramatic, but he gets a pass for dying) ~1k
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Jason Todd wakes up from death drowning, his lungs burning out of his chest. When he breaks the water, he will cough out sickening green that will claw its way into his nightmares. He will dig his jagged nails into the ground and gasp for air he is not meant to be breathing.
And when that is all said and done, he will only have one thought on his mind. Where are you.
Jason Todd rejoins the world as nothing more than a poltergeist. He haunts back alleys and rattles skeletons in the closest of anyone stupid enough to get in his way. He is a wraith, his visage screaming with nothing more than vengeance and bloodshed.
That is, until the night ends and his mask is left clattered to the floor of his barren safehouse. And then he will think of nothing but you.
It's pathetic, to be so attached to someone who doesn't even know he's alive. But that's the problem. He's attached. His dreams, when they aren't nightmares, are filled with your laughter and the memory your hand curled into his.
Jason Todd has not moved on from anything. He hasn't moved on from that warehouse. Hasn't moved on from his own incompetence. Hasn't moved on from the betrayal of those who were supposed to love him.
So he doesn't think he should be expected to move on from you. Not when you're the only anchor his lost soul has left. (This is an excuse, one he knows all too well, one he'll never acknowledge)
The thought of you seems to claw at his heels with every step, every breath he takes that isn't intended towards an effort to find you. He knows it would be easy, to find you. All he would have to do is look. But Jason Todd is a name meant for gravestones, and yours is a name meant to be written in light.
So, he cannot imagine, even in his most twisted desires and daydreams, dragging you down to where he rots. To the moments he starts to wonder, if he breathes too heavily– if he coughs too hard in the Gotham smog– will green water leave his lungs instead of air?
Jason Todd does not look for you, content satisfied accepting enough with the memory of you. His own private apparition that manifests into every part of his life.
(He sees your favorite color in the blankets he buys, lingers too long in front of your favorite flowers, orders your favorite foods, even if they were never his own)
He is stuck in his never-ending pattern of revenge that wails of a past still broken– anguished by the weight of things never fixed, words never said. He stares out through the white, glowing eyes of his mask that was made to strike fear and knows that this is all he will ever be.
The people he saves, the good and bad he does, the lives he takes, does not change that he is still drowning. He is still the boy sputtering emerald waters laced with a magic he doesn't understand. He is still the boy who came back to life with only you in his head.
But he is not the boy that held your hand with gentleness and hope. He is not the boy who smiled at you and promised to come home.
He is a ghost. A thing of memories bound to the present by hate and fury. He is wrongness and he is twisted, and he knows that if he did seek you out, he would only darken your doorstep with curses and decay.
So it's very much a problem when you grace his crumbling safehouse of the week with your presence.
He's not sure who tipped you off to where he was, not sure how you even know he's alive. But you're here, and there's nothing he can do but let you inside.
He doesn't remember everything you say. He doesn't even remember if he talks much. He just knows he's choking back that eerie, unnatural water in the back of his throat every time his eyes meet yours.
You shouldn't be here. But you are– were. You brushed your fingers over the back of his hand as you moved to leave. You asked to come back. That he remembers.
And, by whoever is listening, he said yes. He said yes and scribbled an address onto a piece of paper and pressed it to your palm.
He said yes, and he says it again and again, each time you carry yourself into his home that was no better than a morgue– a tomb to hold everything he used to be– he says yes.
You don't seem to care that he has nothing to offer but whispers of something that will never exist again. You do not mind that he is hardly more than false righteousness and thinly veiled wrath. You are fine with the fact that Jason Todd is supposed to be dead, but by some foul trick of fate, he is not.
No, you count him–the waters that made him new– as a blessing. It shocks him, the first time he hears it. Nearly makes him retch.
How could it be a blessing? How could the pain of feeling your bones snap into place, your muscles restitching themselves, your soul fragmenting apart and back together, be a blessing? How could knowing you do not belong and can never belong again be anything more than a blight?
It isn't. It can't be. It won't be.
Until one day– after weeks of pressing papers with scrawled numbers and letters into your palms– your fingers thread into his and then it is.
Something in him settles. Something haunted seems to fade. And not everything is perfect, but there is suddenly more than the past and shattered things. There is more to Jason Todd than an etching on a headstone, a hushed warning in a story.
There is a future, and Jason Todd suddenly finds himself to be more than a passing, vindictive phantom. With your hand in his, what rings in his head, laced with hope and something that was lost now found, is you. As it has been, and as it always will be, it is your memory in his head, your name on his tongue, you, in his heart.
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contentloadingandstuff · 1 month ago
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Relationship Headcanons - Ganyu x Male!Reader
A/N1: This is a new format, and as such, it includes just one character. Do you think it's comprehensive enough, or is there something I missed? A/N2: When I looked for a gif for this one, I found that the gif I used in the "at the dead of night" Ganyu fic is one of the first results when you search up her name. Nice to know I have somewhat of an impact, small as it may be. A/N3: While I was thinking of making a Christmas special, I decided that the best gift for you guys would just be getting posts out more regularly - so I will post them at least twice a week for the next three weeks at the very least. Anyway, happy Christmas, and enjoy!
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Loving Ganyu requires patience and the gentlest approach, but her affection eventually blossoms on its own. She just needs a bit of time and guidance - it's her first time, after all. 
Being a notoriously hardcore worker, at first she'll be absent from home for most of the day. Her work-life balance is completely off the rails, and Ganyu will need all the help she can get in overcoming her centuries old habits. Now she has someone, remind her. Tell her that this special someone cares for her very much and would rather not see her worn out like an old pair of boots each night. 
An important skill you have to teach her is saying the word “no”. “No, I won't accept overtime”. “No, I have plans this evening”. “No, putting the entirety of Qixin paperwork on my shoulders is not ethical or healthy - Ningguang needs more than three secretaries”. In time, Ganyu will find it in herself to set healthy boundaries on how much she works. True, helping Liyue grow and prosper is her passion, but enough is as good as a feast. 
Walk alongside her on this road. Visit her at work, if only to give her a simple kiss on the forehead. Make sure she comes up from the underworld of bureaucracy to the real world. Bring her light snacks. Ask her about her day. Remind her that there is someone waiting for her back home - she will appreciate that beyond words. 
Working for the Liyue Qixing means basically swimming in Mora - especially that Ganyu leads a rather humble lifestyle. She does, however, live in a very nice multi-story house with a large garden in the most scenic part of Liyue Harbor, with a skeleton crew of staff to maintain in her absence (that being most of the time). But besides that, her expenditures are very small and everything she doesn't need or put aside, she donates to charity. 
While having a boyfriend is nice, she would feel much better if she’d be able to refer to you as her husband instead. Especially that she would prefer to save herself for the wedding night, and make your first “proper” time really beautiful and special. Ganyu is also a bit subservient to you, used to the idea that the husband is the head of the house - no matter if she has more money. At the same time, she is happy to be taken care of and protected, so as long as you treat her right, she’ll be comfy. 
While Ganyu isn't one to insist on much in a relationship, she will encourage you to live with her. Her house is big and quite empty… Having you there would liven it up and surely make it much cozier. Coming home to a warm hug and a kiss from her lover is a dream come true…
In terms of past times, well… Ganyu doesn't have much. Her work is her main pastime, or was anyway, and she didn't really see a reason to look for other things to do in her spare time. Just a few conversations with you made her realise that, while you have a broad range of things to talk about, she doesn't quite compete in that regard. Hundreds of years of paperwork made poor Ganyu quite a one-note person, but she will work on that, don't worry. 
And so she will frequently come up with things to do, together. Would you like to go to a museum? Or see a movie from Fontaine? You don't have to go with her, but… It would be really nice if you did!
Have any problems at school or at work? Personal Secretary Ganyu is on the case! She's had lots of experience in all sorts of matters and will gladly put it to use in helping out her favourite person succeed. She's a patient teacher and never raises her voice, no matter how hard it is for you to learn or do something. With her backing you up, nothing is impossible. 
Ganyu, by her own admission, gains weight easily, so while the urge to fatten her up with love and Qixins is huge, she'll be grateful if you hold your horses. Her thoughts always spiral into self consciousness about weight, so it might be a good idea not to include chocolate. However, a more tender approach to her and her beautiful body - with countless kisses and words of affirmation - may change her outlook on herself. If you do get her something to eat, make sure to feed her - she couldn't say no to you. 
Arguments with Ganyu are white crows in your day-to-day life. Being a timid and easy going person, it takes an impossible amount of pressure to make Ganyu lose her composure. If that somehow happens, she will be so upset that her anger will almost instantly fade into tears. She just cannot fight with you. You mean far, far too much for her to be angry. No matter if it's her fault or yours, she will end up apologising for it profusely, hoping to get past this dreadful road bump. Ganyu knows that she is prone to doing this, and will try to be a bit more decisive, only to fail spectacularly. No matter - she trusts you to never abuse that part of her character. 
And don't you dare, Ganyu has to be protected at all costs. 
At home, she’s a quiet and busy presence - even if it happens to be that time of the month. Ganyu doesn’t really struggle with illnesses or bodily discomfort that much, for which she is really thankful to the fates. At most, when afflicted by either, she’ll get extra sleepy and will love some extra cuddles to make the pains go away. 
You are probably the only person in Teyvat that has the right to touch her horns. They are indeed sensitive, but with the right guidance, the feelings of having these caressed are simply divine. Having their horns touched is a very intimate experience for Qilin, and Ganyu is no different. It will always be in bed, cuddled into each other and falling asleep, or while engaging in more lively bedroom activities. 
Ganyu has some friends and family, and they are quite happy to keep an eye on her. Xianyun will make sure that you are a proper man worthy of her disciple’s hand, and when she does confirm that fact, expect to hear all about Ganyu’s early life, as well as past hobbies and habits; knowing them might prove useful even in the present day. She will also make frequent visits, if that’s something you are okay with. Shenhe, on the other hand, will not follow you around per se - not you as a couple, that is. Because she will keep an eye on you. If you ever raise your hand at Ganyu, expect to be skewered and served at the next Lantern Rite’s banquet. But as with Cloud Retainer, if you prove yourself to be a good man, expect the same level of protection for yourself - Shenhe knows that your safety is Ganyu’s happiness, and if anything were to happen to you, her adoptive sister would cry her soul out. 
Zhongli, being Zhongli, will gladly officiate the wedding. 
The secretary is a girl that goes to sleep and wakes up early. She eats healthy and exercises just enough to keep herself from rusting over. Her house is perfectly clean, both thanks to her own efforts and those of her staff, and full of well-tended plants. She's a neat, well-organized and healthy little goat. If it makes you feel bad for your own lifestyle (and it should), Ganyu will be happy to help you care for yourself by cooking healthy meals for you, reminding you of your goals and helping you be consistent. For what? Why, for the delightful moment when you look at yourself in the mirror and finally smile at all the work you have done. Your happiness is her happiness. 
Acts of service are her form of love. If you happen to come home later than her, you'll arrive to a nice bowl of warm soup, held by your dear wife. You casually mentioned that you need to, say, iron your shirt tomorrow? Ganyu's got you - even if she had to wake up that little bit earlier to do it. Maybe you're talking about a difficult achievement in one of your video games? If you teach her how to help, she'll be glad to tune in and grind with you. Whenever you act surprised at her actions, or say that she ‘didn’t have to’, Ganyu will always replay with a kind smile and reassurance - she does it because she loves you. 
She's the most receptive to physical touch. Sometimes things are going badly and the reasons for it are exhausting to put into words. Those days Ganyu would like nothing more than a simple embrace, your hand in hers, a gentle kiss on the forehead. Your touch reminds her that everything will be alright, and that she does not have to brave the world alone anymore. 
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Thanks for reading!
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hminnj · 4 months ago
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Unckuna/reader (he's very dear to my heart), mostly uncle nephew banter tbh, i needa get dividers lowkey, very short lil drabble
-
Sukuna thinks he's lost his mind.
He means it figuratively, obviously. But at this point he's sure he should've physically lost it already.
His nephew- of which he is currently babysitting- is currently on his couch, not a care in the world, half empty family sized bag of chips that was unopened not too long ago (fatface), kicking his feet like an adolescent boy in love, greasy fingers on the remote, and scrolling through youtube shorts on the tv???
Oh and worst of all he forgot to mention, the brat is wearing shoes.
The fact that he's even related to this thing makes him want to kill everyone else in the room and then himself.
"Itadori Yuji..." Sukuna seethes, it takes everything in him to not rip the brat's skeleton right out of his skin. He thinks it would be easy, if only a certain three people would let him (a shame, truly).
Yuji spares him a glance (the disrespect).
"Oh whats up unc"
"And what do you think you're doing?" The older of the two walks over and blocks the view of the tv, glaring down with his hands on his hips.
Yuji stares for a moment before opening his stupid food hole (as Sukuna describes it), "Have you ever seen that one meme, no one looks good from below? Well you're the version where they-"
Sukuna promptly picks him up by his foot, shaking him as a few chip bits fall off Yuji's shirt, "I literally just cleaned the house you freeloading fiend. Have you seen what a mess you've made?"
"You clean the house everyday you freak. Now put me down! I swear I was gonna clean up afterwards anyways." Yuji attempts to wiggle his way out of Sukuna's grip, he gets nowhere (predictably).
"Brat. You don't even know where the vacuum is, were you planning on picking them up one by one?"
"Ugh you're such a housewife, if I didn't know any better I'd assume you- MMM"
The sound of the code being put into the front door quickly stops Sukuna who shoves his free hand into Yuji's face, effectively shutting him up as well.
Sukuna grins when he sees you walk in, holding Yuji as if he were a first place catch for the annual bass fishing competition.
The sight makes you pause and contemplate your life decisions.
"Sukuna... put Yuji down, all the blood's rushing to his head."
Yuji is dropped immediately.
"OWWWWWWWW"
Your eyes trail around the living space and then back to the two children, "Does someone want to explain what's happening? And why there are shoe tracks in my house?" You make eye contact with your husband (who practically regresses 15 years in age when your nephew is around), he looks at you then uses his middle finger to point at Yuji.
Said boy, still recovering on the floor, whines, "Mann why can't I have a cool wine aunt and normal uncle?"
"Yuji if I were a wine aunt I wouldn't even be your aunt. Now are you gonna clean up this mess or should I make you?"
"On it! Whatever you say ma'am!" Yuji scrambles away after saluting and then pops back up from the hallway, realizing something crucial.
"Where are the cleaning supplies again?"
You sigh.
.
Yuji's finished with cleaning when he joins (intrudes, in Sukuna's words) you and his uncle on the couch, another episode of criminal minds running in the background.
You've changed from your work clothes into something more comfortable, snuggled into Sukuna's side as you start, "You know, if Spencer existed in real life I'd consider leaving you for him."
The tattooed man can only cringe in disgust at your behavior, "We're literally married, woman. You would leave me for that??"
He gives you and the tv an incredulous look. You can only giggle at his reaction, "You're like a child sometimes." His disapproval worsens, and you consider continuing to tease him but go with your better judgement (before he decides not to cook dinner, even though he always does anyways).
"I'm sorry hubby, forgive me?" Sukuna scoffs but accepts the affection anyways, he always does.
Yuji's voice interrupts the moment, "Ew you guys are so nasty (his parents are way worse), but speaking of children... when am I gonna get a cousin?"
The young boy can only watch as you two glance at each other then back at him, casually dropping an "Oh, Soon" then moving on completely. It takes him a second to process.
"WHAT."
-
unckuna my love
reblogs & comments are greatly appreciated :]
thank you for reading, have a blessed week
not fully proofread or edited
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dinogoofymutated · 10 months ago
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Hi! so far I've loved everything you've written about Kurt, Logan and Remy. 🧎🏻‍♀️
Could you write something about Kurt? where together with reader they are in the kitchen of the mansion because they can't sleep, and she finally tells him her concerns about the magnitude of her powers and Kurt with his heart of gold tells her beautiful things to calm her down and make her laugh, the rest to your imagination, I would appreciate it, you write great! Thanks 💙✨
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SFW! Nightcrawler/Fem!Reader
Ok so I will admit that I made this a leeetle self indulgent. I was trying to think of a power someone could really struggle with and a fun one that I thought of was having necromancy, but having such respect for life and death that it feels wrong. I thought it would fit well with a Kurt fic because it's something that almost feels sacrilegious, and it's good to have a fuzzy blue elf assure you that you aren't a monster :) I know its def not power ambiguous, but I hope this is okay :)
Also, I know my writing style is a little different in this one, And thats because the first few paragraphs set the tone for my writing when I start and tbh I think this one just flowed from my soul to they keyboard.
TWs: nightmares, necromancy, gross descriptions of rotting flesh. Extreme self-doubt and self-consciousness. Basically angst with a happy ending.
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You’ve been having nightmares again. They hardly seem to stop, but after a break in between the terror, you'd become too relaxed. Too comfortable. You felt defenseless when they started to begin again.
It’s always the same dream, different font. Bones cracking, flesh ripping as it’s forced into place, natural or not. Skin rotting off of once human bodies, sockets where eyes used to be. It was horrifying. You’d see your family, friends, acquaintances, everyone. Dead. Brought back to life by your power, the power you were still so afraid of. You were always afraid of zombie movies as a kid. Anything rising from the dead, anything breathed back to life in some sick and twisted fantasy. It was ironic that your very own strength was the thing you had always been the most afraid of.
Of course, as you aged and the professor took you in, the fear began to wear off. Mostly, it did. The professor not only taught you how to control your powers but also how to work around your fear. You can remember the confusion you felt when he had set a box of ancient bones in front of you. Fragments of titans, dinosaurs who had long since passed. Bones that would never be matched to an accurate set, parts of them being crushed to dust by the cruelty of time. Bones that only you could breathe to life, to bring them together as a whole again. It was convenient, the professor had told you, that you only needed a fragment to do so. He spoke as if it were a service to them. Most importantly, he brought you a box of bones that weren’t, and never had been, human.
He had taken the fear out of your power. Given you an option you had never considered before. Bones without flesh, without living family. Fossils that would serve you as you were serving them. You were… happy, with that. You were content. You could handle bones. You could revive these ancient skeletons without fear, and fight with them without worry. That didn’t change the horror of knowing the capacity your powers had.
    So the nightmares remained, and your sleep had become sparse.
    This particular night you were restless. Unable to sleep despite how tired you have been, but it’s hard to rest when there is only terror waiting behind your eyelids. After a while, you decide to give up trying.
The path to the kitchen is one you have memorized, even in the dark. You’ve always been told never to eat sugar before bed, but the only thing you want to comfort you at this moment is hot chocolate- so screw it.
    You try your best to be quiet while fishing out a pot out of the cabinets. The stove makes a click as you flick it on, filling the pot with milk before stirring it as it warms. The automatic task is comforting, falling into a routine you enjoy. You’ve just added the coco mix when the sound of a *Bamph* greets you.
    “Guten abend.” Kurt whispers, walking over to stand beside you. You give him a tired smile that he returns with a yawn.
    “I’m sorry if I woke you.” You say, face returning to a frown Kurt thinks you wear far too often. Maybe it’s good that he’s here because you realize you made far too much of the sweet drink than you had meant to. You get a mug for him, heart fluttering as his hand brushes your own when he takes it from you, thanking you quietly.
    “You did not wake me, Schatz. I promise.” Kurt says, pulling out a chair for you with his tail as he sits at the table. You nod silently, placing the pot in the sink and filling it with water before you join him, leaning against his shoulder.
    “Did you have another nightmare?” Kurt asks after a moment. His brows are furrowed in concern, and you fail to stop him before he takes a sip from the scalding coco, burning his tongue. He scrunches his nose as he sticks out his tongue, making you giggle for a moment. He thinks your laugh suits you much more than your frown, even if it happens to be at his expense. Your face falls slightly anyway, and he wonders if he could get you to laugh if he did it all over again.
    “...No. Not tonight.” The words come out as less than a whisper, and you doubt he might hear it if it weren’t the middle of the night. Little did you know he’d block the world out if he had to, just to hear you speak a little clearer. He hums in response, and you feel his tail slowly wrap snugly around your waist, the very tip idly stroking you in a comforting manner.
    “...Do you wish to speak about them?” Kurt asks after a moment. You huff slightly, feeling the hot steam from your mug warm your face as you do so. Still too hot, you think to yourself. Flashes of those horrid nightmares come to mind, and no matter how quickly you try to shake them off, they remain. You choose to think of Kurt instead. Sweet, kind, comforting Kurt. You want to bury yourself in his arms, sink into the feeling of his skin, and never let go, if only he would let you. He would without a second thought, if only you had known. You think carefully about your next words, and the visions of flesh and corpses hardly leave you.
    “Am I a monster, Kurt?” You hear a quiet, cut-off gasp from Kurt, and he turns to you. His face is pained, and he sets his mug down to place his hand around your own, still clasped around the hot cocoa. 
    “Of course not. Only a fool would think so.” His words, although comforting, only leave you with a worse sting in your heart. You can’t hold eye contact with him, staring at the reflection in your mug instead. Only a fool would think so. You halfway wonder if you count as a fool, then.
    “I, just… My powers, what I do. What I am capable of doing. It’s not right.” You take a shaky breath in, desperately trying not to break down here and now. “It’s disgusting. It’s horrible. Every time I find myself comfortable with myself I am reminded of what is possible and I spiral. I don’t want it. I don’t-”  
  “Liebling.” You let out a sob at the sound of his voice. Kurt is hunched over, pressing his forehead against your own as he desperately tries to catch your gaze- but you can’t. You can't bear it, and you close your eyes tightly. Kurt takes the mug from your hands. He cups your face as he wipes your tears, and you feel like even more of a monster as he does so. Sobbing as a man with a heart of gold wipes your tears away with love and care.
    “Please, look at me,” Kurt whispers. You try to stop the tears, embarrassed as you fall apart in front of the man you hold so dearly, but it’s hard. It’s so hard. Your chest stings, your throat is sore, you’re sure your nose is running, and yet he still holds you so gently. When your breathing evens out just a bit, you convince yourself to open your eyes again.
    Kurt’s gaze is simply concerned. There is no horror, no disgust, nothing but worry for you. Nothing but kindness. You wonder if you could be even half as good as he is. 
    “You are good. You are kind. You are strong enough to stand by your morals despite the nature of your powers telling you otherwise- and you have the strength to continue to use them and fight your fears anyway. You are one of the most incredible people I have ever met. Do not let your nightmares tell you otherwise.” Kurt’s hold is steady against your cheeks, and your own shaky hands reach up to hold onto his wrists. You sob again as he speaks. You know. You know this. Others have told you, but these words all felt like lies. All but the ones you’re hearing from his mouth. Your tears are slowing, and Kurt leans forward to press a kiss to your forehead, leaving the skin tingling. You whisper quiet apologies for crying, and he shushes each one, gently wiping your face with the soft sleeve of his pajama shirt.
  “I would not be here if I didn’t want to care for you, my love,” Kurt says softly. Your eyes widen, taken aback by his words. He called you many things. Liebling. Schatz. Love. But never my love. The words waken butterflies in your belly, and Kurt takes a moment to realize what he’s said. He swallows nervously, but he doesn’t pull away. You don’t either. The two of you are treading a line that you both desperately want to cross. 
    Kurt is the first to lean in. He does so slowly, toeing the line between you. His gaze remains on your own as he closes the space, nose nuzzling against your own as he gives you the time to back out if you wish. But you don’t. You want nothing more than to have what he is so freely giving. 
    Kurt kisses you softly, lovingly, and for once the horrors have quieted and are cleared from your mind. All there is now is Kurt, and his soft love. He kisses you a second time before he pulls away, still as close to you as he can be without falling out of his chair. You wonder how he can see beauty where all you see is terror. He wonders if you have any clue just how much of a good person you continue to be.
    He knows he would gladly spend the rest of his life showing you.
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galedekarios · 5 months ago
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down among the dead men
i finally finished reading sylvia feketekuty's short story in tevinter nights. sylvia feketekuty is also emmrich's writer in dragon age: the veilguard.
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i wanted to compile what we learn about emmrich in sylvia's short story.
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emmrich likes tea
"What happened then?" the older mage tilted a pot of tea encouragingly toward Audric.
his study is described in detail
Audric shook his head--he didn't feel like tea, particularly--while his eyes soaked in the room. He'd never been in a necromancer's study before. Ornately decorated skulls hung from hooks in the high, dark ceiling. One wall was made up of shelves with books and tiny labeled drawers. The other was fronted by tables full of bubbling flasks, scales, alembics, and tortured-looking glass. A smartly attired servant ground away with a pestle and mortar.
"Excellent question!" Emmrich swirled the tea in his mug, looking entirely too cheerful, Audric thought, for a man framed by so many racks of skulls.
the description of his study in down among the dead men is very, very reminiscent of his room in the lighthouse that bioware revealed a few days ago:
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emmrich may have recreated the comforts of his study in nevarra within the lighthouse.
emmrich lets manfred mix tinctures
"Please, don't mind Manfred." The older mage refilled his own cup. "He'll finish mixing that tincture before you know it." Manfred, a clean-boned skeleton, held up a bowl. Audric read something helpful in the cant of its skull. The younger mage looked critical. "It needs half a cup more elfroot." The corpse pulled out one of the drawers on the side of the room, took out a withered root, and shook it inquiringly. "The royal elfroot, please." Manfred moaned and fumbled at more drawers.
emmrich compliments manfred's successes and is proud of him
"Yes! That's the one." The older mage beamed. "Very good indeed, Manfred!"
emmrich's appearance is described as well by audric
Audric dragged his gaze to the older Watcher across from him, with his silvered hair, tidy mustache, and long face full of concern. His expression reminded Audric of the Chantry scholars when they'd caught him reading by candlelight in the library. The good brothers and sisters had kindly tried to dissuade Audric from living in pages for so long he couldn't think straight in the morning.
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i think they a phenomenal job bringing emmrich to life (no pun intended).
emmrich is quite informal, cares about putting someone else at ease, he treats audric as he would a living person, never forcing him to arrive at a conclusion or pressuring him
"Is there anything else you can recall about Lord Karn's funeral?" the mage asked gently. "No? I think... not much, sir. Another guard, she, well... Dellah even had to peel him off me, sir." The necromancer waved a hand. "Emmrich will do, please."
macabre sense of humour
"It's... sorry, it's a blur of screams, sir." "Some of it your own, I'd bet," the necromancer joked, but looked so sympathetic Audric relaxed by a degree.
he is indeed a professor/very scholarly
"Myra picked up the curved rib bone. One end was jagged from where Audric's boot had connected with Karn's rib cage. She handed it to Emmrich. "Excellent. Emmrich? This is your remit." "I'll have it ready before sunset." He sighed. "It would be faster if we'd managed to replace the librarian by now. The students have naturally left the books a mess."
this all fits so well with the blurb we were given about him not so long:
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"Emmrich is as serious about his duty to protect innocents from the occult as he is about his studies and his interest in the mysteries of the fade."
don't leave the books in disorder, please.
emmrich is renowned to be good at what he does by other mourn watchers
"Myrna seemed content to leave things there, and took something out of a velvet purse. A rib bone. "Emmrich's prepared your trophy for us. His cathexis is very reliable." Audric felt the ground tilt downslope. "Madam?" "His magic." She tapped the rib bone. "This will now guide us to where Lord Karn's fled. Emmrich would join us, but he's been called to other matters."
i had to look up what cathexis means exactly and it's defined as follows:
In psychoanalysis, cathexis (or emotional investment) is defined as the process of allocation of mental or emotional energy to a person, object, or idea. [...] Cathexis comes to us by way of New Latin from the Greek word kathexis, meaning "holding."
myrna uses a skeleton to send a message to emmrich, presumably he might employ similar methods of communication if available
"Good." Myrna sent a mote of light into a nook in the wall. A moment later, a skeleton fell out, hissing and snapping. Myrna snagged it with a collar of green fire, tugged it like a leash. "Does that... hurt it?" Audric asked, more sympathetic to the shambling thing than he'd been a minute ago. "The sensations differ. With some of the dead, one must exert direct control." The skeleton subsided, making a strange whine. "A message," the Mourn Watcher told it. "Find Professor Emmrich Volkahrin. Tell him after some last business in the Winged Halls, we'll be joining him above without delay."
this description reminded me a bit of the brief glimpses we got of emmrich in the very first companion trailer:
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emmrich appreciates punctuality & holding oneself to prior commitments
"You heard my message to Emmrich." She crooked a finger, gesturing to Audric. "We'll be expected. It won't be difficult to return from here. Audric looked around. "I can... I'm allowed to come back with you?" "Of course. Myrna lifted her skirts and stepped over a chunk of stone from the fight. "Emmrich will be put out if we don't show up for tea."
emmrich is incredibly kind when dealing with spirits and undead, no matter their rank or standing in life
"They were back in Emmrich's den. Audric had been astonished to see familiar tomes in a neat stack on the necromaner's desk. "Those... are those...?" "Yours, yes. From your home." Emmrich shook his head. "Forgive the liberty, guardsman. After you and Myrna left for the Necropolis, I had to search for a reason you might have returned so unexpectedly." "I believe we found it," Mysrna said, from where she was overseeing Emmrich's manservant transfer the contents of a bubbling beaker into a bowl. Emmrich handed the top book to Audric. It was a gazetteer of Nevarra City, stamped with a crowned skull surrounded by flowers. Audric flipped it open and read the blocky inscription. To our Son with Love. May you be Blessed in your Studied with the Chantry. "All this effort... for me? I'm just a guardsman, sir." Am? Was? Audric pushed doubt aside and held the gazetteer to his chest. He existed, knew what he loved, and that he had been loved, and that seemed enough in the moment. "The great leveler has no favourites." Emmrich smiled. "Neither does the Mourn Watch."
i found this reaction to myrna and audric quite interesting, and i'm not completely sure what to make of it yet:
"You are faced with a choice," Myrna said, coming over. "You have confronted your killer, and recognised your driving passion. You may rest now, guardsman." "Or?" "Or you may work under the auspices of a Watcher," Myrna said. "Under a modicum of magical control. To avoid anomie, the bond must be given freely." "To you, madam?" "If it's satisfactory." The guardsman ducked his head, and because that felt inadequate, knelt on a knee and held out a hand. Myrna, smiling slightly, took it. Emmrich coughed, looking away. "Please, let the poor fellow up. What position were you thinking?" "I thought it was obvious." Audric felt a slow excitement as he heard Myrna say: "We have a great need for someone to take charge of the library."
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overall, i really liked this short story.
i loved how audric wasn't aware that he is, in fact, dead and has died a while ago. i loved how both emmrich and myrna didn't correct his assumption, but led him to the realisation. i love all the little insights we got into emmrich as a character, but also nevarra's culture, necromancy and the mourn watch.
it's definitely one of the best in the book. 🖤
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mamayan · 2 years ago
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★LOVE★
Darling! Hisoka Morow x Yandere! Reader
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cw: NSFW • Obsessive/Possessive Themes • Fem! Reader • Noncon turned Dubcon • Yandere Themes • Murder • Emotional Instability • Yandere! Reader • Drug usage • HC • PIV
This is not “reader” inclusive as I’d assume nearly 99.9% of you do not exhibit true yandere traits. This is written with a female yandere in mind. No other physical descriptors will be used, but “reader” will have psychological descriptors and habits which will likely not match the majority. Please keep this in mind while reading. Thank you!
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To become so obsessed with a psychotic mass murdering clown magician like Hisoka, you’d need to be a special breed. Harley Quinn style if you will, but incorporating an even more massively unhealthy level of adoration and blindness.
Since Hisoka is a whimsical sociopath and amoral character, it’d likely attract someone that is… surprisingly selfless and mildly antisocial. His attitude and way of life likely trigger feelings of envy and jealousy at first within you. Why does he get to be so carefree? Why can’t you just slaughter your entire place of work when they piss you off?
So starts the morbid curiosity. Who is Hisoka Morow?
You’d see him in passing a time or two, maybe you’d even witness him kill or target an individual in battle. You’d stay undetected by Hisoka. This requires great skill in nen-ability and you’d likely be a pro-Hunter or something along those lines. You’d need to be incredibly powerful and a good strategist to have Hisoka as a darling. Specializing in stealth/tracking/spying would all do you well in aiding to observe stalk Hisoka.
He’d take a life so easily it’d stun you. His lack of remorse after even more. How does he feel so little? Why is he so easily aroused in battle? Why can’t you look away? Rationality will need to take a backseat in this budding crush you have. It won’t bloom into what you call “love” until he does something that speaks to you personally.
It’ll be entirely mundane too.
He’ll do one thing that will capture your heart. Maybe it’s when he spares Gon and Killua. He’d claim it’s because they’ll make worthy opponents later. You’ll see it as something else.
Once your feelings for him are established, it’s impossible to find fault with him anymore. Everything he does is perfect, utterly adorable and fascinating, and he’s a silly kitten who can do no wrong in your mind. His clawed finger nails are proof that the most harm he can do is claw up some curtains.
Hisoka is constantly on the move, traveling often and usually very light. He does have a few spaces he uses more like storage than actual living quarters. This where you spend time when you aren’t observing him. Going through his things, envisioning a future with him, imagining him tied to the bed.
You’ll be delusional but no so much you believe you can have him without force. Wild cats are hard to tame after all, and a superiority complex over Hisoka will begin to develop the longer you watch and learn about him. You’ll likely have dug up all the skeletons of his past. You believe you know him best, who else understands him so well but you?
This dig includes any lovers or even potential lovers. They’re in the way and need to be gotten rid of. You can’t let them ruin him now can you?
Finding all of his past lovers isn’t easy, especially without alerting him to anything suspicious at first. Thankfully, despite his track record of murders, his love life is stale at best. A few hookups when he was younger, no long term relationships, but he does have a notable relationship with a female from the Phantom Troupe.
Machi, a beautiful woman which Hisoka blatantly flirts with. More than the usual too, it holds a level of sexual tension which invokes unparalleled rage inside you. It’s ironically not directed at Machi, but she’ll bear the brunt of it anyway.
Hisoka is given both a sick and delightful surprise when Machi’s severed head is delivered to his hotel suite in a box. A love poem hand written by you in it, but it’s a warning for him too.
It’s a grotesque combination, but it’ll most certainly catch his attention. A bouquet might’ve sufficed too, but Hisoka will now know of your existence. He doesn’t think this is a love note though, he thinks this is revenge. He’ll be angry too, because whether Machi was ever a real love rival or not, she was someone he wanted to fight. His designated prey was caught and killed before he even had a true chance of tasting victory over them. That must mean you are an even better treat.
It’ll drive you wild seeing how desperate he becomes to track you down and find you. He comes close a few times too, but always just out of reach. His real niche laying in combat unlike you. It feels romantic in a sense, and it’ll drive the fantasy further that you two are meant to be together. He’s meant to be yours isn’t he? As you begin leaving even more obvious hints of your presence in his life, he’ll realize it’s not revenge you’re seeking.
He’ll figure out he’s got a perverted little stalker when he finds your cute lace panties left for him to find. No need to mention you’d touched yourself on his bed to the thought of him and came in them. It’ll be fairly obvious from the fact that he hasn’t been to this particular hideout in a while and it’s spotless. No dust. Everything perfect, but he didn’t clean before he left this one. Then he’ll see on the unmade bed, a clear sign of a woman having intruded and marked the area. Strands of your hair. Your scent. Your clothes.
Still, he won’t catch you. He’ll bait you too, and sometimes you wonder if you’ve been caught only to realize he just knows he’s always being watched now. He doesn’t know your exact location or if you actually are there. “I liked your gift… hmm, but it would’ve been a nicer surprise to see you in them~” he’s flirtation and goading. It’ll be difficult to resist him, when he’s seemingly speaking straight at you. You know the moment you reveal yourself though, he’s not going to drop to his knees and offer himself to you. It’ll be a battle on sight. Though the thought of him getting aroused because of fighting you… makes you itch to throw caution to the wind.
Instead you clear any and all traces of your presence for several long months, until Hisoka grows avidly annoyed and then slowly disinterested, moving on to other opponents and amusements. Being in your line of work means a very much endless cash flow, the resources available to keep up with your favorite pass time of just watching him in all his glory. He’s perfection, even as his face twists up into a manic monstrous expression as he slaughters his victims, you see nothing but an angel. Never mind the screams and begging for mercy, isn’t he so cute when he plays a magic trick for them? It’s easy to become overwhelmed with jealously occasionally, but you’re good at being patient and reminding yourself that person isn’t special, Hisoka is just entertaining himself.
It’s also hard to remind yourself you aren’t special either. While it takes a certain sense of superiority over a darling to develop yandere tendencies, you’re also affected by an inferiority complex about the world. This means you’re isolated in how you interact with the world, no close friends or relatives, no real hobbies outside of what assists you with your work, hardly any social interactions that aren’t required. This is what makes Hisoka so fascinating, and it’s also what starts your real downward spiral to depravity.
What makes you truly snap and lose control to your yandere tendencies , is nothing other than Hisoka himself.
He’s coming down from a recent high of a fight in Heaven’s Arena, only showing up due to being challenged as a floor master, but the fight had been surprisingly up to his standards. His opponent was both entertaining and thrilling until their end. He was in a good mood, a very good one, so when a spectator approached him batting their lashes and hinting at spending the night in his suite… he said yes.
That was strike one.
Strike two was the audacity of the piece of shit throwing themself at him. You carefully followed, silent and untraceable as sexual tension began to rise in the elevator all three of you shared. Only they thought it was just them.
Strike three. Wasn’t your presence at least somewhat obvious? It’s highly delusional on your end to become enraged at other’s ignorance to your presence despite your mastery of hiding it. It’s what allowed you to watch Hisoka so long after all, but illogical as it is, you were still pissed. Furious at both of them but now mostly at Hisoka. Who was leaning over them, letting his height and teeth aching sugary tone seduce this common stray off the street like they were his personal favorite. They weren’t. He didn’t have any real favorites. Only toys that were disposable and this was no different but it didn’t matter because he was yours. And it seemed he needed to learn this.
Even Hisoka can be taken off guard, especially with his pants feeling too tight and the piece of ass before him being all to eager to please.
He’s unconscious when you finally reveal yourself. The deafening scream echoing throughout the elevator as it finally reached Hisoka’s designated floor and opening. Unfortunately for the poor soul screaming who was just looking to get laid, you weren’t in the mood to grant them anything less than a brutal death.
“Shut up! Shut up shut up shut up shut shut up!” Your fist broke bone with each strike, until your victim lay unrecognizable and very dead. You’d released your nen, and every nen user in this entire Arena now knows you’re here, all because anger got the best of you.
It didn’t matter, because even with the corpse at your feet, you were still furious.
You took both Hisoka and the body out of the elevator and swiftly worked to clean up the damage and fluids. You didn’t need the Arena fining you again. Hisoka was out cold, but he’s quick to recover so you work on getting him into his suite and bed, working his wrists into nen blocking steel cuffs. He’s spread like a star fish, each limb hooked to the fancy bed posts. You muttered anxiously as you dug around your bag, hands shaking as you pulled out a small leather pouch about the size of your palm.
It might seem overkill, but chaining and drugging ensured your personal safety once he woke up.
Never mind the fact that you could just leave after disposing of the body. Your heart fluttering and cheeks flushing as you looked upon his unconscious body on the bed prevented you from acting within reason. No, you wanted him to see you, if for no other reason than to establish where he was.
Beneath you.
Hiding your presence and that of the corpse, you quickly left the building with Hisoka’s key card to properly rid yourself of the responsibility and allow yourself to fully focus on Hisoka.
Returning was quick and painless, this time not revealing your presence until back in Hisoka’s suite.
His face was angelic while he slept, though his head would likely ache from the powerful blow you landed to the back to get him in this state. You contented yourself with just watching him for the next hour or so, until with no warning, he woke up. It was odd how he didn’t even twitch. Just suddenly aware of his situation and surroundings, alertness to his features immediately. You wished it was a sleepier and cuter wake up, but you still found it adorable how on guard he was instantly.
Those lovely gold orbs landed on you and narrowed, despite his sly smile. He might appear relaxed and languid for someone chained up and hardly able to move their body due to relaxants circulating their system, but you knew he was furious. Hisoka, as much as he loves playing with others, hates being played with. You stayed silent, letting him observe and calculate, allowing him time to run through his options and every plausible scenario.
“Well… good morning Ms. Stalker.” His airy words sent visible shivers down your spine, his eyes and focus, for the first time entirely on you. He also seemed to note your reaction, his smile sharp and predatory. “Oh? You like the nickname? Bad girl… don’t you know not to play with magic?” He tested his restraints, with surprisingly more strength than you thought he’d have after injecting him. He’d require another dose then. You were quick to work on that, his eyes tracking your movements and realizing your objective.
“Not even going to let me play?” He didn’t resist as you sterilized his arm before injecting him with a fourth dose. Three should’ve been enough to tranquilize an elephant but Hisoka wasn’t a normal human. He flexed his hands and twisted his wrists, copying the same with his feet and ankles. The cuffs were made specifically for him. You’d kindly taken off his shoes and socks, but his shirt and pants remained on. You felt your throat constrict and thighs clench at the thought of him naked. You’d already seen it a multitude of times but he hadn’t known you did. Watching him shower and change so shamelessly.
“You look ready to eat me. Is that what this is dear? You got jealous when I brought another up here?” His nickname for you threw you off, your eyes widening and meeting his teasing gaze. He looked sinfully beautiful like this, at your mercy yet still so him. You licked your lips, feeling mildly nervous now that you were about to speak to him. This was too good an opportunity to pass up though.
“Yes,” he paused when you finally answered, “I…I was very jealous.” Your hands gripped the bottom of your shirt, the material bunching as the earlier annoyance was brought back to your attention. You grimaced, “This wasn’t really how I intended for you to meet me for the first.”
“Oh? But we’re here nonetheless aren’t we?” His tone was a bit snarky, but he was correct. What did you do now? Make every little fantasy you had come true?
“How about this, yes? You take these off and I give you a painless death. Isn’t that nice of me?” His words have your eyes snapping up to his face, his words not matching his sweet expression. He wanted to kill you? Not even fight? You frowned, a low boiling of rage in the pit of your stomach.
“You think you hold any power here?” You sneered back at him, walking to look down at his sorry figure chained up and at your mercy. He was being a brat. You backhanded him swiftly, his head cracking to the side at the force and momentum. His pale skin already reddening as a small trail of blood tricked down his chin. His gaze was on fire as he turned back to look up at you. Defiant and piercing, but his smile never wavered. “How about this, Hisoka, you stay right where you are, and maybe I’ll be nice and let you finish tonight.” His eyes widened, a small moment of shock taking over his features but he quickly schooled them again.
You began undressing swift, throwing your clothes to the floor until you were only in your underwear. Your chest heaved, nipples tightening under the cool air of the room and Hisoka’s gaze. You couldn’t place his expression exactly, a combination of desire and rage most likely. You climbed atop the bed and thus him, knees on either side of his hips as you made light work of his shirt. Shredding the garment and tossing it to join your clothes. His pants were next, now both of you almost completely naked and staring at one another.
“Is this your idea of a good time Ms. Stalker? Tying up innocent magicians and having your way with them?” You laugh at this sentence, because it was silly to think too much about. He was still being light and teasing but he was exuding a little bit of bloodlust.
“No Hisoka, my idea of a good time is just you in general.” You placed a cold hand on his abdomen, sliding it up gently until it reached his throat. “Watching you, hearing you, smelling you…” your eyes trailed up his naked torso to his lips for a moment, before connecting your gazes. “This is your fault really. I didn’t ask to be haunted by you, I didn’t ask to feel like this, I didn’t ask to want someone so badly I’d gladly watch this word burn if it meant you’d be entirely mine.” It was a deeply disturbing confession. You sat down, right over his erection where you could grind your pussy against him and elicit a beautiful hiss of pleasure and pain from him. “I can’t, oh, I can’t decide if I want to own you or be you really,” you panted, beginning a slow rock of your hips as your arousal soared. The object of all your affection beneath you, looking so much like a cat being bathed it brought a small smile to your lips. This was all turning you on, and he seemed to also be enjoying himself somewhat.
“I very much would love to humor you dear, but I really do recommend you remove these.” He dropped his facade, his expression turning dark as he realized how unlikely you were to release him. You were clearly deranged, maybe more so than himself. He tugged against his chains, the rattling echoing around the room but it only served to make you amused. Despite his words, his hips had begun to lightly buck up into you now. Both of your underwear soaked through, a combination of your slick and his precum. His voice and tone sent your hormones flying to cloud nine, your face starting to look intoxicated as you gazed down at him with obsession.
“You say you want them off but do you really want this to end? I could just… leave you here. All night. Maybe I’ll come back just to make sure you, haah, stay hard?” You were panting and a little sweaty, breasts heaving as you became more intoxicated by the moment and him. You looked spelled bound and he looked downright menacing. Of course, because out of all things, Hisoka likes control. His flirtatious attitude can not be mistaken as submissive, but here you were forcing him into such a role. Threatening him with a punishment if he didn’t behave like a dog.
It made him want to bite you like one.
“Pretty Ms. Stalker could’ve told me she wanted her little pussy filled, no need to go to such lengths-tss!” He flinched when you finally fished his cock free, your soft cool hand a striking contrast to his pulsing hot shaft.
“You’re so pretty Hisoka.” You were lost to your own fantasies, not really registering his words anymore. He realized it quickly as you focused all your attention on his leaking cock, impressed by the size and girth. It would hurt, taking him, but the thought of stretching around him was driving you wild.
But first… you dropped your chest low and opened your mouth. Your tongue had him groaning low, the sound of his teeth grinding together had you even wetter than before. You licked from base to tip, slow and sensual. He tasted sweet. Not salty or bitter like you imagined and it had you quickly and messily taking him into your mouth.
For all you were, you weren’t experienced. This was your first blowjob but you prayed not your last, because as you choked and gagged to take more him, he was losing it himself. What you lacked in experience and skill, you were making up for in enthusiasm and pure need to please. Observing his reactions as you let his tip finally sink into your throat even as tears pricked your eyes and fell down your cheeks. It burned and ached, but you pushed the pain down as you watched him. He finally gave in and kept your gaze as you worked to make him cum, sucking and taking him as deep into your throat as you could. You were making an absolute mess of his cock and balls, slobbering all over him. It was erotic and truly enticing, and the only indication he was close was the twitch of his lip and his hips trying to make you take even more of him.
You tried to get all of him in your throat when he came, but you failed by an inch or so. You stayed still as his hot cum coated your throat and mouth, moaning at his musky sweet flavor and making sure to suck and milk him for any leftover until he was choking on his own moans for you.
You made sure to clean him up nicely, licking and making sure even his balls weren’t missed. When you finally pulled back to look at him, you nearly passed out at the sight.
He was slightly sweaty, breathing a little heavier with half lidded eyes glaring and grinning viciously at you. His cheeks flushed, the left slightly bruised from your earlier hit. His lips red and bitten, a bit of blood still leftover on his chin. He looked gorgeous. You couldn’t be blamed when you were stumbling off the bed to grab your camera from your bag. No need to turn the flash off since he knows of your presence now.
He scowls as you snap his picture, looking beautiful and ruined just for you.
“I- sorry- I just need this okay?” You set the camera down, eager to return and continue touching him and exploring.
He snorted, looking at you in disbelief with mild amusement. “Is that so? You needed to photograph me naked?”
“What? No. I have lots of those already. I wanted one of your face after I made you cum.” He seemed flabbergasted at your answer, but you couldn’t help your eager hands from cupping his cheeks and leaned down over his face. “You’re just so pretty I can’t help it.” You told him honestly, his expression relaxing into something neutral as he observes you. Fine by you, as you begin kissing his face, hair, cheek you hit and then his neck. You lick and suck over his pulse, enjoying the masculine groan as you mark him up and lick his sweat. You’re trembling as you wiggle down to his chest, playing with his nipples. Swirling your tongue elicits the best response, his back arching lightly and proving your theory that his nipples are sensitive.
His hardening cock beneath you all the proof you need, your own nipples pebbled and aching as you drag your chest against his while you work.
When he bucks up again underneath you, you finally release his nipple with a pop. Looking at his tossed and adorably fucked appearance, you shiver. His hair messy from throwing his head into the pillows. You licked your lips, finally clumsily trying to get out of your underwear but failing because of your position. With a huff of annoyance you just tore them off, finally completely naked and slightly embarrassed by his stare.
It hardly mattered if he liked what he saw, you weren’t so far gone that you thought you looked anything like his earlier willing catch which you’d crushed- “Pretty thing aren’t you?” You paused your internal rambling when he spoke. His voice low and husky, not as flirtatious and teasing like his usual tone. You’d never heard him use this voice before, you eyes meeting his with curiosity.
He chuckled, but his bloodlust from earlier was gone like it had never happened, “What’s wrong? You were so eager just a moment ago, don’t tell me you’re shy now? Is Ms. Stalker a virgin?”
His goading voice was back, covering up his earlier tone like it’d been a mistake. Though you were surprised he hit the nail on the head. You were a virgin. Not because you lacked people willing to fuck you, but because you lacked interpersonal skills to have a normal relationship. Intimacy terrified you before you’d fallen for Hisoka, but after it was all you seemed to want. To touch him, feel him, make him feel good. You wanted him desperately.
“I won’t be much longer.” You looked away and solidified your resolve as you moved to hover above him again, your dripping cunt begging to be filled. You balanced using one hand on his hip, the other gripping his once more hard cock and lining him up with your entrance. You let his tip brush through your sensitive folds as you shakily released a breath. You took one small peak at his face, his eyes watching you like how a hawk might watch it’s prey.
You let his tip breach your entrance, no surprise that it stung. You didn’t prep yourself at all, and though you were wet enough, you wished you’d thought to carry a little lube in case this scenario ever occurred. It didn’t matter though because even if it hurt you were being connected to him and it made your chest swell with pride and happiness.
“Fuck, you’re tight- ah” he threw his head back and grit his teeth again, your gummy walls simultaneously sucking him in and pushing him out. It had him close already embarrassingly enough. The pleasure and pain mind numbing.
You’d only taken half of him but it was leaving you breathless, “m’trying” you could only gasp as you struggled to push more of him in, tears pricking your eyes once more as the pure stretch of his cock inside you was turning your brain off. It hurt but it felt good too.
“If you take these off, I’ll happily finish the job you’ve started dear~” Despite his tone, his face looked just as aroused and strained as your own. It was tempting, but deep down you really didn’t trust him. It came from knowing him that you didn’t trust him in the least. You shook your head, denying his prompting. His laugh is dark, even as his hips surge up to force another few inches into you. You cry out, bracing against his chest as you fall forward a bit. He does it again, sinking into you until finally you feel your hips meet and his tip kiss deeply into your cervix. You lay panting against his chest for a moment as his cock pulses inside you, your body pathetically struggling to adjust to his size.
“Take them off while I’m being nice.” He’s not asking, but still you shake your head and push yourself up, moaning as he sinks even deeper. Your hips take on an unsteady rhythm, testing the depth that feels the best but his hips throw you off each time you find the perfect angle. The stretch and friction drive you wild, your mind numbing to the pain and pleasure as you feel the coil inside you close to snapping.
“Feels good~” your moaning loudly, face fucked out and teary eyes locking with Hisoka’s. His eyes are burning, face scrunched up in frustration because your pace isn’t quite fast enough, nor is he hitting as deep as he’d like. His chains clink against the steel posts, you’re too distracted though to pay attention as you desperately work your hips towards your finish, bouncing on his dick. “M’gonna cum Hisoka” your deliriously close, the coil right about to snap-
When his chains do first.
“Huh,” You only get a split second to panic before he’s on you, breaking each steel bedpost and freeing his movement up again. His cuffs are still secured for a second but it’s meaningless a moment later when they shatter. His nen stored up enough to cancel their purpose of restraining him despite how much you’d paid that specialist who guaranteed no one could get out of them. Never mind that he should still be drugged up enough to he struggling to move at all.
You find your positions switched, your back hitting the mattress as you gaze up into his eyes now.
It’s silent for a moment, save your own pounding heart and icy fear now filling your veins. He just… looks at you. His face blank, eyes calculating but just when you decide it’s best to fight than let him slaughter you like this, he laughs.
Not like normal. This is borderline hysterical laughter, his hand wrapping around his torso as he howls with laughter.
Before you can activate your ability, he’s got a hand wrapped around your throat and squeezing just enough to warn you. “Did you think this would all just work out how you wanted dear?” You were scared, that was true, but as he nudged your thighs apart and dragged his still hard cock through your folds teasingly, you realized you were also horrifically aroused too.
All of your fantasies had you on top, because you didn’t trust him not to kill you if he was, if he even wanted to willingly touch you at all.
“Look at you~ poor thing,” he’s mockingly sweet as he leans over you, long tongue coming out to lick your tears off your cheek. As he leaned back, you truly didn’t expect his hand to leave your neck and slap you across the face. The sting follows after his hit lands, but it shocks you silly more than it actually hurts. You don’t have too long to think before he’s shoving himself back in, and your too far gone to stop the orgasm that slams into you. “Wait!” It too late even as you cry out, hands desperately grabbing on to something to anchor you. Him.
He hisses, face vicious as he stares down at you, “Did you really just cum?” His voice somewhat incredulous as he feels you twitch and writhe beneath him. He stayed still, letting you shakily come down from your high before he’s rocking into you.
Then he’s fucking you just how he likes. Hands gripping your hips in a death grip as he slams himself into your overstimulated cunt over and over. He leaves you mewling and fucked stupid beneath him as he mercilessly thrusts into you like a rag doll. You can’t keep up. Can hardly speak besides useless babbling, only making him laugh and sarcastically mock you for it.
“What’s wrong dear? Isn’t this what you wanted? Am I just so deep inside you~?” Cooing as you nod and cry harder.
It’s when he kisses you that you cum again. He tastes like bubblegum and you’re gone, creaming his cock as his tongue tangled with you own messily. It all feels too good, your arms wrapping around his neck, legs around his waist, while you just struggle to take it. His tip pounding away in a spot that has you gasping and sobbing below him, because despite everything, this is the most pleasure you’d ever felt. It was disorienting and left you mildly numb, his sharp claws trailing down your chest softly to settle his thumb over your clit and press until you came again.
This one was slightly painful, your muscles constricting so hard Hisoka finally fell over the edge himself. His moans so pretty, soft and deep as his hips still move despite him emptying himself inside you.
He recovers first, staring down at the pretty thing in his arms struggling to catch her breath.
You’d given quite the headache for a while now, but tonight really took everything up a notch. You certainly weren’t halfhearted, something of which he respected. You weren’t a weak thing either, his thrusts harsh enough to break a normal human’s hips, but you just looked fucked stupid. It was cruel of him to be so rough, but then again you’d really brought it on yourself hadn’t you?
You’d brought all this onto yourself, and whatever happened in the future too.
Because now he was a little hooked as well, and you were just too cute and interesting to leave alone now that he’s tasted you. Had you first.
He easily reached over to snag your camera, switching it on and snapping a picture of you still shaking and twitching with his cock still buried inside you and beginning to grow hard again.
Realization dawned on you, but even as you tried to move and get away from him, he had your wrist locked above your head to stop that nonsense.
“Nu-uh dear, I’m not finished. Not even a little.” His lustful gaze and sadistic smirk had you looking like a frightened animal, but it only served to rile him up further.
It’s after all, your fault for loving someone like him, right?
It’s important to note that once Hisoka becomes interested, he treasures it. But something he treasures one day can become trash the next… until you.
Hisoka is surprisingly a willing darling. Don’t think this reverses any roles, he’s not submissive to you in the slightest. He acts like a total brat but he’s dominant through and through, don’t expect to ride him unless he’s got full control to just fuck up into you.
He’s needier than you’d expect too. Not just with sex, that’s constant, but also in just having your company. He likes when you talk to him, interact with him, don’t expect to go back into observing from the sidelines. He’s all to happy to give you front row seats.
He’s just as jealous as you are, but he’ll purposely play into your jealousy by flirting with other women to rile you up. He just likes how you look enraged, finds it cute. If you do the same, he’ll make that individual sit tied to a chair while he fucks you in front of them until you can’t even apologize anymore. Then he’ll kill them. He welcomes the same treatment. You get a bit shy acting it out.
Bonnie and Clyde duo!
He’s not a yandere, though he gets jealous, he’s just a psychopath in general. He’ll still be Hisoka no matter what. While you can interact normally with others when necessary, your fixation on him will remain an outlier. Hisoka is just trash to everyone, and surprisingly decent to you. By your low standards.
He likes ice-cream and ice-cream dates. He’s an ice-cream date man.
Illumi doesn’t understand your relationship but respects your devotion. Wonders why more women can’t be like you. Hisoka likes that his friend is envious of what he has.
Enjoy your darling, he’s frustrating and difficult but all yours now!
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Dividers by @benkeibear
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juanarc-thethird · 6 months ago
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Since your doing the DP and Wolverine prompts does this mean that Nora’s used Jaunes dead body as a weapon or just his sword?
Deadpool used Logan's bones because they are metal, so in this case I chose a third option that I came up with. --------------
Nora arrives at a forest where a cross marks the site of a grave.
Nora: (Narrating) For a long time, I wasn’t sure I’d ever be back. VIZ Media bought RWBY, there was a whole boring rights issue, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. But then, it turned out that they wanted me! the one girl who shouldn’t even have her own show! That was all so stupid. Look, we know the title of this thing, so I know what you’re wondering. How are we going to do this without dishonoring Jaune's memory? And I’ll tell you how. We’re not.
Nora then starts digging
Nora: (Narrating) I’m going to let you in on a little secret. Jaune is not dead. Sure, it made for a perfect ending to a very sad story, but that’s not how his Aura boosting thing works. You think I want to be out here in beautiful downtown North of Vale, digging up the one and only Rusted Knight? No, thank you. But the fate of my entire world is at stake. He may not be living his best life, but he sure as hell ain’t dead.
Nora finally reaches the bottom and finds the coffin.
Nora: Bingo... Yahtzee...
She then begins to tear apart the coffin.
*Smack! Tap! Scratch! Bang!*
Nora: Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.
*Crack!*
She makes a hole in the coffin and then…
Nora: Damn it!
She didn't like what she found.
Nora: Son of a bitch! *Hits the cross* Fuck! Motherfucker! My world is fucked!
Moments later....
Nora leaning against a fallen tree
Nora: *Talking to his right while the camera is only focus on her* That was weird. I’m much calmer now. Look, I’m not a woman of science, but you seem incredibly passed away.
The camera zooms out to show a very dead and skeleton-like Jaune, but still wearing his armor.
Nora: But it’s good to see ya. I gotta be honest, I’ve always wanted to ride with you, Jaune. You and me, getting into a Ladypool and Rusted Knight. Just fucking shit up. Can you imagine the fun,... the chaos,... the residuals?
She then starts playing with Jaune's helmet.
Nora: (Mimicking Jaune's voice) That's right Nora. There’s nothing that’ll bring me back to life faster than a big bag of RWBY cash.
Nora: Me too, Jaune. *Gets upset* No, no, no, no. Ugh, he had to get all noble and die for real. God damn it! *Looks back at Jaune* I could really use your help right now.
Suddenly, a group of futuristic soldiers appear out of nowhere. Nora sees them and hides along with Jaune's corpse.
Nora: Wait! I’m warning you! I’m not alone!
Soldier: Nora Valkyrie! You’re under arrest by the Time Variance Authority. Too many crimes with this, come out!
Nora: I hate this guys.
Soldier: Last chance! Throw out your weapons and come out peacefully!
Nora: I’m not gonna give you my weapons! But I promise not to use them. *Looks at you the reader* Did you know that Jaune's armor is made by a lot of pieces together? Here we go, maximum effort.
Nora jumps out of her hiding spot, and uses Jaune's corpse as cover. The soldiers are confused.
Bye Bye Bye by NSYNC It starts to play.
Nora: *Looks at Jaune* Okay, Jaune. I guess we’re getting that team up after all.
Nora grabs a piece of Jaune's armor and throws it at one of the soldiers, killing him instantly. The other companions of the deceased are stunned, but seconds later they run towards them as more soldiers appear.
Nora takes two pieces of armor from Jaune's shoulders and uses them to stab two of the soldiers. One in the back, and the other one she slashes and then stabs him in the head. Following with a kick that makes the piece come out the other side of the guy.
She then uses her leg armor and begins to swing around, hitting the soldiers in the face. She knocks one to the right, another to the ground, and one to the left. She then takes her phone and takes a photo of herself kissing one of the deceased on the helmet.
She then takes both of Jaune's arm armors, bones and all, and begins to slap each and every one of them like it's a game. With what remains of the armor already shattered, she kills the remaining ones. I use Jaune's fingers to stab one of them. Jaune's head to hit another one in the genitals. What's left of the legs to stab quite hard right into the chest of another soldier who was running.
Nora: What is this?
Nora notices a part of the armor that looks like a sword handle and pulls it out. And just at that moment a blue sword blade appears as if it were a lightsaber.
Nora: *GASP!!!!* IT'S THE SWORD OF DESTRUCTION!!!
Nora: I am soaking wet right now.
Nora: (Narrating) To be clear, I’m not proud of any of this. The wanton violence, the whiff of necrophilia, it isn’t who I am, it isn’t who I wanna be. Who I wanna be? Well, to help you understand that, I gotta take you back. My little joy ride I took through space and time, to the day that changed everything.
Nora: (Narrating) But that will be for another day, because the idiot who wrote all this is a little tired.
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kazuhahalol · 2 months ago
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creep | jeff the killer x f! reader
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you’re a straightforward girl living a straightforward and quiet life. So why does this smiling maniac insist on kidnapping you?
warnings: kidnapping, threatening
Disclaimer: Everyone is welcome on my page and I will not turn you away. However, it is your fault if you’re uncomfortable or peeved with my writing because I give multiple warnings prior to my content. thanks!
You were a good girl. You got pretty good grades, never skipped class, never snuck out, and most importantly never did drugs. You were focused on your gpa, the college you’re applying to having an acceptance rate of 20% with the desired gpa being 4.0. What else could be more important than that?
Surely not your best friend’s Halloween party. Your friend, Lindsey, was hosting a Halloween party the night of Halloween because she insisted trick or treating was for kids. You hadn’t planned on going, or going out at all for that matter. Staying inside and eating the night away was more than you could ask for.
But when she started shedding the crocodile tears is what got you. Lindsey has many friends yet for some reason continuously begs you to attend her party. Of course, being the good friend you are, you say yes. Big mistake. The bitch ditched you once more people started filling her house.
You sighed, leaning against the wall in Lindsey’s overcrowded living room, the music vibrating through your bones. The strobe lights flashed like a warning, illuminating strangers dressed as skeletons, devils, and things much worse. You didn’t belong here. You never had.
You glanced at your phone again. No messages from Lindsey. Of course. She’d dragged you here, begged you to come, and now she was too busy entertaining half the school to care that you were alone. Typical.
Sliding out the front door, you welcomed the cold, quiet night. The sharp air hit your skin, waking you from the haze of too much noise and too many people. You wrapped your jacket tighter around yourself and started walking home, the sound of your boots on the pavement the only thing keeping you company.
It was late. The streets were empty, the only light coming from a few flickering streetlamps. You moved quickly, trying to shake off the uneasy feeling crawling up your spine.
Then you heard it.
Footsteps.
You froze, straining your ears. They were faint, but steady, echoing in sync with your own. Turning your head slightly, you glanced over your shoulder. The street behind you was empty, shadows stretching long and deep into an abyss.
“Hello?” you called out, hating how your voice trembled.
No answer. Just the sound of your heart pounding in your chest. You quickened your pace, your breath coming in short bursts.
The footsteps grew louder. Closer.
“Stop following me!” you shouted, spinning around.
That’s when you saw him.
A man emerged from the shadows, his gait slow, deliberate. He wore a white hoodie covered in disgusting stains that hung off his lean frame. His face was a nightmare. Waxy, scarred skin stretched tight over sharp cheekbones, as if it had melted and hardened in the wrong places. His lips were thin and cracked, pulled into a twisted mockery of a smile that exposed yellowed teeth. His eyes gleamed under the hood—wild, bloodshot, and empty all at once.
Most disturbing was his hair—or what was left of it. Patches of uneven, brittle strands clung to his scalp, the rest of his head marred by burn marks and deep scars.
“You should’ve stayed at the party,” he rasped, his voice low and guttural, like gravel scraping against metal.
You stumbled back, panic clawing at your chest. “I—I don’t have anything! Just take whatever you want!”
His smile didn’t falter, but something dark flickered in his eyes. “Oh, it’s not about what I want. It’s about what I need.”
He lunged.
You turned to run, but he was fast—faster than anyone his size should’ve been. His hand clamped onto your wrist like a vice, yanking you backward with so much force that you hit the ground hard, the breath knocked from your lungs.
“Let me go!” you screamed, kicking and thrashing.
His grip tightened, his nails digging into your skin as he loomed over you. Up close, the smell of burnt flesh and something metallic hit you, making your stomach churn.
“Stop struggling,” he growled, his voice sharp and cold. “It won’t help.”
You clawed at his face, desperate to break free, but he caught your other arm and pinned it down with terrifying ease. His strength was inhuman, like he was made of steel beneath his scarred skin.
“You’re ruining my night,” he hissed, his smile dropping as he hauled you to your feet. “But don’t worry. You’ll make it up to me.”
Before you could scream again, he shoved something over your head—a rough, foul-smelling sack. Darkness swallowed you whole.
You kicked wildly, your muffled screams bouncing back at you. He didn’t say anything, didn’t try to silence you. He just carried you like you weighed nothing, his footsteps steady and deliberate.
You didn’t know how long he walked. Time lost all meaning as your world narrowed to the suffocating darkness and the steady ache in your arms and legs from struggling.
When he finally stopped, the sack was ripped from your head. You blinked against the harsh, flickering light of a bare bulb overhead, your vision swimming.
The room was cold and barren, the walls lined with deep gouges that looked like claw marks. The air smelled of damp wood and decay, heavy enough to make your throat burn. From what you could see, you can tell you’re in a run down manor of some sort.
Jeff stood in front of you, his crooked smile returning as he loomed closer. “Welcome to your new home,” he said, his voice dripping with mockery. “The Wisconsin Sanctum for Wayward Boys. You’re the guest of honor.”
“What do you want from me?” you demanded, your voice shaking as you backed into the corner.
His laugh was low and humorless. “Want? Sweetheart, you don’t get it, do you? You don’t have a choice. You’re mine now.”
He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face with a hand rough and calloused. You flinched, your skin crawling under his touch.
“You’ll be good,” he said, more to himself than to you. “Or you won’t. Either way… you’re staying.”
Before you could scream, he turned on his heel and slammed the door behind him. The sound of heavy locks clicking into place echoed in your ears.
You collapsed onto the cold, metal cot in the corner, your breath coming in ragged gasps. The silence was deafening, broken only by your own pounding heart.
Whatever this place was, whoever—or whatever—he was, you had to get out. But as you stared at the jagged scratches carved into the walls, the weight of his words settled over you.
You were his now.
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mourningsbane · 6 months ago
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Hi hello, just find out your blog IM SO NOT WELL ABOUT IT'S IT'S SOOOOO GOOD. Love the artstyle, love the story, love how ghoulish it is!
That being said, little theory time.
Oh Honeyspirng, Love, I might not know what killed you, but it seems like you are so so deep under the soil. You are the dirty little secret, a curse, a literal skeleton in the non-existent closet. You and your missing kittens, taken away from you (by the order of your love [the deputy, Frail was the name?] who hoped they were alive), so you rot somewhere beneath the dirt. You are alone, with no warmth to call your own. They buried you with no proper care, tossed aside, without zero concern of you. So StarClan won't claim you, they cannot. So you linger a constant reminder of the terrible negligence the clan put you though, don't you.
From Pretty words to simple words, I just found this blog and i am pretty darn sure that Honeyspirng can't know peace and hunts the clan cuz they fuged the burial. No respect to the dead as in desecration of the dead in hope to safe kittens who would never be born but also no proper grave to call thier own made them this way. Perhaps they were stuffed into a burrow? That would explain the first bit with "can't breath". StarClan nor DarkForest can claim them, so she lingers. Looking for her kits and hoping for connection they loved so so much in life.
And why would they do that? Well my only bet is on a little bit of prevention, Honeyspirng was sick so a quick burial would be safer - the sickness would not spread, and a little bit of superstition - Honeyspirng's kits weren't looking like regular kittens so the clan might have took it as a bad omen, and not burring them properly would be an act to try and shield the clan of any negative consecration the kits and Honey could bring after death, which frankly resulted in them being hunted. Which could be considered a great mistake, error in judgement that lead them here👀
-🐰
Oooh! I love reading theories like this! It makes me happy to know that people find my little story interesting enough to theorize, and I love seeing people's different ideas! I especially love your word choice!
That being said, you're certainly on the right track. A LOT of things were fudged regarding Honeyspring's everything, and it's certainly going to come back to bite.
In life, Honeyspring was responsible for expanding the burrows, and when she passed, the clan buried her in a burrow she was working on before she became so gravely ill; it was supposed to be a nursery. The kits did not come out of Honeyspring's womb dead, but they didn't (couldn't) live long. When her kits passed shortly after, they were taken by Tanglefern to be buried separately.
If it helps, ALL of the main cats (Tanglefern, Flaildrizzle, Rootstar, Bearface, even Sweetkit) have a fatal flaw. Tanglefern's is cowardice, he'd never admit to his mistake.
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lilyflowerstories · 2 months ago
Text
These Violent Delights | 2
Pairings: Jacob Black x Reader, Edward Culled x Reader
Summary: Y/N Swan is just like every other girl and she likes it that way. Normal is fantastic. Normal creates a functioning member of society. Normal is the reason she moved to a small town to live with her police officer father... only to find out that she gets the farthest thing from what she wanted. // Twilight Re-Write.
Warnings for the series: light violence, light angst, light smut
Word Count: 3.4k
| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
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The entirety of the lunch period, you couldn’t find the stomach to eat much. Your bowl of tomato soup only had a few spoonfuls taken out of it. But all the saltine crackers were gone. You had gone over and over in your head what you would say to Edward. Now that he was here, you couldn’t remember anything. You had never been in a real confrontation anymore. You took a glance at his table again. 
He looked different than before. Not terribly different, but enough that you noticed. His skin looked less pale and less stretched over his skeleton. The dark circles underneath his eyes aren’t there anymore either. Now, you could see why people said he looked perfect. 
The bell rang and you silently cursed. You couldn’t have been given more time? Reluctantly, you went with Eric and Mike to your biology class. Eric and you looked over when Mike started frantically digging in his backpack. 
“Ah, shit. Hey, tell Mr. Donoghue that I left my textbook in my car and I’m going to get it.” 
“Okay.” 
Mike ran as fast as possible while the two of you continued going to class. Eric sighed before turning to face you as you stood right in front of the doorway to bio class. 
“Hey, so, about prom, I’m the one in charge of communicating with the dj. I’ve lived my whole life here so I know my music choice sucks so I’m gonna need your playlist.” 
“Okay, when?” you asked as you pulled out yout phone to jot down that note. 
“As long as it’s before the month ends, that’s cool. And then dates…  I was wondering do you think Ang—” 
“How you liking the rain, Arizona?” Mike shook out his baseball cap that got soaked in the rain from the run to his car. 
“Guys! Class is about to start. Please take your seats,” Mr. Donoghue cut off whatever Eric was trying to say. If it was important, he’d get back to you later. 
Unfortunately, his lab partner and your lab partner were back so you had to sit with Edward Cullen. There was a slight smile on his face as you walked towards your lab bench. Before you got a chance to say the prepared speech, he spoke. 
“Hello. I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself the other day. I’m Edward Cullen.” His voice was smooth like coffee and somewhat low in its sound. “You’re Y/F/N Swan, right?”  
“Y/N.” 
You didn’t give him a chance to say anything else, turning your head to listen to Mr. Donoghue’s lesson. He must have been in cahoots with the universe because his assignment was partner work. The prize? A golden onion that has no value until he comes up with what it stands for. At least only one person could look through the microscope at a time. Edward pushed the device towards you. 
“Ladies, first.” 
“Why were you gone?” You looked in the microscope. “And it better be a good answer too… It’s prophase.” 
“Mind if I check?...Yeah, I was out of town for a couple days. It’s prophase.” 
“Like I said and the empty chair next to me told me that much.” 
“Personal reasons.” 
“Do personal reasons involve rude interactions?” 
“Uh, no. I’m sorry about that. It wasn’t the best day for me before you showed up to class.”  
“Apology accepted, I guess.” 
“So are you enjoying the rain?... What?”
You tried to stop laughing. “You’re asking me about the weather?” 
“Yeah, I guess I am.” 
“Well, no, not really. I’m not really a fan of any cold or wet place.” 
Edward chuckled as he checked another slide. 
“What?” 
“Nothing.” He shook his head. “It’s anaphase.” 
“Mind if I check… Anaphase.” 
“Like I said,” he joked. “If you don’t like the rain then why did you move to the wettest place in the continental United States?” 
“Baseball.” 
“Baseball? It’s also anaphase. Do you want to check it?” 
“No, I believe you.” 
Edward listened intently as you retold your story to yet another person about why you were in Forks, asking questions when necessary. You guys continued to do your work and talk. He carried the golden onion prize as he escorted you to your locker. 
“Why didn’t you move with your mother and Phil?” 
“Moving once means moving again. Phil could get a second contract next year and we’d be in California or Maine or some stupid place like Delaware.” 
“But now you’re unhappy staying here?” 
“It’s complicated.” 
Edward paused. “I’m sorry, I’m asking too much. I’m just trying to figure you out. You’re very difficult for me to read.” 
“Well, asking questions like a normal human bei— hey, did you get contacts?” 
“No.” 
“I swear your eyes were black last time I saw you, now it’s like a golden brown color.” 
“Uh, no. It’s the fluorescents.” 
He walked away before you could say anything else. You didn’t see Edward until school ended and you went to your truck. He and his siblings seemed to be looking directly at you but you thought you were just being paranoid. You turned back around to dig through your bag for your keys. The screeching of tires caught your attention but it was too late. Tyler’s van was barrelling towards you and your feet couldn’t seem to move. 
Now was not the time to find out that your flight or fight response was the dreaded third option of freeze. You could see Edward, four cars away, staring at you in horror. His mouth dropped open. The same as all the other faces that were about to witness your death. Almost everything moved in slow motion.
The hunk of blue metal slid towards you, you felt something grab your waist, you were pulled down to the ground, and a pale hand was on the van that wasn’t hitting you. You stared at the dent in the metal caused by the hand before turning your head to make eye contact with Edward. 
He stared at you for a moment before letting go of you and running away. You were suddenly surrounded by people asking if you were alright. None of them seemed to have noticed Edward wasn’t there. The next thing you knew, you blacked out. 
The lights of the hospital were blinding when you finally came to your senses. The door opened with a vengeance and in strolled your very anxious father. He wouldn’t calm down no matter how much you tried to speak with him, threatening Tyler’s license and everything. It’s not like it was his fault his tires skidded on ice. You mouthed an apology before shutting the small curtain that divided the two hospital beds. 
“Dad, Dad I’m fine. Okay? I was lucky that Edward was there, no injuries.” 
“Edward?” Charlie turns to Dr. Cullen. “Your boy?” 
You cut in before the doctor could even get the chance to say anything. It seemed like he was going to lie. 
“Yeah, he got to me so quickly.” 
Dr. Cullen gave you a tight smile. “It sounds like you were very lucky. You just need to sign some paperwork, Charlie, and then you are good to go.” 
After Charlie signed the paperwork, he went to warm up the car before we had to drive to the school to get my car and then drive home. You turned the corner to one of the vending machines when you stopped after seeing Carlisle, Edward, and Rosalie talking with each other. It didn’t seem like a friendly conversation either. They were definitely arguing. As if they could hear you just breather, the three of them turned towards you. 
“Can I talk to you for a minute?” you asked. 
Edward looked reluctantly as he made his way towards you. “What?” 
“How did you get over to me so quickly?” 
“Y/N, what are you talking about? I was standing right next to you.” 
“No, you weren’t. Don’t try to lie through this either. You were across the parking lot. I know what I saw.” 
“And what was that?” 
“You stopped the van with your hand.” 
Edward’s somewhat amused face turned cold. “Well no one is going to believe you anyway. Can’t you just thank me and we just drop it?” 
“Thank you.” 
“You aren’t going to let this go, are you?” 
“Not at all,” I tell him, determined. 
“Well, I hope you enjoy disappointment.” 
You went home that night with more questions than answers and the oddly sneaking suspicion that someone was watching you. You went to the bathroom and took your shower while thinking about how Edward stopped the van. So far, you had no concrete answers. You went to bed without any answers as well. Although you did wake up in the middle of night after having a strange dream about Edward. 
You tried to not think about that as you went to school the next day. The buses were already up front when you parked, ready for the field trip that you were positive wasn’t going to be very fun. Edward and his siblings, Alice and Jasper, walked past you. Mike popped up in front of you. 
“Hey, you’re alive, Arizona!” 
“You need more than a van to take me down.” 
The two of you laugh as you hi-fived. 
“So I was wondering, are you going to prom?” 
“Um, I don’t know yet. Charlie said I get two free no questions asked days if I go but me and dancing… it’s not pretty.” 
“Well, do you know if Jess is going?” 
“Mike!” you gasped. “Are you trying to ask Jessica out?” 
“Lower your voice, please. Okay, I may have had a small crush on her since we were seven and I am choosing to ask out my very good friend to prom.” 
“She’s going. I’m going dress shopping with her and Ang next weekend.” 
“Okay. Okay, cool.” Mike walked off before coming right back. “Do you think she likes me?” 
“Most definitely.” 
“Sweet. Thanks, Y/N/N. You’re the best.” 
He got on one of the buses while you got on the other. Tyler sat next to you, plugging your headphones into the jack on his phone. You nodded along to Blue October’s “Hate Me” as it played. The two of you didn’t talk at all but stared out the window like you were in a music video and listened to music until you reached your destination. 
The greenhouse was… interesting. That was the nicest way you could put it. Maybe it would have been nicer if you all weren’t cramped in the small walkway between the plants. Mr. Molina and Mr. Donoghue were trying their hardest to get people to water the plants or give them soil. 
“Now, I’m gonna make a steaming cup of compost tea.” 
He handed it to Eric. You laughed as you heard a very panicked yell. 
“No! Don’t drink it! It’s for the plants.” 
“What’s a no questions asked day?” a deep voice behind you asked. 
You nearly jumped out of your skin. Turning around, you saw the classic peacoat and never out of place hair of Edward Cullen. When had he even come up behind you? 
“You know you’re not helping your case. How’d you even hear that?” 
“You didn’t answer my question.” 
“Dude, you never answer any of mine. You don’t even say hi.”
“Hi.” 
“Please try to act less like a human. Are you gonna tell me anything? Preferably about the other day.”  
“Yeah. I had an adrenaline rush,” he said clinically. “It’s very common. You can Google it.” 
You paused and looked at him. “You’re a terrible liar. And a no question day is when I tell Charlie I need to do something or go somewhere and he asks no questions. It’s a mutual trust betwe—” 
You tripped but felt air and two cold hands grab you instead of feeling your face kiss pavement. 
“Careful,” Edward said as he set you upright again. 
“Thanks. So are you going to answer any of my other questions?” 
“Um. Ma—” 
“Y/N/N!” Jess stepped in between you two. “Guess who just asked me to prom?” 
Edward took the opportunity to slip away. 
“Who?” you feigned ignorance. 
“Mike! I’ve been hoping since forever but like he actually asked me.” 
You and Jess talked the entire way out of the greenhouse and onto the buses, forgetting about Edward and wanting to ask him more questions until it was too late. You weren’t going to think about him for the rest of the day. You had a father-daughter/mother-son date with Charlie, Jacob’s mom, and Jacob. Which meant going to a restaurant because both Charlie and Sarah worked long hours and weren’t going to cook. And Billy was doing his physical therapy for walking so there was no way anyone would force him to cook. 
You went to pick up Jacob at his school while his mom picked up Charlie from the station. He was still inside when you reached the school. It felt stupid signing the visitors clipboard when the school day was already over but you did it anyway just in case. When you made it to a hangout area for students you spotted Jake with his friends. 
You’d like to say they were your friends too but you never got very close with them over the summer. Embry usually went somewhere with his mom, Quil’s grandfather kept inside most of the time, and Seth had sports.
And their acquaintances you knew even less. Paul and Jared were always one grade level above you all and hung out with themselves. Sam didn’t seem to like any of you despite being only a couple years older than you and having even a smaller age gap with Paul. And Leah didn’t come around because either her loser younger brother was there or Sam was there which sucked because you wanted another girl around. 
“Hey, Y/N,” Embry said as you turned the corner. 
“Hi, guys. Jake, you ready?”  
“Yeah. See you guys later.” 
He nodded at his friends before getting up to stand next to you. Your fingers twitched as he intertwined them with his own. He rolled his eyes at the wolf whistles from his friends, laughing when you threw up a middle finger while the two of you walked away. 
“So where are we going?” you asked. 
“Who picked last summer?” 
“Charlie.” 
“Oh, nice, so it’s my turn.” Jacob looked something up on his phone. “Smuggler’s Bar and Grill, sound good? It’s in Port Angeles though.” 
You shrugged. “Eh, I’ve already finished all my homework and Charlie doesn’t go back to work until the graveyard shift. Go ahead and text them our choice.” 
Your truck pulled out of the school parking lot and headed towards the highway. Jacob fiddled with the radio for at least one decent station while you drove the hour it took just to get to Port Angeles. Honestly, you didn’t mind the time. The drive, surrounded by trees, was comforting. Especially with your best friend. 
If you and Jake weren’t singing to songs, you were gossiping about school. There was no need to catch up on anything else. Jake was one of the few people you texted nearly everyday despite being so far away most of the year — including the fact that he had a secret girlfriend for three years. Whenever he wanted to get her a present, he would text you what it was and would pretend he was sending it to you so Billy and Sarah wouldn’t get suspicious. It worked. They didn’t find out even after the two broke up. 
You guys pulled into the restaurant and waited for your parents to show up. Like you predicted, Sarah already analyzed the entire menu and knew what she wanted to order. Jake held up his phone. 
“They said they’re twenty minutes away and the food takes that long to prepare so order for them.” 
“I’m surprised she got Charlie to pick something ahead of time.” 
The two of you went in and got a table like they said. The host smiled a bit too sweetly as they called over a waiter. You and Jacob looked at each other and came to the same conclusion at the same time, silently gagging. There was no way they thought that you guys were on a date. Absolutely not. Was it because you were holding hands? The two of you pulled apart but the damage was already done. 
The waiter sat you down at what you could tell was the restaurant’s nicest booth by the best window that would let you look out onto the water. He handed you the menus and left to give you alone time to think. 
“Just gross, no offense,” you said. 
Jacob shrugged. “None taken. I would never date you, you’re, like, my friend.” 
“Same. Too weird… Do you think they’ll give us free dessert if we are though?” 
“Do you want to play it up?” 
“Absolutely.” 
Jacob gave you a smile you had never seen before but assumed he must have given to his girlfriend. He laid his hand across the table for you to grab. You took it with no problem — Jake’s hands were always warm and still a bit soft since he wore gloves when he worked on cars and bikes. His thumb stroked the back of your hand and he set the menu down to look at you. Almost like magic, or like they’ve been secretly watching, the wait staff came over. 
“Are you two ready to order?” he asked as he set down two glasses of water. 
“Ladies first,” Jake let go of your hand, ready to scoop up your menu when you finished speaking. 
“Um, does the shrimp scampi have a smell?” you asked in fake concern, hoping the waiter would catch on to teen angst of potential bad breath before a first kiss. 
“Oh, no, I got you, honey.” He had a noticeable southern accent. “What do you want to drink?” 
“Iced Tea, please. Oh, and a Caesar salad with ranch dressing.” 
“Got it. And for the young sir?”
“I’ll take the Not Your Mother’s Mac and Cheese along with a lemonade. Oh, and our parents are chaperoning but they’re a little late. Can we get them one clam chowder and one Hawaiian chicken sandwich both with Ruby tonics? What is a ruby tonic?” 
“Oh, I’m so glad you kids are too young to know what it is. Your food will be ready in a minute.” 
He took the menus and walked away. You could hear him gossip to the rest of the staff about chaperones. Jacob grabbed your hand again, giving it a peck. 
“You know he’s totally gonna bring you breath mints. Did you really ask if the shrimp would smell?” 
“Hey, I had to sell it. What brand do you think it’ll be?” 
Jake kissed your hand again. “Lifesavers. They scream not obvious for teenagers asking.” 
“You say this from experience?” 
“Ehh with Elle a couple of times.” 
“Really? I can’t believe you had your first kiss and girlfriend and I couldn’t even get a date for homecoming. You’re still a virgin right?” 
“Yes. I am still a loser virgin.” 
“Hey, I’m a virgin.” 
“Well then in that case virginity rocks.” 
You and Jacob cheered and clinked glasses before laughing when you were unable to hold it anymore. He moved over to your side since the two of you would have to be sitting together anyway once Charlie and Sarah showed up. He took the opportunity to sling his arm around you while you snuggled up to him. The two of you could clearly hear awes. 
“If we actually get free dessert,” Jacob whispered. “We need to do this more often.”  
Your parents came in exactly when the food came out. They looked at the two of you weirdly as you awkwardly broke apart. You shook your head before Charlie could say anything. They went with it like you had asked.  Your parents could do absolutely nothing but shake their heads and smile as the waiter brought out free cinnamon rolls in to-go boxes for not just you and Jacob but for the “chaperones” as well. 
You guys left a generous tip, cleaned up the table, and left the restaurant. You and Jacob clinked the to-go boxes together. 
“Here’s to fake boyfriends.” 
“Here’s to fake girlfriends.”
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