#Match 3 Spiel

[affespielejetztspielen]

Mystic Sea Treasures - 3 Gewinnt Spiele 🐵 https://neueaffenspiele.de/mystic-sea-treasures.html

[clandestineloki]

strawberry bliss (nsfw)

the part 2 to strawberry sweet ❤️

summary: miguel loves using his strength on you ;)) and this little snippet of you guys watching a replay of his recent game shows just that, with some sweet lil fluff and playful banter :)) and then miguel fucks u so good he hits your factory reset and you go back to being a lil shy babie around him oh no :3

tw: he also finds out you have a daddy kink, mention of shane dawson (derogatory), mention of physical violence (bros a wrestler what did you expect), overstimulation, a bit of breeding kink, heavy praise kink, a bit of humiliation but on the sweet side

A/N: this takes place about a year or so after strawberry sweet, where miguel and reader are in an established relationship and make quippy cute banter with each other

A/N # 2: pls reblog so we can turn more ppl into whores 💖

💕 hope you enjoy! 

===

"BABYY THE COMMERCIALS ARE OVER!"

Miguel runs from the bathroom and meets you in the kitchen, you with the tray of strawberry drinks squealing as he tickles your waist.

"AHH IT'S GONNA SPILL!!!" you scream, and he backs off, smiling as you regain your balance.

You balance the smoothie cups on the tray and move forward, but Miguel blocks your way. 

"M'scuse me, I have a game to watch," you pout up at him, but he doesn't budge.

"Mister, my boyfriend will be very angry if he finds out I'm late to the game >:( "

"Aww, such a shame, pretty girl... can't I just get a little kiss?"

"Let me through!"

"Can't, hermosa, you gotta say the password right up against my lips~ the password is mwah mwah mwah i love you miguel you're so handsome miguel~"

"You're cheesy," you roll your eyes, and he laughs as you set the tray down in front of the bed facing the TV. "I want the old Miguel back, he was cute and he had actual rizz."

He slumps against the couch. "The Miguel that was a total pervert over your old smoothie girl uniform?"

"Oh my gosh, I totally forgot about the uniform!" You giggle. "I hated it. Did you know on my first day they gave me a size too small and they had the audacity to try and gaslight me by saying I got fat?"

"Fucking weirdos," he pulled you into his arms, your back against his chest." Glad I got you out of that mess, mm?"

"It was just one mess into another, Mig, you made me your sugar baby," you tease, and his face scrunches up.

"Bebita, I may be rich but I'm not your sugar daddy. I'm just two years older than you."

"But think about it, I was sixteen when you were eighteen! Like- that's two years but the maturity difference is huge! That's creepy, Miguel. You wanna go to jail?"

"Ay, por dios. We're in our twenties, we met in our twenties. End of discussion. And I've already been to jail. Twice."

"What?!"

"Ay! ay! end of discussion. The match is starting," he pinches your nose then turns to watch the TV just as the host's opening spiel ends. Miguel feels you sit up in his grip when the crowds on the TV cheer as he comes up on screen, flashing a grin to the audience.

"Ew, who's that?" you mumble, cheeks stuffed with popcorn and Miguel snorts, rolling his eyes.

"That's me, your boyfriend, the guy who's gonna absolutely obliterate downgraded Shane Dawson in about..." he snaps his fingers just as his opponent comes out on screen. "Fifty-eight seconds."

"I really don't see the resemblance, Miggy, you're just being a bully."

"Y'know," he pulls you closer, absentmindedly kissing your neck as he feels you squirm in his hold. "I don't get how you let the physical violence slide but I compare some white guy to Shane Dawson and you call me a bully."

Your face heats up a little, and you turn away, mumbling shyly. "C-cause you look really badass when you throw them around like that... "

"Mmm?" he teases, nuzzling his nose in your neck. "I do?"

He feels you freeze up and chuckles, his hands trailing down to your thighs.

"Y-yeah," you whisper... "a bit..."

"Oh, and you like how strong I am, hmm? Is that what it is?"

It's cute how you shake your head and brush his hands away to turn up the volume on the TV, when he just goes right back to kneading your breasts and riling you up.

"Querida, you gotta answer me, y'know I can't understand you when you mumble like that~"

"What was the question?" you mumble, looking up at him with what he knows for sure are the most adorable bunny eyes he's ever fucking seen.

"I said," he nibbles down on your ear with a little growl, "do you get off like a cute little bunny when I show off? Is my baby that kinky~?"

" I-I... maybe..." you twitch as his fingers toy with your nipples. "Miggy, please..."

"Please what baby? Please stop or please give me more?" 

Miguel knows the answer, obviously. It's just that he can't get over the fact that he landed the prettiest girl with the cutest stutter when she's nervous.

"Please..." you whisper.

He chuckles against your ear, leaning in and lowering his voice just the way he knows you like it, especially when he's buried all the way inside you.

"Please what."

The tiniest gasp comes out of your lips. "Please... please f-fuck me... please?" 

Before you can even finish, you're over his shoulder and on the bed as he kisses everywhere on your face, growling at the inconvenience of the fact that he cant hold you still and fondle your chest at the same time.

"M-Miguel..." you whimper, twitching in sensitivity. "You're always teasing me..."

"Oh?" he mocks you, flipping you over on your stomach and gripping your hips, leaning in real slow to drawl darkly in your ear. "I'm the tease here? When you're shaking your little ass all over me? You rile me up like this and expect me not to fuck you the way you deserve? hmm?"

"S-Sorry..." you mumble, and Miguel laughs breathily, having the time of his life making you all shy and embarrassed.

"S'okay, baby, you just gotta make up for it, yeah?"

With a playful swat to your ass, he rips off your shorts and his fingers tease your folds through your panties.

"Miguel..."

"Yes...?" he kisses the arch in your back, smirking when your thighs tremble.

"Please hurry..." you gasp.

"Don't worry baby, you'll be asking me to slow down real soon~" 

===

His favorite sight of all time is you underneath him, with that blissed out look on your face and your chest heaving as he fucks every choked breath out of those pretty lips.

"Fuck, bebita," he whispers. "Creaming all over my fingers like the cute little plaything you are?"

You whimper, closing your thighs shakily, but his free hand just forces your legs apart and he curls his two fingers in you, tickling your pussy and making his hand even wetter.

"Hmm? What did you say?" Miguel mumbles close to your ear, and makes sure that at the precise moment you try to speak he speeds up his fingers, making your words melt away in warm red pleasure as more juices coat his fingers.

"S'too much..."

"Bebita, you asked for this," he whispers darkly. "We're not even halfway done."

You mewl out his name and turn your head to the side. He takes it as an opportunity to bite down on your neck and relish in the high-pitched pleasure drunk squeal that forces out of you as your little pussy sucks in his fingers.

"Shit. I can't take it anymore," he grumbles, his fingers moving even faster as he leans closer, forcing you flat against the bedsheets as you moan and cream all over his fingers like a cute little bunny, just too pleasure-drunk to utter even a word.

"Come for me baby," Miguel almost begs. "Come for me so I can fuck you the way I know you want me too, okay?"

You gasp at his dirty talk, and he laughs at the fact that you never stop getting shy when he says these things.

Or when your little pussy makes those wet noises when you're really really close.

"Fuck you're so cute," Miguel grins, licking the tears falling from your hazy eyes. "So sweet, letting me do whatever I want with you~ Come for me, gatita, you know you want to~"

Your moans make him grin and he thumbs at your sensitive little bud. His teasing sends you over the edge and you gasp and whimper, clinging onto him as he helps you through your third orgasm.

When you come down from it, Miguel is smirking down at you, and licking his fingers clean of your juices, humming lowly as his tongue traces his long fingers sensually.

"Wanna taste it right off your pretty pussy baby," he whispers, making you blush. "But I'll save that for later~"

He really means he'll save it for when you're too fucked out to close your pretty legs around his head.

Miguel kisses your hips as he flips you over again, tracing his rough hands over your ass and thighs, making you shiver and mumble something he almost can't hear.

"Daddy..."

His wandering hands freeze.

He grins.

"What was that?" he teases.

Your breath stutters.

"What- I-"

He leans in dangerously close, pinning you down on the bed with your ass right against his throbbing hard cock.

"What did you just call me?" he drawls, and you whimper.

"I-I called you Daddy," you bury your head in the pillows. "S-Sorry... if it makes you uncomfortable-"

Miguel thrusts his hips forward, sinking halfway into your wet, warm little cunt. The squelching of your little hole is nothing compared to the pure, unadulterated, sinful noise of pleasure that leaves your lips.

"Oh," Miguel groans. "That made me reallyfuckin' uncomfortable alright."

Your thighs shake as he sinks in really really slowly, making sure you feel every inch of him stretch you out.

"Say it again."

You gasp, tears forming in your eyes. "It's embarrassing..."

"Fuck, you really have to do all these things that make you so lovable, huh?" He groans, pulling your wrists and holding your arms behind your back. "Got the cutest little face, the cutest little pussy, and you always got these little kinks that make you so cute~"

He starts moving his hips, making you slur out his name and clench around him.

"My cute little milkshake girl, doing all these cute things for me and no one else," he whispers, and you nod helplessly,

Miguel runs his hands up and down your waist, making you sigh and whimper into the pillows.

"Wanna repeat what you said? No one's around, baby, just you and me. No need to be shy~"

"Daddy..."

"Fuck, you really are such the perfect little cutie, aren't you?" Miguel teases, pounding you harder.

It's music to his ears when you finally get to that stage of it, just uncontrollably whimpering and moaning and making all these noises of pleasure as you let him do whatever he wants to you.

"C'mon, say it again, another time won't hurt~"

"Such a t-tease..." you whine, and he chuckles fondly, pressing a kiss to your sensitive neck.

"Sorry, baby, not my fault you're so fucking adorable," he groans, shuddering when you clench down on him. "Daddy's close, baby, wanna come with me? Feel good together, hmm? Can you even understand me you dumb little baby?"

Miguel coos as you take in high-pitched breaths and gasps. Your tiny fists clench the sheets shakily, and your thighs thump helplessly with every thrust of his hips.

"Come back to me, baby," he whispers as his thrusts get sloppier. "Help me out one list time, kay? Wanna be my good girl?"

"Mhm..."

"Ah," he laughs. "Daddy broke his pretty baby so bad? Sorry, gatita, you just feel too good. Let's come together, okay? I'll get us there, baby~"

You whimper loudly one last time, creaming helplessly around his cock. Miguel pins your back down onto the bed, leaning in and growling right against your ear as his orgasm takes over as well, making sure you take every bit of his cum inside you.

The twitching of your thighs finally slows as Miguel pulls out, turning you onto your back and lightly running his hands up your thighs, waist, and breasts, kneading them softly and eliciting a whine from your lips.

"So sensitive," he pinches your nipple, making you gasp. "But I'll keep my hands to myself... for now."

You blush at those words, nuzzling into his neck as he chuckles at your bashfulness.

"Didn't know my good little girl had a Daddy kink. So cute," he whispers. "Got the sweetest little baby all to myself~."

Miguel brushes his lips against yours, smiling when he tastes a hint of strawberry,

His second favorite sweet thing in the goddamn world.

"Oh, baby~" he coos. "You felt so fucking good. Can we go again, gatita?"

You whimper, twitching helplessly, and blushing at the feeling of his fingers toying with the cum trickling down your thighs.

But you don't say no.

[tootiecakes234]

Going to the Hero Awards with Katsuki for the first time:

You and Mina had been doing prep ALL DAY. The hair, the makeup, final dress fittings, you name it. It was kinda nice, like a self pampering that was being funded by the best boyfriend of all time. Katsuki had given you his card and told the both of you to go nuts. He had to work the day of so he’d be getting home just in time to get ready and leave.

Mina had helped you pick out the cutest dress you’d even seen and it was orange to match Katsuki’s hero theme. Your other accessories being black with slight hints of green here and there.

You’re not gonna lie, you were VERY nervous. This was a big award for him. He’d ended up being number six at the last one and this was the year he breaks into the top 5.

Kats has been acting like it’s not a big deal but you’ve been able to feel how anxious he’s really been. So tonight you were gonna focus on holding yourself together and being there for him in whatever way he needed.

You were touching up your makeup just a little when you heard the front door open. He’s running behind.

“Fuck, I know I’m late. I gotta hop in the shower and FUCK! I never picked up my clothes from the-“, he was pacing around the room like a madman.

“Hey, hey.” And you placed your hands on his shoulders to steady him for a minute. “I have your clothes, they’re hanging up in the closet above your shoes. I have your hair stuff laid out on the counter and you might wanna get a quick shave in too.” You say as you run your hands along his stubble.

And he takes a deep breath. And then another.

“Thanks, I got sidetracked at work and time got away from me.”

“ ‘s fine. You’ve got time. Go ahead and hop in the shower and let me know if your need anything, yeah?”

He leans down a places a soft kiss to your forehead and then heads for the bathroom.

Yeah, this was gonna be a long night.

When Katsuki comes out of the bathroom he’s gotta towel wrapped around his waist and he’s looking a lot more himself.

You were sitting down putting on your shoes, but you stop and look up because you noticed he’s not moving anymore.

“What’s wrong?” You ask him.

“You look…… incredible” and the way you start blushing is insane. You cant even make eye contact with him. His compliments are usually never that straightforward. It shocked you a bit.

“Thanks” you whisper softly. And then outta the corner of your eye you see him striding toward you.

“Kats-“ but your lips are covered by his and you just know he’s gonna be covered in your lipstick.

When he pulls back he has a full grin on his face.

“Damn, I feel a lot better now. Gonna have the hottest woman on my arm and I’m gonna finally be in the top 5. Was worried about nothin.”

The smile that shines in your eyes is worth a million dollars.

“You’re not gonna have any of that if you don’t finish getting dressed so we can leave.” And you start pushing him away. “Go. Hurry up”

“Yeah yeah, ‘m goin” he mumbles as he walks away.

“And wipe the lipstick off your face” you shout behind him.

You guys manage to make it just before the doors close for the event and you’re sat at a table with Eijirou and Mina.

They go through the whole spiel of course before they start announcing the Hero’s in their order.

This year Pinky was number 18 which was 6 whole spots higher than last year and Red Riot broke into the top 10 sitting at number 8. You cheered so loud for your friends, but you didn’t fail to notice that Kats hand had slipped into yours and was holding on pretty tight.

He kept a straight face but he was beyond wrecked on the inside. You look over at him and give the the most encouraging smile you can muster.

The numbers continued to be listed off they’d finally gotten into the top 5. He hadn’t heard his name at 5 or 4.

“Coming in as the number 3 Hero in Japan, Great Explosion Murder God: Dynamight. “

He’d broken into the top 3!! You looked over at him and his face was as stoic as ever. Ever the cool man on the outside. This man leaned over, placed a quick kiss to your lips and then walked onto the stage to accept his prize.

“Ugh, yea I worked hard for this. It’s well deserved. Thanks to my agency and the best girl a guy could ask for…. Next year I’ll be number 1.” And then He just walks off.

Everyone else had given these heartfelt speeches but his was of course sweet simple and to the point.

Katsuki has grown up, doesn’t mean he’s changed all that much.

Number 1 ends up being Izuku for the second year in a row. When he walks past Katsuki they hug and congratulate each other. You were happy to see how far their relationship had come.

After the awards are given out, they had back to their seats and you guys have dinner. After, Everyone goes around congratulating and thanking. Most of them kissing ass really, but you digress. You’re in the middle of talking to some agent you really have no interest in talking to when you feel a warm arm wrap around your waist.

“I’m taking her now.”, you hear him say as he starts dragging you off.

“Hey, that was really rude.”

“Too damn bad. I’m number 3 hero, I do what I want” he says and you can hear the smirk on his face.

“Where are you taking me, Mr. Bigshot” ?

“Home. We came, we saw, we conquered. Now I get to have my real prize all to myself.

“And what would that be?” You ask as coyly as you can muster.

“Obviously you dummy. Wanna see how good that dress looks bunched around your waist” he whispers against your ear.

That has you walking with a pep in your step to get out to your car and home.

This had turned out to be a lot better than you’d expected it to.

Katsuki Masterlist

@dreamcastgirl99

[whalesforhands]

purge your turmoil pt.8 (satosugu x reader)

previous masterlist next

warnings: yandere behaviors and tendencies, my experimental tone shifts, not really creepy unless u find obsessive behaviors and patterns horrifying, gore mentions

Surrounded by debris of the dilapidated, abandoned hospital, you hold onto a raggedy stuffed doll left behind.

 It’s soft and colourful. Or, it once was. Her dress stained and riddled with blood and dirt, her cotton body having been slashed through the middle, soft cotton falling out as you hold her.

 A child’s final comfort in their last moments. It’s hard to breathe thinking about it. 

Your thumb gently caresses the doll’s smiling face, clearing off dust and remnants of dirt as best you could. 

“Will this,” Your words tremble. “Ever end?” 

Suguru stands beside you,  hands clenching when he catches the look of quiet despair on your face.

“I think… It’s not something to hope for.” He wishes he could offer more than just this.

“It’s,” You suck in a harsh breath, not realizing you’ve been holding your breath. “Been hard.” Your eyes flutter close as you try to ignore the haunting memories of blood on your hands, of cries for help, of massacred bodies of unfortunate victims. Over and over and over and over-

“And here you are, despite how hard it’s been.” He’s beside you now, kneeling down on one knee next to you as he tenderly grips a dirtied, matching ribbon found within the rubble back around the doll’s neck, tenderly patting its head when he finishes. 

It’s whole once again. You gently prop it against the crumbled pillar.

You hope that in another life, that doll and her owner are reunited.

——

The ticking of a clock sounds out somewhere around you, quiet and constant, each tock giving your eyelids the strength to finally lift, only to be met with the endless darkness ahead of you.

You don’t know if you’re still alive.

You’ve been floating around in here for… God knows how long. It’s lonely. Everyone. What’s happening? Where are they? You miss Shoko. You miss Satoru. You miss Suguru. You miss Yaga. You miss that little boy.

“You look like someone I know.”

You gently smile at him, eyes closed in amused bliss as you continue to stroke his hair, his head in your lap as he stares up at you with a furrowed brow of scrutinization.

“That so? I don’t think my features are very distinguishable from others, I suppose.” You giggle out, happy to have the young boy so comforted in your embrace as you softly pat his head.

(He’s so soft and squishy. You want to pull and stretch those mochi-like cheeks of his. You refrain, afraid of another barking remark that ultimately held no bite.)

“That’s not what I meant.” He pulls a sulky, irritated expression, brows still downturned into one of dissatisfaction, as if he can’t put his finger on where the sense of familiarity was coming from.

“You look like the pictures in the-“

You miss everyone. When was the last time you talked to them? You think and think, churning your brain, eyes squeezing close as you’re hit by a wave of bitter pain, your spine straightening out as you clutch your head.

“I think…” You begin to trail off, eyes stuck to the glowing blue glass of the aquarium as you watch a whale shark swim past your vicinity within the enclosure.

It’s tranquil. You squeeze the warm hands you held as you watched the sight before you with a smile.

“If I could choose… I’d like a life where I could grow old with all of you.”

You’re smiling as you think about it. Maybe you could rent a little apartment near wherever the 3 of them are staying, a quaint, quiet neighbourhood…

(…marriage? Maybe. That promise still makes you blush.)

Riko would give up on her little Star Plasma spiel. Live the way she truly wanted to, a way where she can finally find happiness, experience the joys she’s yet to feel.

Everyone… Would just be happy. Just like they deserve, just like they should.

But… You can’t possibly witness that if you’re dead, right? Your fingers claw at your face as you feel the bewildering pain of your thoughts. Are you really dead? No— Please, there’s still so much left to do. Your pitiful life should’ve had a reason for your living, and yet—

You can’t hear them. Can’t hear anything. You’re dead. Dead. What’s happening out there? Move. Move. Move.

The silence is deafening as your body squirms and you block out your ears.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tickticktickticktick-

Nobody is answering you. You’re missing the physical connection you once had to your body. How long has it been? How long have you been stuck like this? Time doesn’t even feel like it exists while you’re here.

The incessant ticking comes to a stop.

——

You learned to recognize this place in your time here. Your cursed void. One where no one but you could enter, and no one but you could leave.

The problem was… You couldn’t leave. You’ve tried. Walked and walked for endless miles, clawed at the abyssal darkness that never had an end, screamed into the void for hours just to never have an answer.

You… Can’t really be in here forever, can you?

It’s lonely in here.

“Gojo-sama, who is (last name)-san…?”

The tall man grins micheviously, looking down at the tiny hand he held within his palms as he squeezes lightly, before bending down to be eye level with his child.

“A special someone you’ll meet soon enough.”

——

“Nanako… We shouldn’t be in here…”

“It’s fine, Mimi! Papa and Daddy didn’t say we can’t visit! We just want to put the fresh flowers in for her! Plus…” She pauses, turning her head left and right, scouring the area.

“Megumi and Tsumiki aren’t here to stop us!”

The last sentence was dropped to a whisper, as if the blonde just realized her voice could attract attention.

Suguru kisses your hair, hands trailing to interlock your fingers with his own as he breathes in the very feel of you.

“Look, kids.” Geto pulls away, touch still lingering on your skin that had long gone cold years ago. He flashes a smile towards his awaiting children, showing you off for them to see.

“Isn’t she beautiful?”

You startle from your curled up position, hearing two faint sets of feet patter into the room. Slow, trying their best to tiptoe before a certain pair gives up, breaking into a sprint towards you.

A tiny crack forms within your domain as your ears keen to listen.

“See! It’s perfectly fine!”

You hear tapping, the fumbling of paper and plastic.

“Papa said it’s okay to give her flowers. I wanna be first cause today’s her…” She furrows her brows as she tries to mouth out the word. “Anniv- Ersaury?”

Mimiko frowns at her twin. “We should wait till everyone gets here…” She’s unsure, hugging her plush to her chest as she nervously looks around, more afraid of getting in trouble with her beloved parents more than anything.

The crack grows larger, making its way towards you.

“But last time we only got to spend like 10 seconds with her before Papa and Daddy chased us out!” Nanako huffed, a hand on her hip as she gripped a large bouquet of white lilies and osmanthus flowers, Mimiko holding onto the incense sticks.

“Anyway!” Nanako turns back to face you, settling the flowers down as she moves to kneel before you, hurrying Mimiko to start placing the incense.

“Let’s just start!”

You swiftly move towards it, ignoring the shards of glass digging into the soles of your feet, eyes burning from the shimmers of light shining through the holes as you chase it down, wanting, yearning for this escape.

The anxious twin lets out a deep sigh, lighting the incense sticks with a nearby candle as she hands a few to her awaiting sister, who settles down comfortably on her knees atop the prayer pillow.

“I wish for you to get better soon!” She holds the incense sticks up with her hands as she prays, eyes closed in deep concentration.

“Mhm…” Her twin follows suit, surrounding the room in a deep silence as they are joined by the flickers of the flame, the slow dripping of dewdrops from their fresh flowers chorusing with their heartfelt pleas.

Your surroundings begin to shatter, glass like formations raining down upon you as a shining bright light envelops your sight, a bubble immediately blowing up and swallowing you in its embrace as you begin to glow, the twins jumping off and Nanako standing protectively before her sister as she gets pushed back by your cursed technique.

“I- I think we broke it…” Mimiko’s voice is starting to crack as her tears begin to well up in her eyes, her hand dragging Nanako further back from you.

“Shh! What if Daddy hears us?”

“But he’s gone to pick up Gumi and big sister Tsumiki…”

Your eyelashes flutter as you slowly blink open your eyes, sensations of touch and your feel of the atmosphere slowly return to you. Your dried up flesh slowly plumping up, blood beginning to flow throughout your body, face instantaneously flushing with colour once more as you gasp out, taking lungfuls of air, irises rolling back to the front to view the space before you.

“Nanako… Is that…?”

You’re met with the darkness of what seems to be a bedroom. You slowly move to get up, bones creaking and your fingers slowly twitching to really get the feel of your body back, brushing against the various lilies and osmanthus flowers surrounding you, seemingly fresh in nature as dewdrops slowly dripped off the petals and onto your fingertips.

You look around you, disoriented and feeling fatigued, slowly sitting up against the plush area you were lying upon. It felt like you had just awoken from the dead.

“H…ello?” Your eyes flicker over to the 2 little girls standing before you, voice hoarse, broken. Vocal cords tangled together from years of underuse as you feel your organs literally start to pump to life, eyesight slowly coming back as your vision gets restored by the bubble.

It pops.

They scream, rushing towards you as they lunge towards your form.

“We did it Mimi! We cured Mama!”

Mama…? Did you- Oh my god. You’re blushing up a storm at the thought of it.

“Wha-What…?” Their smiles grow ever bigger, hugs growing startlingly tight for their small forms.

“Mhm! Along with Gumi and our big sister Tsumiki! But they’re at school now and Daddy is gonna pick them up and buy us lunch, then, then! We’re gonna eat dinner together cause Papa’s coming back today, then we’re gonna tell them we woke you up!”

“B-but we have to apologise to Papa and Daddy first for going inside the room, Nanako…”

You hear Nanako audibly gulp. “O-okay, but what if-“

Your eyes are starting to gloss over. You didn’t think that you’d be having 4 kids after being in that void for so long…

“W-wait—“ You’re trying to get used to your voicebox, trying to get used to the feeling of being alive once more. “Y-Your par—“

“Ahh, I’m so hungry!” The blonde one is curling herself into your chest as she whimpers from her hunger, a loud growl coming from her supposed sister next to her as she hugs your arm to her chest alongside her plushie.

You look down at the girls who are still upon your lap, staring up at you in expectant want. Oh— You suppose your question can wait for later.

…everything happens for a reason, right?

(Where is everyone?)

——

“Is the fridge always this empty?” You’re standing shakily on your feet, almost akin to a newborn whilst trying your best to not lose balance.

“No, Papa is just out of town on his job right now!” Nanako puts her hands on her hips as Mimiko signals you to come down with a frantic come hither motion of her hand, you kneel to her level, nearly falling over had it not been for the second twin flanking onto your other side and pushing you up with all her body’s strength, whilst Mimiko cups a hand around her mouth, whispering into your right ear.

“Daddy can’t cook, so he always buys takeout when Papa isn’t around…”

Nanako tugs at your sleeve on your left, signalling for you to come towards her.

“Don’t tell Papa but,” Her voice gains an excited tremor. “Sometimes Daddy lets us eat ice cream and cake for dinner!” She pauses once again.

“And he forgets to remind us to brush our teeth!” The girls giggle together in unison.

“Then sometimes, when Daddy is called on for a sudden mission…”

“He brings us all along and lets us watch him beat up the bad guys right in front of us! Gumi likes it the most!” The girls start zooming around you, throwing punches into the air and pretending to hit each other as Nanako feigns hurt when she takes a ‘direct’ hit from Mimiko’s plush.

“Ahhh! I’ve been hit by Red! KABOOSH!!” She falls dramatically to the ground, imitating a explosion with waves of her little arms before splaying herself by your feet and clutching your calf.

“Like that!”

…

…

You’re sweating with stress as you listen, patting their heads as they smile angelically at you. You need to talk to their parents about this before you get a heart attack.

(Missions… Red… Are their parents jujutsu sorcerers?)

“Girls.” You stand back up, your hands placed on both of their heads as you began to pat them gently as they nuzzle up into your warm touch. Nanako holds your hand in place when she feels you try to pull away, whilst Mimiko begins to intertwine her fingers with your own, trying to trap you.

“Why don’t we go buy something?”

——

You’re silently panicking as the two girls drag you towards the old crepe shop, tugging you by the hand as you’re slightly hunched over to allow them easier access to you.

You forgot the most crucial thing.

Money.

“Papa and Daddy always lets us follow them to the school! Then, then-!”

“Then we buy chocolate milk because Papa and Daddy really like it!”

“But Daddy never finishes his, so we get extra cause he gives it to us!”

“Then we play with Uncle Yaga who gives us new dolls every month! Then Uncle Yu, he’s super, super fun! Auntie Shoko gives us sweets when Papa isn’t looking!”

(Yaga, Yu— Shoko…!)

Mimiko pipes in. “Uncle Kento sometimes plays with us when he’s not busy eating his big sandwiches… Then Megumi and Miki comes back from school and then-!”

(Kento… Megumi? Miki? Does this mean— Could it be?)

“We eat dinner together!”

“You’re gonna lovvvveeee them!”

Your hands pat their hands, feeling them nuzzle into your warm touch.

“I’m sure I will.” You’re suddenly before the crepe stand as the two girls drool over their options. “But first, um… Do you girls happen to have any allowance?”

(“Oh! Yea!” Mimiko unzips the back of her plushie, pulling out a singular 10000 yen bill as your eyes nearly bulge out of your head.

“Daddy gave it to us before he left so that we could use it if we wanted!”

Your jaw is still hanging low in shock to process her words.)

——

“Uncle Yaga!” The girls pounce into his arms, causing him to stumble before he firmly plants his feet onto the ground.

“Children…! What are you doing here?” His voice had lost their usual rough tone, turning softer as he smiles down at the familiar kids. Still… They shouldn’t be here. Is Gojo nearby—

He senses it.

He feels the pulse of a familiar energy, hurriedly pushing the kids behind him as his sunglasses scan the area, spotting your tired form slumped over against a tree, trying to catch your breath.

“Kids…” You’re huffing as you try to get your bearings back. “Please don’t run…!”

No. It couldn’t be— There’s absolutely no way—! His hands ready themselves, calling for his cursed corpses to the scene before you-!

“Ahh! Yaga-sensei…!” You’re still panting as you reach him, sweat on your brow and your legs jellylike as the twins continue to cling onto him, wondering what’s going on.

“I’m so glad you weren’t so far away!” You’re sweating, smiling through your tiredness as you try to regain your bearings.

“I have so much to ask you!”

…

“Let’s talk in my office.”

——

There’s a hurried stampede of feet before the door is quite literally ripped off its hinges.

Her unlit cigarette collapses to the floor from her grip as she stares at the sight before her, felt the surrounding cursed energy as her body freezes in place.

She takes a step back, legs trembling when she places a hand over her mouth in shock, her eyes widened in horror and distress as she met your form.

Suguru’s distraught as he looks into your eyes. Eyes that never should’ve opened ever again. Eyes that he thought he would never see again. Eyes that he missed seeing with every fiber of his being, every speck of his soul.

You.

How are you here? Why were you out of that room specifically made to contain you?

Why are you alive?

“Yaga.” His eyes have narrowed into dangerous slits, fingernails digging painfully into the calloused flesh of his palms as the snarl he has on his face grows turbulent and murderous.

His curses are immediately summoned, one delegated to swallowing Shoko and tucking her away in its belly as it brings her devastated form to safety.

It’s tense. The words are stuck in your throat as you try to make yourself heard.

The mere presence of his cursed energy is causing you to freeze up from the overwhelming fear.

His cursed spirits were on their haunches, ready to pounce and stab and claw through the flesh of anyone who dares to stir the rage, the trembling anger of their master.

Your eyes widen as you witness the familiar worm spirit appear by his shoulder, hurling out a long set of nunchucks from its disgusting mouth. Your hands tremble as your spine straightens, his gaze deadset on you as you see the flashes of a million emotions running through him.

You’re breathless in his presence.

“You have 5 seconds,” Yaga feels the dreadfully cold voice of the special grade shaman, the aura emanating sending chills down his very spine as the lightbulb bursts, darkness swallowing the room as the air suddenly fills with putrid, thick smoke that crept into his lungs, skin prickling with goosebumps.

The suffocating presence of Geto Suguru.

“To tell me why my wife’s corpse is in front of us.”

previous masterlist next

Notes:

Through abuse of his power as the revered Six Eyes and Limitless technique inheritor of the renowned Gojo clan, Gojo was able to get possession over your body.

Geto and Ieiri were the ones who made a special coffin in efforts to preserve your body utilizing cursed energy.

Yaga was about to attack you after sensing your cursed energy. But the sight before him— Made him realise you can’t exactly be a threat.

Geto thinks you’re a curse. How devastating, to think that a mere curse dares to imitate your presence, dares to imitate you on your death anniversary. He wants to hurl, to vomit. The feeling in his mouth more disgusting, more vile than any curse he’s ever swallowed.

And yet, his heart yearns to feel you in his arms once more.

nvy’s aftertalk:

who wants to guess wtf is happening hahahahah

that praying scene is inspired partially by the way i do it when i go to the temple to pray haha

[pokemon-with-hats]

Pick Tumblr's Favorite Pokemon, Day 196!!!

Y'all know what time it is! Two more polls, two more eliminations. It's day 4 of...

The One-On-Ones

No more me having to do math. No more you deliberating over 3-10 different choices. Now, there are only Vibes and Gut Checks. Two pokemon enter, but only one can continue on for the chance at winning it all. So, again, I ask...

Chandelure. You honestly surprised me with how far you got, what with you just being a haunted lamp and all. Losing to sylveon is an honorable way to go... Wait. The trans dog lost to the light fixture? I've had this whole spiel written out since I saw the match up yesterday! Hm... okay here goes, take two:

Sylveon, you're trans as hell, and that's cool as shit. Unfortunately, sometimes you just get bodied by a sentient spooky chandelier. There's a lesson in this somewhere. Probably.

[sillygoblinantics]

I CANT TAKE IT ANYMORE

I’ve held my tongue for too long about my feelings on madhouse but fucking hell!

Unless by some fucking act of arceus or universe hands me the fucking concept art that went into this horrible webcomic- I got room to rip and tear!

This is:

Goblin’s Valid Autopsy of Lily Orchard’s PokéMadhouse

Before we go forward!

Hi. I’m Gobbo or Bri (pick ya poison), I’m a current student at Savannah College of Art and Design (as for campus I ain’t saying nothing) Im working on my bachelors in Animation and minoring in Creative Writing. My Concentration starting as 2d animation later switching it to Story and Concept in animation (back in 2021). I started in 2019 and it’s… 2024 now. Don’t judge me! I’ve been mentored by comic artist, storyboarders and many more in the industry! I’ve taken storyboarding and a plethora of writing classes to have enough qualifications under my belt to properly discuss the shit writing, lacking worldbuilding, disorganized plot hole ridden lore/arcs and horrible inconsistent art. So let’s not waste another moment and dive fucking in!

Story:

I’m not using Lily’s self review tvtropes to cover this. It’s disingenuous ego stroking at full blast.

We follow the highs and lows that are the “will they won’t they” relationship between the stated as sisters, Lily and her Gardevoir, G (yes that’s her fucking name). In a Sunday newspaper comic page esc structure. With bits and pieces of trivia and lore that rarely comes up if not to push and pull sympathy points for lilys self insert as she gets assaulted and violated in physical and mental ways. An arc being called “Violate” and later following the would be time span for gestation of a baby that would then become the labeled cryptid child.

I’m gonna be real there’s no point in reading it because the moment something big happens out of the blue there wasn’t a page missing to explain it which god fucking dammit Lily do I need to give you one of those brainframe sheets or outline templates if you decide to write a story? Because I’ll gladly provide them!

How do you consider yourself a fucking writer at all with your fundamental lack of care for lore and story like- for fucks sake woman it won’t kill you!

Characters

Lily

G

Mikayla

Marah

Bonnie

Mismagius

Other hardly seen or used Pokémon that get thrown away out of nowhere

Countless stolen ocs

And Dr Ponytail (yes that’s the fucking name of one of the “antagonists” and I’ve reread it so many times and found nothing!)

Lily has her “antagonists” being either ex friends or partners or someone who tries to call out bullshit! Fucking hell, the way Lily has g written it’s hard to not see HER AS ONE!

You have all these characters and you neglect so many of them to focus on making your favorite Dollies kiss and scissor or do nothing!

You don’t punish actual rapists either like legit what do you do when your Pokémon who’s been raised like a sister your whole life admits to mindfucking you in a weird soul bond type deal (that you wrote the explanation of yourself), then out of fear swaps dna of a Pokémon of her CRITICALLY ENDANGERED SPECIES can match with to save it with your own dna to baby lock you to staying together, what’s the thing you decide to write?

Case in point: stick an entire cactus up your urethra Lily.

I need a break from this… I’m moving on to the art misdirection.

Lily you are the one commissioning these panels from Mikayla. Meaning you are telling her how to draw these making you the literal art director of this shitty comic!

You want my advice?

USE MODEL SHEETS

Like holy shit. I need to copy paste my spiel about what it is one second:

Make a turnaround for your character(s)!

(Excluding front and back you need to make left and right versions of the rest!)

Front

Back

over-the-shoulder

3/4 view

profile

expression sheets

color pallet reference

(if it’s online/digital rgb if it’s for print it’s cmyk)

include the hexcodes for artists if it’s a small production!

lineup for height and scale for comparison to:

other characters

backgrounds

props

etc.

elements of the world + floor plan in small settings

action poses

hair guide (trust me it’s important)

these are the elements every artist who wants to tell a visual story be it animated or comic always needs:

✨A PITCH BIBLE✨

And Lily, if you’re making any story that is

A. Tied to an existing property

B. Has real world/geopolitical/historic relation

C. Needing a basic understanding to science

Do everyone and yourself a favor

AND DO YOUR FUCKING RESEARCH IN MLA FORMAT INSTEAD OF SOMEONE ELSES OPINIONS AND YOUR ASS OF HOLDING BULLSHIT!

Class

Dismissed

Your homework is to get these books:

[weeb-polls-with-pip]

Autistic Anime Boys Side B Round 1 Match 2

Propaganda:

Karna -

"Canonically comes across as unintentionally cold and blunt to others due to his straightforwardness and honesty, he is consistently drawn with a flat, unexpressive face, one of his canon dislikes is listed as being 'The word "communication skill" and multiple issues of his stem from his inability to properly communicate what he means to say to others without them misinterpreting it due how he talks and looks….despite this there's an incident in the mobile game where he has a multi-page spiel about how much he admires the fighting spirit of crabs. He's also projected his rival onto at least TWO people including a 3 week old guy because he's so obsessed with fighting the guy again and I'd argue that counts as a kind of hyperfixation, not to mention how he often tries to relate things back to his divine father and his general one track, hyperfocused mentality whenever he's convinced something needs to be done a certain way. This man is autistic as hell."

Takeo -

"He’s a very straight-forward, honest high schooler, who doesn’t understand social conventions but is also so oblivious that he rarely notices when he breaks one (though he is in fact aware of his own obliviousness, and spends a lot of time worrying that he fucked something up.) He’s very loud, enthusiastic, and earnest about things, and is also a physically massive and not conventionally attractive guy, so a lot of people initially dislike or are frightened by him, but if they spend more time around him, they often realize he’s actually an incredibly good person. Sometimes it’s because they just understand his personality better with time, sometimes it’s because they see him leap to help others no matter how dangerous the situation is (usually the danger is something physical, but he has put himself at risk for other types of dangers, like having his beloved girlfriend stolen by a cool pastry chef)."

[gghostwriter]

Yours Truly, Romeo

Chapter 5 __ Paris

Spencer Reid x FOC

Summary: Washington, DC - A string of grizzly murders and obsessive love letters causes Olivia and Spencer’s paths to intertwine. With a serial killer proclaiming his undying devotion to her and the thick tension surrounding her and her agent turned bodyguard, Olivia’s life is writing out like a contemporary love story that she, as a successful writer, could see herself publishing.

previous chapter || series masterlist || next chapter

“Condemned villain, I do apprehend thee.” - Act 5, Scene 3. Romeo & Juliet by William Shakespeare

As Spencer drove off earlier that same day, the remaining two members of the team—the steely unit chief and the specialist in obsessive crimes did just the same. They headed to Random House Washington, Olivia’s publishing label, to interview her agent for possible matches to their profile.

“Ms Amanda Miller, we’d like to ask questions regarding male personnels at your office,” Agent Hotchner stated as he pulled out his FBI credentials. “The man we are looking for doesn’t stand out in a crowd. He’s introverted and shy when it comes to approaching his female counterparts.”

“You described almost all of the men who work for the publishing,” the publicist lightly scoffed. “The publishing industry is filled with introverts, Agent Hotchner.”

“He may be quiet but there’s something about this man that seems off-putting. Something that puts the women on edge,” Morgan explained further as he observed the employees around the office.

“Uhm—there are maybe seven men working in this office that our female employees tend to avoid alone—something they tell newly hires, nothing untoward had ever happened though,” she grabbed a piece of paper and started scribbling down their names and company positions. Once done, she reached out to hand it over to Hotch. “Here you go.”

“Thank you. By any chance, is Ms. Hollie Taylor currently in the office? We’d like to ask for her own observations.”

Her black office chair swiveled to face the computer for access to the company log in and she shook her head. “No, she’s scheduled to work from home today.” 

Thanking her again for her time, the duo exited the premises and drove towards Ms. Taylor’s residence which was a thirty minute drive.

The dark skinned agent, seating on the passenger seat, dialed Garcia as the ex-prosecutor turned right to on the intersection. “Hey Sugar, I need you to run background checks for me.”

“That’s easy work, Hot Stuff. Tell me their names and I can even tell you their last grocery purchase.” 

He smiled as he listed off the names written on the piece of paper.

Before long, the SUV pulled into a stop in front of the red bricked apartment. Both FBI agents exited the government issued vehicle and entered the building, flashing their badges to the security personnel, and rode the elevator up to the 11th floor.

“Ms. Hollie Taylor, I’m SSA Aaron Hotchner and this is SSA Derek Morgan. We’re with the FBI, Behavioral Analysis Unit,” the stern unit chief spieled out once more. “We’d like to ask you some questions regarding Ms. Olivia Hill.” 

The brunette haired woman gestured for them to come in. “Call me Hollie, please. How can I be of help?” 

“We’d like to ask you about your male colleagues in relation to Ms. Hill’s stalking case. Do any of them stand out to you?”

Morgan added on. “Did any of them flirt with her? Try to ask her out on a date?”

She wrapped her arms around her body, clearly intimidated by the presence of two imposing agents in her home. “Not that I know of. Olivia rarely comes in to the office—only there for urgent meetings regarding new book ideas or promotional book signings prepared by the marketing team. The only male colleagues that she has contact with on a daily basis is Robert, Amanda’s assistant, and Elijah, her senior cover illustrator—”

Her voice drifted off into silence as her brows knitted together in thought before continuing. “We did have a new junior illustrator come in recently—the team met him once since the management wanted to get him on board working with romance writers. Nothing untoward happened but he did seem a little bit flirty with her but he went AWOL after that first week so I’m not sure if that’s much of a help.”

That piqued their interest. “Is his name perhaps Ian Cromwell?”

She nodded her head slowly, a slight furrow on her eyebrows, confused as to why his name had already been known. “Yes—yes that’s right. How’d you know?”

Morgan shared a look with Hotch, not keen on informing her the reason as to why his name has been brought up. Ian Cromwell was the third body found floating in Maryland—he possibly had a connection with the unsub. The latter subtly tilted his head to the side as if to silently instruct Morgan to wrap up the interview. 

“He’s not the stalker, is he? I mean, Olivia met him once and never interacted with him again,” she questioned, the silence further rattling her nerves. “Right?”

“Thank you for your time, Hollie. If there’s anything else you remember—anything at all, give us a call,” Morgan said as he handed his card and hastily exited the apartment.

———

The sun was beginning to settle on the horizon when they arrived back at the station.

“There’s got to be some type of connection there, Hotch,” he said closing the passenger door with a thud.

Rounding around the vehicle and pushing the precinct door open allowing themselves inside as the cool air blasted around them. “I agree, Morgan. Call up Reid and tell him to—”

Hotch cut himself off when he noticed an unopened white envelope with the letter cutouts that spelled ‘For the FBI’ on the meeting room table where their case papers and images were situated. He brought out his own set of latex gloves from his pocket and quickly picked it up, walking up to a nearby man in uniform. “Who delivered this?” 

The officer’s eyes widened as he stuttered to explain. “It—It was found taped on one of the police cars situated at the end of the parking lot. We checked surveillance cameras but that area is hidden by the trees and—and we also ran prints but there was none.”

Hotch deeply sighed, clearly frustrated with not being kept in the loop with the happenings in their own backyard, and dismissed the man in front of him. He returned to the conference room where Morgan stayed behind. Curious as to what had rattled his unit chief, he peeked at the envelope, catching the address, and his eyes widened. “That’s pretty ballsy of the unsub to deliver it here, a deviation from our profile.”

“He’s devolving. Something we did that disturbed his fantasy with Ms. Hill,” Hotch commented before carefully cutting the envelope and pulling out two letters inside. The first was a type written line from Romeo & Juliet.

“I must indeed, and therefore came I hither. Good gentle youth, tempt not a desperate man. Fly hence and leave me. Think upon these gone. Let them affright thee. I beseech thee, youth, Put not another sin upon my head By urging me to fury. O, be gone!”

“Wilt thou provoke me? Then have at thee, boy!” - Romeo. Act 5, Scene 3

Derek scratched his forehead, silently wishing that Spencer was nearby to translate the lines into modern English. The other flipped to the second page that contained magazine letter cutouts, similar to his first and second letters to Olivia. 

You have provoked my blood coated hands.

No longer must Paris be and come in between me and my beloved Juliet.

He has been struck I tell you. Struck! 

The two agents exchanged stares before bolting out the station and swerving out of the parking lot without so much of a word uttered. 

Ring. Ring. Ring. Your call has been forwarded to an automatic voice message system—

Derek noticed the way his unit chief’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel tighter and tighter with every unanswered call. The surrounding lights dashing past the SUV faster as he stepped on the gas further. 

“Garcia, I need you to track Reid’s number for me now,” Morgan urged on the phone without any pleasantries.

Having heard the frustration laced with concern from his voice, she typed on her keyboard quickly without a quip back to lighten the mood. “His phone last pinged on Olivia’s residence. I also tracked her phone and it says that she’s also within the premises.” 

He hung up and cursed under his breath before redialing and painfully hoping for Reid to pick up. The tension inside the vehicle increasing with every automated message. He swore again, wishing he should have gone with him instead and that the boy genius was alright.

———

“FBI!” Hotch shouted as he entered the unlatched front entryway with Morgan right behind. They continued moving forward in darkness with just their flashlights illuminating the way, checking every area, until they reached the staircase landing. The ex-prosecutor pointed upwards with his gun indicating to his team member that’ll he’ll take the upstairs while the other continues the search downstairs. 

Derek nodded once before progressing on inwards on the first floor. He rounded every room with his flashlight darting to every corner looking for any sign of Spencer and Olivia. As he entered the kitchen, a pair of distressed black Converse were caught peeking behind the counter near the ajar pantry door. It was Pretty Boy, lying face down, unresponsive. 

“Reid, Reid!” Morgan rolled him over to check for any bleeding, breathing a slight sigh of relief having spotted none. “Hotch, Hotch! He’s here!” 

Reaching over to where his phone was clipped on his belt, he called for an ambulance and indicated that there was an agent down at their location. Bruises were starting to form near Spencer’s temple possibly from a blunt force object to the head and an empty syringe lying nearby—the unsub was getting sloppy, leaving such evidence that may contain prints at a crime scene. 

As Hotch rounded the corner with the paramedics seconds behind him, there were two things they concluded that were unaccounted for. The first was Spencer’s standard issue gun and the second was Olivia Hill herself.

[twinsunsintatooine]

What are your fav bookmarked fics? I'm in the same spot rn and I need recommendations 🥲

omg i love love love giving fic recs because a very good portion of the fics ive read are so incredible i must share the love around !!!

i realise you maybe did not ask for this whole spiel and so many fics but you ask and i shall deliver :3 i tried tagging as many authors whose tumblrs im aware of, so you guys can go send them some love, but there's a couple that im not sure have accounts here :(

also: here i have already made a prev post recommending two drag queen josh fics that i very much adore, which you can find over here

some of my all time favs are:

suraj hua maddham, chaand jalne laga by @thatbluelight here on tumblr

i will never stop recomending this sorely underrated fic, i just adore it so much !! its a dark comedy guardian angel au (with a backdrop of bdsm - check the tags for more info on that) and will make you cry and laugh all at once :) its really great in its portrayal of a non-linear recovery, and quite inspiring with a soft and happy ending

Surrounded, Hounded by @bbluejoseph

this one is a wip, but is being regularly updated still !! this is one of my favvv fics ever even though its incomplete, and ive been intently keeping up ! this one is a werewolf/human experimentation au, and its got this isolated forest wintry vibe to it, but a tender discovery of the self and love :)

Wild Geese by @vialism

actually one of the first joshler fics i ever read and an amazing intro to the bandom, tackling conversion therapy and teenage romance :))

The Seventy-Third Hour by @edyluewho

all of edy's works are so atmospheric and immersive, every single one is amazing!! most of their fics have this dark undertone that is more often than not tied to a happy and soft ending (this fic is one of those) which i really enjoy! this one is inspired by the choker mv (ily choker), and deals with trans love, and tentative recovery (check the tags, as some topics mayy be triggering for some)

Drumstick by @marasamoon

this one is just as moody and atmospheric as some of edy's works, and this one is a vampire au!! this also deals with some pretty heavy themes, but the ending is joyful!!

Light a Match a series by an account now orphaned

absolute classic, a tale as old as time song as old as rhyme !! what can i say this superhero au is just a classic and i will eat it up every time

Felt it in my youth by an account now orphaned

fake dating galore!!! lowkey enemies to lovers!! fluff and angst and all that fun stuff!!

Woodwork by wavingrass

based on the craving mv ! this is a painter tyler x woodworker josh au, where josh is deaf and tyler deals with chronic pain :) its a soft story with some classic angst along the way but its just so soft

Boy, You're My Lucky Star by somepersonWithInternet

ALIEN JOSH ALIEN JOSH ALIEN JOSH !!! this one is also a wip, but being steadily updated as well :) its by @two_seerain on twitter, and its so fluffy and so sweet like tooth-rottingly sweet i love it

happy reading !!

[therealbobatea]

caldre as movie/tv duos NOW NOW NOW !!!!

CALDRE AS MOVIE/TV DUOS!

Hmm this one's pretty hard because I want to be true...I will try my best redaacted! (Also I know you said movies/tv but I might add games bc I don't rlly watch movies and shows :( )

Billy and Stu

Okay I feel like this one is kind of expected...considering that a lot of people like to imagine cal and andre as ghost face. But idk it just kind of feels right with like the emotions shown at the end by Billy and stu. But yeah :3!

Johnny and Kenshi

Okay. Don't boo me just yet. Hear me out...I feel like they kind of match the vibe. Johnny makes a lot of references in the game sort of like how Calvin like does that whole spiel about the aliens and stuff in the car with Andre. Yeah...

Horrid Henry and Rude Ralph

OKAY NOW YOU CAN BOO ME. Uhm...I used to love this show as a little kiddo... I feel like Henry and Ralph kind of give Cal and Andre in Elementary/Primary School whatever you call it. They were little brats from what I remember but it was them against the world and I fw that heavy!

Ghost and Soap

Man...sorry guys...I feel like they would have def played COD uhm...I just feel like they gave off those vibes that's really it...

Strawberry Shortcake and Orange Blossom

Okay I think you all saw it coming...strawberry shortcake pfp...yeah something was up...Anyways sometimes I just like to think of Cal and Andre as silly petite girls because it's funny.

[smuglilsomethin]

Something I noticed while rewatching Assassination Classroom (analysis overthinking symbolism / headcanon thingy)

So I was rewatching the show because I'm taking notes for an animatic idea and I found a random detail

Karma still dresses like his old teacher.

The teacher who we see in the episode 3 flashbacks acts all supportive (he said something like "No matter what, you were in the right" or "I'll stand by you no matter what" despite his "trouble with authority" or smth). And it made him look like Karma's trusted adult figure who would be on his side even when he got into trouble.

So idk, the matching clothes could have been a visual representation of Karma trusting the teacher and/or wanting to be like him?

But then he ends up sending Karma to E Class and we see the same teacher in a completely different light/turning on Karma, and there's the whole "this is the moment the teacher died to me" spiel (the visual with the teacher disintegrating into a skeleton still gets me every time asdfjkl) and now the audience understands why Karma's so excited to ice Koro Sensei (the whole "I've always wanted to kill a teacher" scene).

But he still dresses like this when we see him in his debut episode (I think the entire series but I haven't rewatched all of it yet) even after time has passed (the suspension) instead of him being given a different outfit.

So maybe it represents Karma still wanting an adult figure to look up to? Symbolism man, idk

It would make the "students don't die on my watch" scene after Koro Sensei successfully rescues Karma after his final assassination attempt even cooler, especially with how the lighting changes during that interaction to show Karma's change in mindset. He has a new teacher to look up to, one that he can actually rely on, seeing as he managed to save Karma's life while avoiding letting Karma assassinate him in the process...albeit this new trusted adult figure comes in the form of an assassination target.

I just really like this episode lol

[lavelans]

so i got to rewatch the fall of the house of usher today since some friends wanted to watch it and picked up on some things i didn’t notice before (some of these might be obvious but i just like pointing things out!)

1. we already know that the lighting shifts to that particular usher’s representative color during their death scene, but what i didn’t notice on my first watch was that not only do their wardrobes correspond with their colors, their furniture and home/work environments are in the same color too! (and when they’re not wearing that color they’re wearing a color that’s one step adjacent on the color wheel)

the most obvious is camille’s white, but i noticed this time prospero’s red car and jacket when he gives his first business proposal, the red suit he wears to the meeting with frederick.

i also noticed leo wearing a lot of yellow, the lights outside his apartment, the box he keeps his drugs in and the sofa he finds the dead cat behind are all yellow (he also mentions taking yellow pills).

victorine also wears a lot of orange, and so are the scrubs she and al wear in the operating room, the shelves in her office and the fruits on her dinner table at home.

tamerlane is another obvious one, with all the green she wears, but i also noticed there’s a green neon sign outside her apartment, and bill’s BILLT gym also had green accents.

and frederick wears a LOT of blue, i would say maybe he’s the third most obvious? his house has a lot of blue aquariums, and the room he keeps his wife in is blue as well. morrie also wore a blue dress when she went to perry’s party. and not 100% sure if this was intentional but the folder perry drops off at his house was blue too.

1a. bonus detail i noticed, what verna wears when she appears to each of the siblings just before they die also matches up with their respective colors. the red cape with perry, the white security guard uniform with camille, her uniform when she comes to leo’s apartment to pick up the cat, the green dress when she appears as tammy’s double and the blue vest she wears during freddie’s death. vic’s is a stretch but she wears a light orange cardigan when she meets with her and asks to talk to dr. ruiz.

1b. another bonus detail! perry’s party was lit mostly in blue before the lighting turned red just before he died, which visually ties it back to freddie’s death later on. freddie’s and perry’s deaths were already narratively intertwined, with morrie’s choice to go to the party triggering the events that caused freddie to slowly grow more and more paranoid and cruel throughout the series, ultimately leading up to his death in the same place. i just think it’s cool that this narrative connection is also reinforced visually.

2. when verna first arrives at tammy’s place as candy, she speaks with a uk accent, but as soon as the roleplay starts she shifts to an american accent and does an uncanny as fuck impression of samantha sloyan’s performance as tamerlane (which, CARLA GUGINO??? you LEGEND) (also as a non american who generally does not hear american accents outside of tv and movies, the accent switch did not register to me on my first watch lmao)

3. in the last episode, verna places the items on each usher’s gravestone carefully, you could even say with respect, EXCEPT for frederick’s cocaine packet (which she just unceremoniously drops onto the gravestone LMAO as he deserves). it does match the speech she gives him during his death. for the usher siblings she was sometimes kind but generally neutral when she spoke, always offering them chances to say no, but with little remorse when they fail to prevent their own gruesome deaths. EXCEPT for frederick, for whom her spiel is absolutely dripping with contempt for him.

4. minor detail, but in 1980 when verna was talking to the twins about putting their drinks on their tab, she says ‘buy now, pay later’ which basically foreshadows the deal the two of them later make with her. ‘buy now’ meaning saying yes to getting away with all the illegal stuff they did throughout the years, and ‘pay later’ with the lives of his entire lineage.

[malleux]

Hello! I’m kinda new to requesting and your blog, but I have read some of your works. Loving the way you write Albedo! Could you do childhood friends to lovers headcannons with Albedo please? 😋 Thank you and I hope your having a nice day/night <3

childhood besties.

-> albedo x gn!reader

-> warnings: not canon compliant, no use of y/n

[a/n]: i thought about this request for a while to try and make it match up with albedo’s little connections with khaenri’ah, but that was incredibly difficult so he’s just a sweet normal boy here

You and Albedo became friends because of your parents. Your parents were coworkers and close friends with Albedo’s, so whenever they hung out you and Albedo did too.

You took for first steps together, your first words were “Bedo” and Albedo’s wasn’t far off from being a baby’s version of your own nickname.

As toddlers and children, you and Albedo remained inseparable. Even after it showed that Albedo had quite a higher aptitude for alchemy and science while you preferred to stay away from that confusing route, sticking to other hobbies.

If you ever argued, it wasn’t for long. Albedo had a lot of emotional intelligence for a child and was able to not only see past petty things but help you do the same. He’d apologize or explain his feelings and would urge you to do the same.

The entirety of Mondstadt knew of you both. Where one was, the other wasn’t far away. Your parents even worked with the schools to keep you both in the same classes through primary school.

You were both subject to the teasing of your peers through adolescence and your teenage years, your friends joking about Albedo being your boyfriend or how you’re going to marry him one day. The only thing you could do was flush and try to deny it, but even you knew that there was a high probability of that happening.

Even as best friends, Albedo was your everything and you were his.

As you became teenagers and eventually young adults, it became hard to see anyone else romantically. You’d been on your fair share of dates, but your reputation with Albedo was widely known and not a lot of men really enjoyed how close you two were. It was insecurity at its finest— you were not willing to give up your best friend for a man you weren’t as close with.

Many failed dates later, not that it really bothered you, you began to realize that the only person you could really see in your life like that was Albedo. Like, you definitely didn’t want to give in to the rumors going around Mondstadt about the two of you being destined to be together, but it just felt right whenever you let yourself indulge in the idea.

You were SO NERVOUS about it though. You’d been friends for so long that the next step was scary. Would Albedo even want that?

Little do you know, he for sure did.

Albedo wasn’t one to go on dates or mess around with anyone. Firstly, he just wasn’t too interested in the dating scene. Second, he was too interested in you. Flirting with someone else— hell, even talking to someone else— felt like he was betraying you and he just had no desire for that.

His world revolved around you and you alone, even if he believed that you didn’t return that sentiment.

So imagine his surprise when you stood before him in Dragonspine, nose red from the cold and cheeks red from embarrassment, stuttering out this poorly put together confession. You were lucky that he just knew you well enough to put together the pieces.

The gentle smile that took over his face once he realized gave you the confidence to say the rest of your little spiel with more confidence and Albedo let you finish before agreeing to go with you back to Mondstadt for a dinner. Your first date.

The people of Mondstadt just knew the minute you two walked into the town hand-in-hand. They were right, after all.

[cloudyskydreams]

UT Papyrus Some General HCS!

Did these for Sans now it's Paps turn! I really enjoy doing these hope you guys like them as much as I do enjoy ::3!

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･

•His wardrobe is crop tops, booty shorts, a single pair of gray sweats, jeans, and flannels/button ups. He still has his battle body but he doesn't wear it as often. His scarf is worked into most outfits still as well a his mittens but he has a few pairs of mittens at this point for different outfits.

•A tea person for sure. Prefers herbal mixes over anything but also really enjoys golden flower tea. He likes to drink his tea as is but will add a spoonful or two of sugar sometimes.

•Has a multitude of hobbies some of which being yoga, jigsaw puzzles, occasional gaming mostly with friends (he prefers board games but video games are fun to him as well),and attending hobby classes. He likes to keep busy throughout the week and his schedule is constantly full.

•Speaking of his schedule he's like a job, he has his whole week planned out a week before hand on Fridays. He likes to know what he's doing ahead of time as he just finds it easier with how much he gets up to. He uses stickers alot in his schedule and has emoji reaction ones to show how each event went. He uses a new pen colour for each month as well.

•Actually not that bad of a chef after the first few months. He takes a few cooking classes and improves immensely. He's a really good chef after awhile of practice and forcing Sans to suffer through his practice food. He likes to cook for people throughout the whole process and does so with utmost confidence even when he's in his not the best chef phase.

•He volunteers alot at pantries and soup kitchens. He likes to give back to the community and feels like volunteer work is a good way of doing that plus he gets to meet so many interesting people!

•Papyrus is definitely the mom friend and when he goes out he always has a bag filled with everything you need. Oh you need a spare pair of sunglasses? Here you go a bandaid and some monster candy? Boom. 12 gallons of fake blood and a clown costume? He's got you covered but he may ask questions.

•On being the mom friend he is a bit of a worrywart. He has tons of spiels for different occasions. Like why getting out of bed and doing stuff is important to a happy healthy life. He just wants the best for his friends!

•He texts his close friends alooot throughout the day to update them on what he's doing and ask what they're up too. He likes checking up on the people close to him and making sure they're taking care of himself a habit he got when sans was struggling underground. He still looks out for his brother like that now

•He knits homemade gifts for everyone each winter. A scarf or hat even a sweater sometimes. Something to keep his loved ones warm and happy while it's chilly out. He knits him and Sans matching Gyftmas sweaters each year.

[floralcyanide]

𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐀 𝐕𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧 • 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐫

Part Four (NSFW)

Roman Bridger x AFAB!Reader

The day Roman first laid eyes on you, he knew he had to have you. There was something about you that he couldn’t quite put his finger on, and usually, he was good at reading people off the bat. But you were a different story. Naturally, you only opened up when necessary, not letting people in if you didn’t have a reason to. So you were guarded, and Roman didn’t like that. He wanted to worm his way into your life, no matter what it took.

If that took delving into his twisted past again in order to get to you, so be it.

AFAB - (assigned female at birth) someone who is born female but can identify with she/her or other pronouns. reader pronouns are gender neutral, so people who use any pronouns can read, but female anatomy will be used and described in this fanfiction eventually.

warnings: discussion of sex, innuendo, smut in the next chapter!

word count: 1860

author's note: hiii welcome to part 4!! I was gonna write smut for this chapter but I didn't want it to be too long, so it'll have to be the next one, sorry!! (; I hope you all enjoy, and if you do, please like and reblog <3

series masterlist | masterlist | add yourself to the taglist here

this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ.

“You have to wear something hot. Like one of your button-ups or maybe something form-fitting? Roman loves someone with confidence.”

“I’m not the most confident person, but he still asked me on a date. Also, how do you know what’s in my closet?”

“I sort of snooped in there while you were showering the other day. Sorry. I got bored, okay!”

You roll your eyes at Sage, trying to hide your laugh but failing.

She is currently assisting you on what to wear to your coffee date with Roman. After filming wrapped for the day, something came up, so he had to go somewhere instead of meeting you in the parking lot. You were thankful for this, so you could go home and actually prepare to look decent. You almost always showed up to set in sweats. 

Having a friend who is a girl is a handful sometimes, but in a fashion situation, it has its perks. Sage definitely had a taste for fashion, whether it was for men, women, or something else. You ponder wearing one of your patterned button-ups. Hopefully, it won’t clash with whatever button-up Roman was likely going to wear because you’ve noticed that was most of his wardrobe.

Sage eyeballs your closet, sifting through it before snatching a red button-up with black and white designs on it, “Ooh, what about this one?” 

You purse your lips, indecisively moving your head to the side, “I could always wear that with some jeans.”

“Good idea. In case of accidentally matching shirts with Roman, at least you won’t have to worry about matching his pants, too,” Sage giggles.

“True,” you scoff, checking your watch for the time. 

You had about 15 minutes until the time Roman set to meet at the coffee house, so you had to hurry and get ready quickly. You and Sage had been fooling around a tad too long.

“Okay, take this,” Sage says, handing over the shirt, “And then these.”

You stare down at the black cargo pants and nod in approval. Sage smiles and gives you two thumbs-ups before you hurry to the bathroom to change and make your hair presentable.

After pulling the outfit on, you study yourself in the mirror. You’ve been wondering all day long why Roman would want to ask you out all day. Well, technically, it was for work, but still. You could’ve hung out at the studio or his office instead. But he chose to take you for coffee. What did he see in you that you didn’t see about yourself? Especially with the whole making you a primary cast member spiel. You didn’t talk to anyone you didn’t have to and often stayed out of the limelight. Also, being an extra was your forte. You liked being dramatic but not up front where everyone could see. However, being a big-time actor has crossed your mind before. This could be your chance to do something crazy and interesting in your life for once. Who knows.

You mess around with your hair and face for a few minutes until everything looks as perfect as possible to you. Walking out of the bathroom, Sage nods her head in approval.

“You look fabulous. Now go eat that man alive!”

You beat Roman to the coffee house.

You’re sitting in the back corner facing the direction of the door, nervously glancing up at it occasionally. You wish you had brought a book or something. But you hadn’t expected Roman to be nearly 20 minutes late by this point. You distract yourself by looking at the menu again, momentarily taking your eyes off the door. 

“I’m so sorry I’m late. The higher-ups are long-winded when it comes to discussing certain things for the movie,” Roman sits in front of you with an apologetic sigh.

“You’re fine, I understand!” you smile, setting the menu down.

“So,” Roman returns your smile, “Decided on what you want yet?”

“I think just a regular coffee will do,” you nod.

“Same here. Hopefully, after the coffee, I’ll feel more up for discussing the script with you. I’m kind of beat right now,” Roman rubs his chin, staring at you.

“It’s whatever you’re okay with. I don’t mind just talking for now,” you say, much to Roman’s delight.

He asks you about your life, like where you’re originally from and why you’re here in Hollywood. After telling him where you’re from and him not having a clue as to where that was, you go on to why you’re in California.

“I’ve always been a fan of theater and how the whole process behind shows and movies works. I went to college for it, even. I learned I’m not the best at being in the spotlight, so I tried the next best thing, which was being a set extra,” you say.

Before Roman can answer, a waitress comes and takes your orders. Her eyes linger on Roman for a tad too long, you notice. You feel kind of awkward about it. You weren’t jealous, but sometimes you forget Roman has women and sometimes men flinging themselves at him. It’s just something you didn’t personally understand, as no one has ever made an effort to express interest in you. 

“Someone thought you were cute,” you chuckle once the waitress is out of earshot.

“Not my type,” Roman dismisses quickly with a wave of his hand.

“Oh really?” you play with a button by the collar of your shirt, “What is your type then, if you don’t mind me asking? She was pretty.”

“I like people who are confident in themselves, but to a degree where they aren’t snobby about it. Someone who is intelligent and knows what they want in numerous ways.”

“Knows what they want, huh? Elaborate on that,” you say, quieting your voice when the waitress returns with your coffee.

You and Roman thank the waitress, and you look at each other before bursting into a fit of giggles once she’s far away.

“Well,” Roman clears his throat, picking up his cup, “About anything, really. Their career, their goals, what they desire in a relationship, sex, whatever.”

You raise your eyebrows in slight surprise, “All good points. Ever meet anyone with all of those qualities?”

“I was with someone for a few years, but they were confident in everything except the last one. Which became a problem towards the end,” Roman sips his coffee.

“Oh,” you purse your lips, “That’s unfortunate.”

“Yeah. Which is funny because they ended up cheating on me.”

“Damn,” you say around the cup of coffee, “Sorry about that. I relate somewhat.”

“The cheating part or the confidence in sex?” Roman smirks.

“Definitely not the sex part,” you feel your face burn in slight embarrassment, “But I have been cheated on before. It’s no fun.”

“Why would anyone cheat on someone like you? You’re,” Roman pauses, letting his eyes wander up every inch of your body that was available, “Perfect.”

“Far from it, but I appreciate that,” you chuckle, scratching the back of your neck.

“No, really. You’re a great person, and I’d love to get to know you better. Who knows, maybe I’ll find out just how confident you are sometime,” Roman gives you a suggestive smile before taking a drink.

“Oh really?” your face burns again, “And how do you plan on doing that, Roman?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I need to know more about you first,” he shrugs, sitting back in his chair, crossing his arms.

“Like what?” you lean forward, resting your head on your fists with your elbows on the table.

“Hmm,” Roman pretends to think hard before leaning forward on the table, resting on his arms, “Biggest turn-on?”

A part of you is wondering how the conversation came to this and whether or not it’s appropriate. Still, at the same time, your crush on Roman is making your brain fuzzy. Even more so with the question he just asked. You almost hesitate to answer, but after all, why not?

“Probably dirty talk. If you’re confident enough to tell me everything you want to do to me, then I believe you’ll do it, and that’s attractive to me,” you say, eyes darting around as casually as possible because you can’t really look Roman in the eyes right now.

“Understandable. I enjoy describing every step to whoever I’m pleasing and watching them get flustered,” Roman says.

“Ah,” your eyes avert to his finally, “Is that your biggest turn-on, too?”

“No. Mine is when someone lets me do whatever I want to them,” Roman relaxes into the chair again, sipping his coffee.

“Oh,” you raise your eyebrows, “And what things would that include?”

Your stomach is bursting with butterflies, your mind racing and wandering to a very suggestive place you haven’t visited in quite some time.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Y/N,” Roman smirks, pushing his glasses up on his nose.

“Yes,” you say confidently, “I would, actually. I’m curious.”

“Curious or needy? I feel like your imagination would do cartwheels with what I tell you.”

You gulp, involuntarily pressing your legs together, “Well, we’ve come this far into the conversation. You asked me, so now I get to ask you.”

“Whatever you say,” Roman chuckles, “I like teasing my partners relentlessly,” he lowers his voice, leaning closer to you, “Until they can’t take it anymore. Then, I start slow and build up gradually. I’ll go until they’re a withering, wet mess. Even after they cum, I’ll continue until I’m satisfied.”

You slowly inhale, trying to keep your best poker face on, “Interesting. You seem like the type to want to be in control.”

You and Roman are now inches apart, eyes locked, and tension thicker than before.

“Would you like to find out, sweetheart?” Roman moves his hand up slowly, running his index finger from your collarbone to underneath your chin, where he lifts it up.

Your eyes widen slightly, “Um, wouldn’t we get in trouble?”

“No, besides, we don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“I want to,” you say quietly.

“It’s gotta be an explicit ‘yes’ or ‘no.’”

You take a deep breath before letting it out slowly, “Yes.”

Your brain is foggy with lust as Roman stands up from the table, slapping down cash on it before offering his hand out to you. You take his hand, standing up and trying not to let your legs wobble. Roman says his condo is about 5 minutes away, walking you to his flashy car. God, you can’t believe you’re doing this right now. Sage was going to ask a million questions. You climb into the car, buckling up as Roman does the same while he starts the car. He rests a hand on your thigh as he drives, causing warmth to spread to your stomach. You can’t help but get lost in your thoughts, imagining what Roman would do to you. You spend the whole car ride in silence.

By the time you arrive at Roman’s, you can feel how wet you’ve become just from your imagination doing “cartwheels,” as Roman put it. 

But here, in the next few minutes, you won’t have to imagine anymore. 

taglist:

@bridgergf @crinimalmindsfan13 @oddlittleminx @axen-gers @alwayslilithnevreve @belovedtylerrr @bonbekahsfav @elliotss @jokersgrf @snazzynacho @sonyaswife @cobra-kaii

[gothcsz]

𝑻𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒇𝒂𝒓𝒆 / Chapter XI.

GIF by tomshiddles

PAIRING: Javier Peña x Original Female Character

SUMMARY: Truths are unveiled and Javi begins to regret ending things with our MC.

WORD COUNT: ~7.4k

RATING: 18+ Explicit topics such as sex, drugs, murder, the occult, religion, cannibalism and other triggering matters will be explored in this body of work. Minors DNI.

CHAPTER SPECIFIC TAGS: discussions of religion, light smut but not between our main couple (rip), another case of detective!javi, lotta plot stuff/exposition dump, other things that I'm probably forgetting.

DISCLAIMER/WARNINGS: The Javier Peña referenced in this body of work is solely based off of the character that appears in Netflix’s Narcos and not the actual person. Very canon divergent and I will tweak things as I see fit to compliment the narrative of this story. While efforts have been made to be accurate in terms of canon timeline, a lot of details will be fictionalized.

A/N: hola primas we're back again with another installment of wtf is going on in this fic?! lmfao i had a little too much fun writing this chapter so i hope u all enjoy it and thank u for reading <3 i may or may not be an august stan idk how we feeling chat?! as always feel free to drop any type of feedback/support on this blog or ao3. i'd really appreciate it <3

♰  read on ao3. ♰

♰  playlist | pinterest | series masterlist ♰

“A woman, a mother, a mother is a very special thing, and other than the Lord Jesus Christ, I think that a mother is one of the most precious gifts that God gives to this world, because the mother is the one who loves the Lord and always seems to be there when we need her. A mother is a very special thing. A mother is a very special thing.” –– Family Tree (Intro), Ethel Cain.

“No peekin’, okay?” August whispers against her neck, his voice filled with playful insistence.

Paloma can’t help but laugh, the sound light in the quiet night. “That’s the third time you’ve told me that. I promise, I ain’t lookin’!” she assures him, her eyes squeezed shut and her free hand covering them for good measure. Her heart races with anticipation, wondering what surprise he has in store for her. She can feel his warmth and the gentle pressure of his hand guiding her forward, heightening her excitement.

Sneaking away from home had been surprisingly easy. She told her father she was going to spend the night at Sloane’s and would be back the next morning, not really feeling like doing her usual show at the bar. At first he had been skeptical, but a few well-placed batts of her eyelashes and a practiced pout later, his resolve softened and he relented with his usual father spiel. She knows she was pushing her luck, but the thrill of the evening and the promise of August’s plans makes it all worthwhile.

She was also cautious not to reveal the location of Sloane’s new home. Instead, she told him that she was just going to the motel in town, maintaining the illusion that her friend still resides there. This little deception is necessary to keep him at ease, even though it means bending the truth.

Now, she finds herself being led to a mystery spot where he has prepared their long-awaited date. She has no idea what to expect, but it doesn’t really matter. The mere fact that he has put so much effort into planning this is more than she can ask for.

As they walk, she feels the summer evening breeze brushing against her skin and the soft rustling of leaves underfoot. The night is alive with the distant chirping of crickets and the faint, sweet scent of blooming flowers.

“Just a little further,” he says softly, his voice laced with a hint of excitement that matches her own. Paloma nods, biting her lip to contain her smile. She trusts him completely, knowing that whatever awaited her would be worth the secrecy and the suspense.

They come to a halt, and he gently squeezes her hand before letting go and moving to stand behind her.

“M’kay, you can open ‘em now,” his southern drawl is like syrup in her ear, his breath warm and inviting. She blinks her eyes open, her vision adjusting to the soft glow, and she gasps softly as she takes in the scene before her.

They’re in the greenhouse, transformed into a romantic haven. Various candles are scattered around, casting a warm, flickering light that dances across the glass walls and lush greenery. In the center of the space, a picnic blanket is spread out on the floor, adorned with an assortment of dishes that she assumes make up their dinner. Cutlery and plates are neatly set aside, everything meticulously arranged.

“Oh, August…” she breathes, her voice filled with awe. Her hand instinctively comes up to clutch her chest then she turns to face him, eyes glistening with adoration. Unable to contain her feelings, she pulls him in for a sweet, lingering kiss; a silent thank you for his thoughtfulness.

“You like it?” he asks with a hint of nervousness. She takes a step forward, her eyes wide as she absorbs the sheer beauty of the setup.

The moonlight streams gently through the skylight window, casting a silvery glow over everything. She almost pinches herself to make sure she isn’t dreaming, the scene is so perfect.

“Like it? I love it! You did this all yourself?” she exclaims in genuine admiration. The flowers that surround them appear even more delicate under the soft glow of the candlelight. Unable to resist, she leans forward to sniff at the peonies nearby, their sweet fragrance filling her nose.

“Had some help, but for the most part, yeah,” He replies with a modest smile. “Here, come sit.” He beckons her over, and she complies eagerly, settling herself next to him and smoothing out the skirt of her dress.

“Well, you outdid yourself. This is the sweetest thing ever,” she leans her body weight against her palm, gazing up at him with a gentle, appreciative stare.

“Let this be the first of many sweet things I do for you, pretty girl. You deserve it,” he replies, winking. Her blush deepens and she finds herself fidgeting with the hem of her dress, her heart fluttering at his words.

Their date goes effortlessly, filled with lighthearted flirting and laughter. He boasts about his cooking skills, and Paloma playfully challenges him, only to be quickly proven wrong when she takes her first bite of the lasagna he’s made. It’s fucking delicious.

She feels a sense of enchantment growing with every passing moment, the romantic setting amplifying her emotions. She mentally chides herself for not pursuing him sooner, for wasting time on the mustached older man who had occupied her thoughts for far too long.

They finish their meal, and just when she thinks the evening couldn’t get any better, he pulls out a small angel cake with the perfect arrangement of strawberries and whipped cream from the picnic basket.

“How did you know this is my favorite dessert of, like, all time?!” she exclaims, eyes wide with delight.

They share a knowing look before answering simultaneously, “Sloane.” Her smile widens, her cheeks aching from how the expression has hardly left her face since she arrived.

August scoops a spoonful of the cake and brings it up to her lips, his eyes twinkling with playful intent. She opens her mouth, maintaining eye contact as she takes the sweet dessert.

She moans softly as the flavors meld in her mouth, the light, airy cake complemented perfectly by the sweetness of the fresh strawberries. “Delicious,” she murmurs, savoring every bit.

He watches her, a satisfied and boyish grin on full display. “I’m glad you like it,” his voice is low, seductive. He takes a bite himself, nodding in appreciation of the treat they’re sharing.

They take turns feeding each other, and she is completely absorbed in his company. He makes her laugh, his eyes swimming with mischief and warmth, and she feels a connection she hadn’t thought possible.

She looks at him, beaming with gratitude and something more profound. “Tonight was amazing, August. You’ve really made me feel special.”

He reaches out, moving a strand of her hair that had fallen forward aside. “You are special, Paloma. And s’just the beginnin’.” He holds her stare briefly and she softens, “Night’s not over yet, girl. There’s still somethin’ I want to show ya.” His words promise more surprises, and she feels her excitement renew, eager to see what else he has for her.

“I’ll be right back,” leaning in to place a tender kiss on her lips, he tastes a hint of the whipped cream lingering there and it takes all his willpower to pull away.

She sighs wistfully, watching him leave. To pass the time, she busies herself by cleaning up. She carefully moves the empty containers into the basket and stacks their dirty plates before pushing them aside.

He returns not too long after, holding what looks like a photo album. Her curiosity piques immediately. “What’s that?” she asks inquisitively, shifting in her seat so her legs are tucked beneath her as he lowers himself beside her.

“A scrapbook…” He trails off, and she can sense the nerves radiating from him. Her brows cinch together, waiting for him to continue.

“‘Fore I show you this… I need you to understand how unique you truly are.” He sets the book down between them, his hand coming up to stroke her cheek affectionately as he gazes deeply into her dark eyes. She doesn’t know what to say to this, so she remains quiet but offers him a reassuring look that encourages him to go on.

“Knew it from the moment I set eyes on ya. At the time, I didn’t know what it was. I jus’ assumed it was another crush on a pretty girl. But then I got to know you, and slowly but surely… everything started makin’ sense.”

There’s an unidentifiable tone in his voice, one that makes her heart beat a little faster. “What do you mean ‘started makin’ sense’?”

He takes a deep breath, his hand dropping from her face as he places the leather-bound book into her lap. The force of it feels significant, almost like it carries the gravity of his words.

“This is goin’ to be a lot, ‘n I understand if you dunno know how to process it all after I show you everythin’. But… can you promise to wait ‘till I explain ‘fore you react?” His eyes search hers, pleading for understanding and patience.

Her heart races with anticipation and uncertainty. “August, you’re scarin’ me,” she giggles nervously, her hands growing clammy at his elusive words.

He flips the book open to the first page, revealing a photograph of a group posing in front of a grand, old church. The faces in the picture seem frozen in time, their expressions filled with a mix of hope and solemnity.

“There was a group in Italy,” He begins slowly, “that believed a new age of peace ‘n tranquility was nearing. They devoted all their time and resources to prepare for it. They were convinced a woman would be the one to bring it into fruition, so they searched for her all over the world.”

He turns the page, revealing more photos of the group alongside the majestic church. The images capture moments of gatherings, rituals, and serene landscapes. she can’t help but feel a strange sense of connection to the story, though she remains unsure why he’s telling her this.

“Why are you showin’ me this?” she voices her thoughts, her curiosity mingling with apprehension.

“Because, Paloma,” He says, turning another page to reveal a faded, hand-drawn map marked with various locations, “They documented everythin’ , kept records, and followed signs. This group believed that the woman who would bring about this new age had certain qualities, certain... traits.”

Her eyes scan the map, noting how meticulously it’s marked, the sense of urgency and dedication evident in the detailed annotations. Her confusion deepens, but she remains silent, partially engrossed by the unfolding story.

He turns another page, revealing a photograph of a necklace, a delicate cross pendant with intricate engravings. “This pendant,” he continues, “was said to be a key, a symbol of her identity.”

Her heart races as her gaze falls to the piece of jewelry. She inhales sharply, her breath snagging. It’s the same pendent that had belonged to her mother. Her fingers absentmindedly go to her collarbone that’s bare since she opted out of wearing it tonight. “What does this have to do with me, August?”

He takes a deep breath, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that makes her pulse quicken. “The more I got to know you, the more I realized you embody everything this group was searchin’ for. Your kindness, your strength, your spirit—it all matches what they described.”

“Are you saying… you think I’m this woman they were looking for? Don’t be ridiculous––”

“Just let me finish.” He cuts her off, looking away briefly and trying to collect himself before relaying the next bit of information. “Then they found her. The woman they’d been preparin’ and searchin’ for. She lived halfway ‘cross the world in the orphanage where she was raised. After gettin’ in contact with her, she agreed to move to Europe.”

She listens intently, her body buzzing with a feeling she can’t explain as she absorbs his words. She waits patiently, her eyes fixed on him.

Another turn of the page, and this time, she gasps loudly as her eyes land on the photo. It’s her mother, clear as day. A photo she’s never seen before, but it’s undeniably Abilene Leighton. She is always told that she resembles her, but seeing her at about the same age Paloma is now is uncanny—they look identical.

“Mom…” Her voice trembles with emotion as her fingers trace the photo, tears welling up in her eyes. He watches her carefully, studying her reaction. He wants to give her a moment to process this revelation, to come to terms with the implications, but at the same time he’s eager to keep unveiling more.

“Her real name was Calmana. The women that raised her in the orphanage didn’t think she needed a surname. From the moment she arrived in their care, they knew she was special. Seemingly dropped off on their doorstep. No one ever adopted her. She was different from the others…” His voice is filled with reverence as he speaks, his words weaving a tale that feels so foreign.

Calmana? The name sends a shiver down her spine, leaving her speechless as her eyes trace every detail of the picture. There’s a haunting beauty to her mother’s image, a sense of mystery that lingers in the air.

He presses on, his tone solemn yet tinged with awe. “Don’t know how they did it, but they were able to figure out part of her family tree. Paloma… you come from a marked lineage, akin to the story of Cain and Abel.”

Her world stills, mind reeling at the magnitude of his words. Her heart pounds in her ears with a mixture of disbelief and wonder.

“According to some religious traditions, Cain and Abel had sisters,” He continues, his voice steady as he delves deeper into the mythic lore. “Calmana was the oldest daughter of Adam and Eve and, in plenty’a sources, the twin sister of Cain. Others say she was his wife. That would make her the first female human who was born naturally. You, your mother are direct descendants of somethin’ fuckin’ divine.”

Her mind spins with the implications of this revelation. The idea that her bloodline is tied to spiritual origins feels dreamlike. Fake. Isn’t everyone technically descendants of Adam and Eve? It’s what she’s been taught growing up.

But as she looks down at the picture again, she sees her mother in a new light—a woman with a story.

She can’t help the way her hand comes up to cover her mouth, overwhelmed by everything he’s saying. It feels like the ground beneath her has shifted, leaving her reeling in a sea of uncertainty. As he continues to flip through the book on her lap, showing proof of every bit of his story, she feels a rush of conflicting emotions—astonishment, skepticism, and a growing sense of unease.

It’s too confusing, it simply must not be true. Yet, with all the texts he’s had her read and all the books they’ve both bonded over, there is a nagging possibility that all this is actually real. The thought has goosebumps curling at her skin, her mind racing with a million questions and doubts.

“No, no way.” She shakes her head, her voice trembling as she moves the leather book off her lap and places it between them. She feels like she can’t breathe, despite being surrounded by fresh air and all this greenery. Every fiber of her being screams for escape, for a return to the familiar, to the world where such tales belong only in the books that she loves to read.

She quickly stands, her movements frantic as she turns to make her exit. August’s eyes widen in alarm, and he follows after her, his voice pleading as he reaches out to stop her.

“Paloma, wait––” His words are urgent, filled with desperation. “I asked you to wait ‘til I was finished to react. Please… just hear me out, ‘n then you can decide what it is that you wanna do.”

His words hang in the air, a silent plea for understanding and patience. She pauses, her heart pounding in her chest as she wrestles with her unrest. She knows she can’t simply walk away without giving him a chance to explain, to unravel… whatever the fuck this is.

Her back is to him and she wipes some of the tears that managed to spill. With a shaky breath, she turns to face him, her eyes searching his. “Okay,” she whispers, her voice barely audible above the rush of blood in her ears. “I’ll listen.”

He lets out a brief sigh of relief, his shoulders relaxing as he beckons her over again, eager to resume the exploration of the scrapbook together. She hesitantly steps over to him, her body still trembling with the heaviness of her mother’s past as she lowers herself back into a seated position on the blanket.

“Your momma… well she was the one who was supposed t’ bring this new age into order,” He explains, his tone informative, “but the group disbanded before they could follow through with it. They lost track of one another, and she ended up here in the States with a whole new life.”

“August,” she begins, her words trembling with shock, “How do you know all this?”

A silence falls over them like a veil.

“The woman that left me all this…” His voice is somber, his gaze distant as he recalls the memories. “She was part of the original group. Told me stories whenever I helped her out. At first, I thought she was some crazy old broad, so I jus’ let her talk. Then she started showin’ me photos and all kindsa crap, and that’s when I actually started payin’ attention to her ramblings.”

Her eyes widen in realization as his words sink in. The pieces of the puzzle start to click into place, connecting the dots of the journey.

“She’s the reason I started this group, s’why I started lookin’ into things on my own. She moved away abruptly, and it wasn’t ‘til I got this house and found that scrapbook that I knew why she left it all to me. She wanted me to find that woman and carry out what they couldn’t back in Rome.”

This feels like an out-of-body experience, really, as if she is standing outside of herself, watching as her mother’s past is revealed to her.

It explains so much, she thinks, her mind jumbled as she recalls all their shared memories. How she was cagey when Paloma asked about her childhood, how she was always so vigilant of her growing up. Now that she knows this new side of her mother, she doesn’t know what to make of it. The woman she thought she knew, the woman who raised her, suddenly feels like a stranger—a mysterious figure shrouded in secrets and untold stories.

Who was she, really? Did her father know all of this?

Her silence is deafening, in the air like a dense fog, and he tentatively reaches out to caress her forearm, gently urging her to look at him. She meets his gaze, her misty-eyed expression a mix of emotions—sadness, confusion, and a glimmer of something else.

“Then I found out she had passed years ago, which left you, the next in line to fulfill this… prophecy,” He continues, his voice soft yet filled with conviction.

“Me?!” She can’t help but snort, though it’s tinged with tears. The idea feels absurd, impossible.

“Yes, you, my little dove,” He replies with unwavering intensity. “I told ya you were special, ‘n you can’t sit here ‘n tell me you haven’t felt the magic that’s embedded in your bones. You’re one of a kind, Paloma. A gift to humankind that must be treasured. Think of all the pain and suffering in this world… think of how you can be the one to end it all.”

The enormity of this newfound responsibility is too big for her to fathom. She looks into his eyes, spotting the earnestness and sincerity there, and for the first time, she allows herself to entertain the possibility that maybe, just maybe, there’s truth in the stories that are intertwined with her own life.

As they sit together in the quiet of the greenhouse, surrounded by the soft glow of candlelight and the scent of flowers, she feels a sense of purpose stirring deep within her—a spark of something powerful, waiting to be unleashed upon the world.

He was right. This is a lot.

Her face must say it all because he draws nearer, enveloping her in his comforting embrace. She doesn’t move at first, but then he places a soft kiss to the crown of her head, and she lets herself go. Her shoulders drop, a heavy sigh leaving her as the weight of it all settles in her chest.

“If you need time ‘n space to process this––I understand,” he murmurs, his voice soothing. “I jus’ had to tell you, angel. Had to make sure everythin’ was alright before I dropped it on your lap. Knew if I had told you the first day we met you woulda called me crazy ‘n sent me on my way.”

“M’tempted to do that now…” she mutters jokingly against his neck, nuzzling her face there and taking a deep breath, letting his scent fill her lungs in an attempt to ground herself.

He chuckles, the sound vibrating through his chest, and she melts further into his touch. “Go ahead. Told ya you were free to do as you pleased after I was finished… ‘n well… s’all I have for ya.”

Okay, there are no more twists. That comforts her some. She pulls back to look up at him, her tear-stained cheeks and beautiful brown eyes glowing softly under the romantic lighting, making her look breathtaking. Like a true angel, one that can bring so much good into this world.

Her mind is still reeling, but in his arms, she feels a sense of security. “This is a lot to take in, August,” she whispers, her voice barely steady.

His eyes soften, and he gently brushes a strand of hair from her face again. “You’re stronger than you think, Paloma. ‘N whatever comes next, we’ll face it together. You’re not alone in this.”

His words wrap around her like a warm blanket. Much needed reassurance. She takes another deep breath, feeling the overwhelming storm of emotions begin to settle.

She leans in to press their lips together and he hesitates at first. He murmurs her name in protest, but she deepens the kiss with a sense of urgency. Her lips are soft and plump, molding against his with a fervor that he can’t resist. The heat between them is palpable, the shift in the air thick with their shared desire.

His resolve drops as he succumbs to her. It’s not long after that he’s got her spread out on the blanket, naked and his tongue buried in her cunt while her fingers tangle in his hair. 

She cries his name out while she comes, her legs trembling as he kisses his way up her body, whispering sweet affirmations and filthy promises against her skin.

You deserve the world. I’ll treat you right. You’re such a good girl.

He takes her right there, fucking her passionately. His kisses are devout, his touch tender yet insistent, as he shows her just how beautiful and remarkable she truly is. She feels utterly vulnerable, caught up in the overwhelming intensity of the moment. Every fiber of her being responds to him, her senses alight with the raw, unfiltered emotions coursing through her.

The perfect date he orchestrated was already enough to sweep her off her feet. But then he gave her more: life-altering revelation of her family history, a truth so profound it has reshaped her understanding of herself.

She clenches around him, coating his cock with her slick release as her orgasm rattles her harshly. He follows not much after, filling the condom then collapsing onto her. His weight presses her into the floor before he rolls onto his back, taking her with him so she straddles his hips. Still joined, they savor the afterglow, their breaths slowly returning to normal as their hearts pound against each other’s naked and sweat glazed chests.

Looking into his eyes, she sees a reflection of a future he envisions for them—a future where she can make a difference, bring about change, and fulfill the destiny he’s convinced she’s meant for. And in this euphoric state, with her heart and soul laid bare, she knows she’ll believe anything he tells her, because with him, anything seems possible.

The next part of Javier’s investigation involves diving deeper into Jessica Valdez’s background. She was the only one to be taken and held captive for a period of time, indicating that there is something specific about her that caused the perpetrator to deviate from his usual methods.

He isn’t sure what to expect from her family. Families react in a myriad of ways to an investigator’s presence, especially when he needs to look through personal belongings with a fresh perspective. As he arrives at the Valdez home, he prepares himself to be as sympathetic as possible, turning on his Southern charm to its full effect. To his surprise, Jessica’s parents are eager to help. This relieves him, and he can’t help but note the distinct difference between them and the Thornton family. While the death of their daughter had shattered the Thorntons, it seems to have brought the Valdez family closer together.

Mrs. Valdez guides Javier to Jessica’s room, her presence lingering at the doorway as if reluctant to leave. She offers a small, encouraging nod before stepping back, leaving him to his investigation. He surveys the room, taking in the floral pattern of the bedsheets and the posters that decorate the walls. He doesn’t find anything at first, just typical things you’d come across in a twenty something year old’s bedroom.

He can’t help but compare it to Paloma’s room, thinking about how similar yet distinctly personal each space is. Javi scoffs. No matter how hard he tries to focus, she always finds a way to sneak into his thoughts, her presence lingering like a stubborn fucking ghost.

He rummages through the vanity, but finds nothing unusual—just makeup products and other miscellaneous items. Frustrated, he stands in the middle of the room, hands resting on his narrow waist as he rolls his tongue over his teeth, deep in thought. What had the assailant seen in her that made him want to keep her captive? What did she possess that the others didn’t?

Determined to find answers, Javier makes his way to her closet. A distinct groan from the wood flooring stops him in his tracks. Intrigued, he retreats a few steps and hears it again. His brows furrow as he shifts his weight, pinpointing the source of the sound. Kneeling, he notices one of the floorboards is slightly raised compared to the rest.

His blunt fingers try to pull it free, but it doesn’t budge. He quickly goes back to the vanity, grabbing a metal nail file to help loosen the board. With some effort, he manages to detach it completely, revealing a shallow hiding spot beneath. There, lying in the small cavity, is what looks like a diary. He wastes no time in taking it into his possession.

The diary has a fragile lock, but with the nail file still in hand, he carefully jimmies it open. As the lock gives way, he flips through the pages, his eyes scanning for anything that might shed light on why Jessica was different. The entries are personal, detailing her thoughts, fears, and dreams. He feels a pang of guilt for invading her privacy, but he knows this might be the key to understanding what set her apart.

One entry catches his eye, dated just two weeks before she was taken. Jessica writes about a man she noticed watching her, how she felt both intrigued and unsettled by his presence. The details are chilling and Javi’s pulse quickens. This could be the lead he’s been searching for.

As he continues to read through it, Jessica talks about meeting this guy who’s promising her the entire world. Her writing is whimsical, capturing the excitement and mystery of young love. She doesn’t go into detail, carefully avoiding specifics. She explains that this mystery boy told her that if she dared speak or write about all he’s revealed, none of it would come true.

His jaw tenses. To him, it sounds like a classic manipulation tactic, designed to keep her quiet and compliant.

“Bullshit,” he mutters under his breath, his exasperation amplifying as his fingers dig in to temples; alleviating the building migraine. He can’t believe she fell for such a transparent ploy, but he also understands the allure of a charming stranger spinning grand tales in small towns like these. It pisses him off that this guy—whoever he is—managed to weasel his way into Jessica’s life and fill her head with empty promises. He probably did the same with the others.

He takes a deep breath, trying to steady his emotions. He knows getting irritated won’t help him find the answers he needs. He forces himself to focus, flipping through more pages to see if there’s any additional information about this mystery guy. The eccentric tone continues, filled with hopeful musings and vague references.

He has to identify him, the one who captivated Jessica and possibly led to her captivity. He gently closes the diary, his mind racing with new questions and a burning desire for justice.

With renewed purpose, he exits the room, ready to confront whatever challenges lie ahead. Her fantasy-filled writings might have masked the danger, but he sees through it. Her descriptions of a mysterious suitor aren’t just youthful reveries—they’re potential clues.

He tucks the diary securely under his arm and heads downstairs, stopping to make conversation with her parents on the way out. Very subtly, he asks them questions about any new people in Jessica’s life, a boyfriend or a close guy friend she might have been spending time with recently. They aren’t much help in this regard, reiterating the same information they’ve already provided in various statements. Of course, Jessica wouldn’t have mentioned this secretive relationship to them, but he still had to ask—just in case.

The drive back to Seminary is quiet as he mulls over this discovery. He can’t shake the gnawing feeling that he knows who’s behind this, but his thoughts are muddled by the disdain he harbors for the blonde, tattooed sleaze that fits the vague description Jessica had written in her diary.

The charming promises, the elusive nature of this mystery man. They match the profile of the younger guy he’s had his eye on for a while—this local troublemaker known for his smooth-talking and shady past. This connection is worth looking into, especially since he already has the plans to tail August’s group.

Entering the sheriff’s department, he immediately notices Romeo chatting with Lorraine, who is gathering her things to leave for the day. Javier glances at his watch, seeing that he should have left hours ago.

“You workin’ a double?” he asks, flashing the older woman a charming smile as she bids them both goodnight.

“Had a meeting with Abbott over the phone then I did some paperwork. Paloma’s out with her friend ‘n won’t be back till morning. M’not really lookin’ to bein’ at home alone. Might stop by the bar to kill some more time.”

At the mention of her, he feels that all-too-familiar internal reaction—the one he experiences every time she’s brought up. No matter how hard he tries to bury his thoughts of her beneath his work and other bullshit distractions, it’s impossible when Romeo talks about her so frequently.

And why wouldn’t he? Romeo is none the wiser to what Javier and his daughter have been entangled in for the past few months. His guilt and desire swirl together once again, creating a complex cocktail of emotions that he has to suppress each time her name is mentioned.

He knows exactly which friend she’s with, and considering what he just discovered in the diary, he can’t help the way his heart races at the thought of Paloma being in danger. His rational mind tells him there’s no actual threat—everything is circumstantial. But he’s desperate for answers, and unfortunately, the person who currently fits the bill is too close to her for comfort.

“She not doing a show tonight?” Javier asks, his tone laced with practiced nonchalance. It’s Friday, and he knows how much she loves and looks forward to her weekend performances.

“Nah. Said she was havin’ a sleepover with Sloane at her place. Well, shit, the motel. S’where that poor girl is livin’. Dunno why they didn’t just stay at the house––she kept sayin’ that she doesn’t wanna be there all the time and that she’d just be in town. So I figured, what the hell, she is twenty-six years old. I shouldn’t be so goddamn strict on her all the time.”

He processes this new information. The fact that Sloane lives at the motel is news to him. If she stays there, it’s possible that others in their circle do too. He wonders what information he can get about them from the employees.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Javier responds, forcing a smile. “She’s an adult and can take care of herself. Still, you’re a good dad for looking out for her.”

Romeo’s face softens with appreciation, but his thoughts are already elsewhere. He needs to visit that motel and scope out anything he can get. The urgency of his mission pulses through him, driving him to take steps he might later question. But for now, he’s only focused on getting as much dirt as he can on this group.

He taps his fingers rhythmically on the surface of the entrance desk, his mind resolutely focused on his goal for the night. “Seems to me like you should be enjoying a child-free night. Just don’t drink yourself to death down at the bar, alright?” His lips quirk up into a small smirk, eliciting a chuckle from Romeo, who agrees with him before gathering his things and leaving Javier alone in the station.

His eyes drift to the clock on the wall. The overnight deputies are due in an hour, giving him a small window of time to prepare.

With his notes updated and a clearer picture forming in his mind, he closes the diary and slips it into an empty drawer at his desk. He stands, stretching his legs and rolling his shoulders to shake off the tension before heading towards the door, a determined set to his jaw. He tells the two deputies he’s going out over his shoulder, not giving them the time to reply before he’s in his cruiser and heading towards the Trails End motel.

The first car he sees when he arrives is Paloma’s, and he isn’t sure if he should be relieved or not. Parking right by the entrance, he finishes his cigarette, the neon lights of the flickering sign casting an eerie glow over his hardened facial expression.

He wonders what room she’s in, what she could be doing to pass the time, what she’s wearing. Javier curses under his breath, his lips tingling at the phantom feeling of her soft skin beneath his touch. He recalls how he could feel the pulse in her neck amidst burying himself inside her, each beat syncing with his own racing heart.

What an evil fucking thing it is to reminisce on such a memory like this. It’s regressive, the opposite of what he should be doing, but she has such a tight grip on his heart–– he wants her to squeeze it until it pops into a bloody mess. Maybe then he’d be free of this torment of yearning for her.

He exits his car, flicking the finished butt of his cigarette into a nearby bin. The cool night air doing little to calm the heated thoughts swirling in his mind. The motel’s façade is weathered and uninviting, everything one would expect from a dingy place like this. He pauses at the entrance, drawing one last deep breath before stepping inside.

The lobby is dimly lit, a faint smell of stale smoke and cleaning products hanging in the air. The clerk at the front desk looks up with a bored expression as Javier approaches.

They engage in small talk for a moment before Javi is pulling out the mugshots of August, Sloane, and Gabriel. He slides them across the counter and asks the man what he knows about them.

“Oh yeah. That’s Miss McCarthy!” The attendant points to the picture of Sloane. “A real sweet thing. Stayed here with those boys for a good while before she moved out a few weeks ago. Her checks from the bar still get mailed here, and she’s back every week to get ‘em.”

“Moved out? She’s not living here anymore?” Javier’s eyes narrow, intrigued yet confused.

“Nope. Got a house out there somewhere.”

“Is she here tonight?”

The man gives him a wary look but quickly backs down under the intensity of the sheriff deputy’s stare.

“No. Haven’t seen her since last Sunday when she came in to get her check.”

He digests this information. Sloane’s absence complicates things. He had hoped to walk away tonight with maybe a few more bad stories about her and her companions. Instead, he’s left with more questions.

His jaw clenches as he exhales through his nose, collecting the mugshots and shoving them back into his back pocket. “Alright, thanks. Mind if I take a look around before leaving?”

“She ain’t in no trouble, is she?”

“No trouble. Just following up with something.”

The attendant shrugs. “Suit yourself. Just don’t cause any trouble.”

Acknowledging him with a nod, Javier bids a brief goodnight before stepping out of the stuffy office and into the dimly lit parking lot. His footsteps echo against the pavement as he makes his way towards her car.

His frustration mounts at the revelation of the unlocked door. With a touch, it swings open easily, the interior bathed in the soft glow of the overhead light. His brows furrow as he scans the car, his irritation growing with each passing moment.

He conducts a brief search but finds nothing of significance until he flips down the visor. The keys tumble out with a muted thud, landing on the seat. Javier curses under his breath, his exasperation boiling over at the sight. She left her car unlocked and the keys inside—an invitation for trouble.

With a resigned sigh, he returns the keys to their place, his movements deliberate. He closes the door with a little more force than necessary, the sound ringing out in the quiet night.

Turning away from the car, he resumes his patrol of the motel grounds. He glances at the few rooms with lights shining from within, unable to discern which one she might be in—but he knows she’s not here at all. This fuels him to continue sleuthing.

The realization of her absence only gnaws at his unease. Where on earth could she be? Is she in some kind of trouble? Did she purposefully lie? Is she being shoved in the back of a van to meet her demise? These questions swirl in his mind, his fists clenching at his sides in a futile attempt to contain his growing anxiety. His nostrils flare with each agitated breath, the tension radiating off him like heat from a flame.

He knows he shouldn’t let himself get so worked up, but he can’t help it. The mere possibility of something happening to her fills him with a sense of dread that he can’t shake.

Determined to find something, He presses on with his search. He even manages to corner one of the motel’s housekeepers, hoping for any shred of information that might shed some light. Unfortunately, she offers nothing new, echoing the same vague responses he received from the front desk attendant.

Feeling like he’s hit a dead end, he retreats to his cruiser, the frustration mixed with anxiety pressing heavily on his shoulders as he goes through the motions of lighting another cigarette.

It isn’t until days later that Javier spots her leaving the library, a spring in her step as she rounds the building towards the alleyway. His heart races as he quickly exits his truck and crosses the street, determined to catch her alone. His conscience whispers for him to turn back, but he ignores it, driven by his relentless need for answers.

He calls out her name, and she freezes, turning sharply to face him. He opens his mouth to speak, but the words elude him, leaving him feeling foolish for being so easily affected by her presence.

Rolling her eyes, she begins to walk away. “Wait!” he calls after her, but she shows no signs of slowing down. Closing the distance, he reaches out and grabs her forearm, hoping to halt her retreat.

“Don’t fuckin’ touch me!” She hisses, pulling viciously from his touch and the action hits him straight in the gut, having him set his jaw firmly because he knows he deserves this.

“Where the hell were you last Friday night?” Javier demands, his words sharp and impatient, as if he holds authority over her whereabouts.

She stares at him incredulously, a disbelieving laugh escaping her lips. “You’re unbelievable,” she scoffs, shaking her head. There’s a new intensity in her gaze, a depth he’s never seen before, and it unsettles him. Though always spirited, her demeanor now is charged with an unfamiliar energy, conveying emotions he struggles to decipher.

“You use me, break my damn heart, have the audacity to tell me to leave you alone–– and when I finally do, you’re actin’ like this,” she accuses, her voice heavy with vexation. “Treatin’ me like I’m just some doll you can play around with ‘til you get bored then get possessive over when you can’t control her. Have you not already caused me enough pain?”

For a fleeting moment, she softens but she can’t help it with the way his mopey brown eyes tug at her heartstrings. Even after all the hurt he’s caused.

He’d miss the flash of vulnerability in her stare if not for how attuned he is to her. She’s right, and he fucking knows it. He’s made a bigger mess of things, a realization that pierces through him like a dagger.

But then he remembers the anxiety that had crawled over him once he realized she wasn’t at the motel, how pissed he’d gotten at her recklessness.

“That’s not what this is about,” he retorts through gritted teeth, “All this shit that’s going on and you’re just disappearing off into the night. There’s a psychopath out there, preying on girls like you and I’m just––” 

“You’re just what?” she interrupts, her voice laced with a mixture of defiance and exasperation. “Please don’t tell me you’re ‘looking after me,’ because that’s a damn joke. I can take care of myself. Like you said–– s’not your job to be babysittin’ me. Go do what you’re here to do, Javier, and leave. me. alone.” she concludes, her tone mirroring the sharpness he had directed at her that night at the party. “And stop followin’ me around.” With that, she turns on her heel and walks away, leaving him standing there, tussling with the burden of his own sense of wrongdoings.

His gaze follows her retreating figure with a heavy heart. He catches sight of August, leaning arrogantly against his motorcycle with an air of superiority at the end of the alleyway. Javier’s entire body tenses, standing there seething like a furious statue. Anger flares along his skin, transforming his melancholy into fury.

August’s smug posture, coupled with the intimate embrace he shares with her, ignites a jealous fire deep within Javier’s chest.

Every movement, every touch between them feels like a taunt aimed directly at him, a reminder of what he has lost, even though she wasn’t his to begin with.

His hands curl into tight fists, jaw twitching as he watches his possessive hand boldly grope her ass. It’s a sight that downright torments him as his mind is consumed by thoughts of what could have been and what she currently has with this piece of shit.

Paloma dons the helmet and straddles the bike behind August, pressing herself against him, and that is enough to finally get Javier to tear his gaze away. The roar of the motorcycle engine echoes in his ears, drowning out the sound of his own tumultuous emotions as they disappear into the distance, leaving him alone with his bitter regret.