#and as per usual i hope it's not illegal

[sapphoherselz]

love the foxes having their gasted flabbered bc of the "I asked" thing when in my heart I KNOW that neil was staring like this at andrew:

all that man heard was static noise mind empty no thoughts just "proper name, place name, back story stuff" celine dion singing i will always love you in the distance hearts shaped petals dropping from the ceiling like sure whatever you say prettyboy

[uwooyoungs]

//

[rafesbabyg1rl]

You were asking for reqs for rafe x reader, if you are taking them, I have one in mind. In which rafe is extremely possesive of bsf reader, and gets easily jealous. One day she was at a kook party, and a guy approached her and they started to talk and that sh*t went down, rafe got aggressive and almost beat the guy to a pulp. Reader is like a shy cute innocent, bimbo type. And smut after the scene if you write it.

Summary: Innocent!reader X possessive!Rafe, bestfriend!reader X bestfriend!Rafe. Summary is basically the anonymous ask!

Warnings: Rafe is possessive of reader. Established friendship. Rafe almost beats a guy to death. Mentions of drugs (no actual drug use), alcohol consumption. Lots of smut; p in v, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, loss of virginity, SLIGHT degradation (some praise too). The classic 'what are we' at the end. The L word.

Word Count: 6.1k

Author Note: Hello Beauties! Thank you for the support and kindness you've all shown me. And thank you for this ask, I really enjoyed writing it. I hope I did your idea justice. Sorry that this is a bit long, it just sort of happened. Also, I hope you all enjoyed the holiday yesterday, well those that celebrate. I'm hoping to finish part four of The Watcher soon so I can get it out, life has just been so exhausting. Anyways, please enjoy and feel free to leave feedback! I love you all, thank you so much!! Stay freaky y'all.

Your best friend, Rafe, had asked you to go to a party with him. Well, more like he had told you to go. Although it’s not like you’d ever miss the opportunity to party with your best friend. So, here you are; walking around the side of Topper’s house, looking for Rafe. You two didn’t come together, he got here before you. He knows you don’t love being around his ‘friends’ and their various illegal substances, even though he says he’s clean, he likes to have time with them before you get there. 

You round a corner, now entering the Thorton’s backyard. You look for Rafe as you work your way through the loud and busy crowd. You hear a friend call your name, you turn your head to her, and she waves you over. You approach her and a few others with a smile. You greet them.

The other girls chat amongst themselves as your friend speaks up, shouting over the music. “Hey!” She’s over enthusiastic per regular, probably a bit drunk too.

“Hey!” You shout back. 

She begins, “Oh my god! I have to tell you something. Guess who I saw—”. Usually, you’d want to hear all the gossip she’s about to ramble to you, but not right now. “Do you know where Rafe is?” You shout over her, cutting her off.

“What?” She asks, stepping closer to you so she can hear you.

“Do you know—” You’re suddenly interrupted by some guy standing beside you. You turn to face him.

“Hey.” He says, his tone confident. A cocky grin spreads across his face.

“Hi.” You smile politely, “Do I know you?”. You say hurriedly before turning back to your friend. She looks between you and the guy a few times before facing you and giving you a knowing smirk. You know what that look means and before you can say anything, she walks away. Leaving you alone with him. You roll your eyes at her playfully, although you really are annoyed that she didn’t tell you where Rafe is. 

Slowly, you turn your head back to the guy, flashing him another fake smile. He grins again before speaking, “No…no you don’t.” He pauses, stepping a bit closer to you so he doesn’t have to shout over the music as loud. “I’m Devin.���

Your fake smile is getting awkward, but you don’t know what to say. You don’t care about talking to him right now. “Nice to meet you, Devin. B-but I need to–”

Devin cuts you off, “Let me get you a drink.” 

You laugh shyly, “Oh...I-I’m okay, I actually have to…”

“Let me just get you a drink, it’ll only take a second.” He moves closer to rest his hand on your lower back for a slight moment, to get you to turn toward the drinks. 

Rafe was on the back patio sitting on one of the couches when someone had mentioned to him that they saw you. He went to go and find you, which is when he spotted you laughing with some guy, who moments later put his hand on you. Rafe’s already had a few drinks tonight, so his judgment clouded even more than usual, especially when it comes to you. 

As you walk towards the drinks, Devin’s hand falls and he follows close behind you. 

After a moment, you hear a mix of gasps and ‘ooohh’s’ from everyone. You turn to look behind you where everyone seems to be gathering. You find that Devin isn’t behind you anymore.

Immediately your eyes land on some commotion in the crowd, you squeeze through the ring of people forming around the area. Shit. You run forwards, pausing just before the fight. 

Devin is flat on his back, Rafe straddling him. Rafe has Devin’s shirt clenched in one fist, holding his head off the ground as he repeatedly drives his other fist into Devin’s face. 

“Rafe!” You shout. Keeping your distance, not wanting to get too close while he’s out of control. You’ve seen how he can get. In the years that you two have been friends, you’ve had to calm him down from countless fights, since nobody else can ever seem to do it. But, when nobody else steps in to try and stop the fight, you step closer, knowing something has to be done. “Rafe, stop! Stop it!” You scream. 

Devin’s completely unconscious, his nose is probably broken, but you can’t really tell; his face is a swollen mess of blood and bruises. You can’t stand here and watch anymore, and nobody seems to be listening to your cries for help. Because nobody is stupid enough to get in Rafe’s way while he’s like this. You step behind Rafe, putting your hands on his shoulders. You try to pull him back all the while trying not to get punched.

“Rafe! Look at me! Look at me, Ray!” Rafe turns his head to the side, momentarily stopping his actions, letting Devin’s head rest on the floor. You put a hand up to cup his cheek. Speaking quietly now as you plead to him. “Rafe…c’mon, that’s good, h-he’s had enough…”. Your tears slow, but your breath is still erratic as you look at the unconscious man. 

Rafe turns back to the guy, your hand falling from his face. Rafe pulls Devin’s head up, like he was going to punch him again. Instead, he lets go, letting the boy's head hit the floor. Rafe stands up without a word and grabs you by your wrist, tugging you away. 

Before you know it, you’re being shoved into your best friend's truck. His random mumbles don’t make much sense to you, talking about ‘he got what he deserved…Should’ve fuckin’ killed him…yeah, should’ve fucking killed him for that. Touchin’ what’s mine…’

When you get to Tannyhill, Rafe wastes no time pulling you into his room. You sit on his bed stiffly, waiting silently as he paces the room.

“Rafe?” You call out softly. “You okay? What happened back there? What was that?”

“He touched you.” Rafe states. His tone is low and rough, sending a chill down your spine. Even after all the years you’ve been his best friend, you still never know how to act when he’s like this. 

“Barely. He barely touched me.”

Rafe completely disregards what you say, shaking his head and blowing out a jagged breath as he continues to pace across his room, a bit slower now. “Why was he even talking to you? You were supposed to be with me. I told you to go to the party, not him.” 

You take your chance to get a word in as he spews out angry nonsense. “I was looking for you and he started talking, ‘wanted to get me a drink. I was just being nice; I didn’t know who he was. I didn’t even want to talk to him, I was looking for you, Rafe. I don’t even see why that matters–”.

He pauses, looking over at you. His movements are sharp as he strides over to you. “Don’t see why it matters…?” He repeats your words, more for himself than to you. “It matters because you’re mine.” His words are sharp, definitely directed to you that time.

“Rafe…you almost killed him…because of me? I don’t get it Rafe; I don’t nearly kill all the girls you fuck.” You state.

Rafe lets out a breathy chuckle before speaking. “Still don’t get it, huh?” Rafe laughs. “God you’re so innocent. So naive.” He pauses, stepping closer until he’s standing in front of you, looking down at you as you sit on his bed. “I need you, y/n. I can’t…god, I can’t even fuck anyone else anymore without thinking about you. I can’t let anyone else have you, got that? You understand now?” He asks harshly as he runs a rough hand through your hair. 

You try to swallow the lump in your throat. You look up and nod weakly, causing Rafe to flash a devilish grin. “Yeah?” He asks quietly, his voice coming out low. 

“Yeah…” You mumble back brainlessly, too shocked by your best friend's confession. You had always thought Rafe saw you purely as a friend. Although thinking back, you don’t know how you ever thought that with how he acts, especially lately. 

No time is wasted as Rafe quickly leans down, capturing your lips with his. The first kiss is hesitant, and you don’t kiss back. But when he pulls away to look at you, trying to gauge your emotion, you lean in. Your best friend takes that as a sign to continue. His lips quickly find yours again. When he feels you start to kiss back, he escalates things. Kissing you more roughly now, acting as though he’s a starved man and your lips are his meal.

His hand moves from the back of your head to your throat, lightly squeezing. At first you don’t even realize, too distracted by the feeling of his tongue entering your mouth. But when Rafe squeezes your neck even tighter, you move your hands to reach up and wrap around his wrist in an attempt to pull it away. Your mouth still occupied by his, the kiss is too fucking good to break. It feels like everything you didn’t know you needed. He’s giving you what nobody else could, because only he knows exactly what you need and exactly how to give it to you. Your lack of breath reminds you of your situation and you pull away from the kiss momentarily.

Rafe’s grip loosens as he pulls his head back so he can look into your eyes. “Tell me you want this.” He mumbles breathlessly. 

You search his eyes as you catch your breath. Nodding, you finally speak up. “I want this.” You say definitively.

Not even half a second later, Rafe’s body crashes down onto you, pushing you down so that you’re laying on his bed. Rafe has one arm beside your head, holding himself up as his other remains on your neck. He hovers over you, one knee pressed between your thighs. Rafe leans down, his lips attaching to your neck, kissing and sucking frantically at your skin. He’s been waiting so, so long for this. 

His lips find your ear, softly biting at it before whispering. “Let me take care of you, baby. You want that, hm?”. While waiting for your response, his free hand traces down the side of your body until it reaches the hem of your skirt. He moves his face to the other side of your head, giving some attention to your other ear. “Need your best friend to help you feel good…give you what you need, yeah?” His hand slips under your skirt, slowly gliding up your inner thigh, sending shivers through your whole body.

“Yes–” A moan escapes your lips, interrupting you. Your eyes meet his before you continue. “Please Rafey…need you…”

His lips meet yours at the same time his hand meets your clothed cunt. He kisses you sloppily, exploring every part of your mouth with his tongue. Your hands come up to rest on his chest, your touch sending shocks through him. He rubs you through your panties. He can feel as you grow more needy, the wet spot on your panties getting larger. 

He can’t believe this is actually happening. He’s wanted to do this to you for so long; he’s dreamt of this moment happening in almost every way possible, but this…he never could’ve imagined this feeling. “Fuck…you’re so wet f’me already.”

“Ray…please…” You can’t help but rut your panty-clad cunt against his hand, searching for friction. Usually you’re never this bold, but you’re comfortable with him. You always have been, he is your best friend after all. You just pray that he understands what you need. 

Except Rafe doesn’t respond in the way you had hoped for. No, instead he pulls his hand out from under your skirt, eliciting a whine from you. He presses a genuine, wet kiss against your parted lips before moving down your body. Rafe slides down, kneeling onto the floor in front of the bed. He grabs you by the back of your knees and tugs you down towards him until your ass is at the edge of the bed. Without breaking eye contact, he swiftly removes your skirt. He spreads your legs, making them bend so your heels are on the edge of the bed. Eagerly, he presses wet, sloppy kisses up your inner thighs, his eyes trained up on you.

The sight of him like this between your thighs, doing exactly what you need…it drives you crazy. You lean your head back, letting out a moan as Rafe mouths at your entrance through the fabric your panties.

It’s not long before he’s peeling back your panties as well, sliding them off of you completely. Your legs threaten to close from insecurity, but your best friend is sure to hold them open.

“Fuck…this pussy’s even prettier than I imagined, baby. Soaked…just for me.” Rafe leans in, his mouth hovering just above your core. He silently asks for permission.

Being your best friend, Rafe knows that you’ve never done this before. No guy had ever wanted to date you while Rafe’s your best friend, they could see that you’re his, even if you couldn’t. 

His breath is hot on your bare center, he watches as you squirm and clench around nothing. Eagerly you nod, giving him permission. And within seconds his mouth is on you.

At first, he’s slow; gentle as his eyes continue to meet yours. He licks a warm stripe up your center, briefly pulling back to watch your reaction. Your head falls back, your mouth parted, and eyes closed as you experience this new sensation that your best friend is so generously giving you.

Rafe begins to lick and suck at you. His tongue circles your clit as he looks up, knowing you’d like it. A moan slips past your lips as your hand flies to the back of his head, the other gripping onto the sheets beside you. 

“Nnnghh…f-fuck, Ray…” You whine as his tongue fucks you relentlessly. He only mumbles against you in response, sending vibrations through your core. This felt even better than you had ever thought it would. When you heard people talk about sex, you didn’t think it could actually be this good. Though maybe that just has to do with the fact that Rafe’s your best friend, and he knows exactly what you need.

“Yeah?” One of his hands leaves your leg and moves to grope your tits through your clothes. “You like this, huh? You’re just a slut for your best friend, hm? Letting me have you like this…”

“N-need you…” You mutter, grieving the loss of his tongue on you. He stares at you with a devilish glint in his eyes. 

“I know, baby. I know.” Rafe’s mouth continues to work on you. His tongue gathers some slick from your entrance and brings it up to your clit, circling it with his tongue a few times before repeating the process. 

The feeling in your lower stomach is starting to build. It’s getting hard for you to sit still for him. It’s even harder for you to stay quiet. A plethora of moans escape you as Rafe’s mouth stays busy between your thighs. Your hand holds his head down, your other grips the sheets underneath you. 

“Rafe…please. S’too much, I can’t—” You whine. 

“Ah ah ah…stop running, baby. I got you. I got you.” Rafe’s grip on your thighs tightens, keeping you in place. “God,” He mutters breathlessly. “You taste…you taste so fuckin’ good. Hiding this from me all that time, hm?” He leans back down and continues his ministrations on you.

Your toes start to curl, the band in your stomach threatening to snap. Suddenly he stops and before you get the chance to look down to see why, one of his fingers is prodding at your entrance. “Gotta stretch this pretty little pussy out, yeah? Don’t wanna hurt you.”

You nod, allowing one of his thick, long digits to slowly slide into you. You almost scream when he starts to move it, his mouth working on you at the same time. Rafe adds another finger, now thrusting two in and out of you. 

“Fuck baby, you’re gonna squeeze my cock so good. Jus’ gotta get you used to this, hm? You gonna let your best friend be the first to fuck you?” Rafe asks. You nod in response, agreeing to his words. Rafe’s fingers spread apart inside you, stretching your hole, preparing you for his cock. His tongue pauses again as he looks up at you and correct his previous statement. “The only one to fuck you.” Rafe puts his head back between your thighs, his fingers fucking you mercilessly as his tongue sucks at your bud. 

You nod again, followed by a whine. “F-fuck…Ray. I-I think I’m gonna…”

“Yeah? You gonna cum for me, baby? Hm?” 

“Mhmm…yes, fuckk–” You respond, your fingers fighting to grasp onto the little hair he has. Your thighs begin to squeeze around him, causing him to pull his head up against the force of your hand on him. 

“Just a little more, baby. You can take it. I know you can. You gonna let me help you finish? You wanna cum?”

“Yes! Yes! Please Rafey…please let me cum.” Your begging makes him chuckle briefly before going back down on you. His tongue moves with precision, working on you with a purpose; to make you cum. 

Without warning, the band in your stomach snaps. You scream out his name as his tongue circles your sensitive bud and his fingers pump in and out of you slowly. Your best friend continues to work you through your first real orgasm. You’ve never felt anything like this. Why the hell did you wait so long to do this with him?

“God…baby. You’re so fuckin’ perfect. You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear those pretty sounds.” Rafe carefully slides his fingers out of you, making you clench around nothing at the loss of him. He gets up from his knees, standing over you again. Rafe’s face glistens with your slick. His hand moves up to brush your hair back while he brings his free hand up to your mouth. “Open.” He orders. You oblige and he pushes two digits into your mouth. “Taste that? Taste how fuckin’ good you taste?” He pulls his fingers back, immediately moving down to kiss you. You can taste yourself on his lips. Rafe climbs on top of you, his mouth finding the sweet spot behind your ear. He whispers, “You okay?”

“Mhm…better than okay.” You reassure him. Your legs are still shaking with the aftershock of your orgasm. 

“Good.” He mumbles against your skin. “‘Cause I’m not even close to done with you, baby. We’re just getting started.” He doesn’t wait before he’s pulling off your shirt, kissing down your chest. Soon after, he unclasps your bra with one hand, pulling it off of you and tossing it onto the floor somewhere. 

His lips are vicious, attaching to any and every bit of your skin. His hands gently cup your breasts, his mouth finding and attaching to one of your nipples. His eyes stay trained up on your face, he likes seeing how you react to his touch. He pulls back, straddling your lap. Your hand shoots out to grab the hem of his shirt, trying to tug it upwards. He smirks and quickly does it himself, tossing it aside. He watches you like prey as your eyes skim over his bare chest. 

It’s not like you haven’t seen him shirtless before, you have, many times. But no matter how many times you see him like this, you’ll never get used to it. You’ve never seen him in this way though. It’s different, more intimate. You’ve never shared this kind of intimacy with anybody before. And you’re glad you’re doing it with your best friend, whom you’re comfortable with. 

The low light of his bedside lamps reflecting off of his toned skin, damp with sweat. You let out a slow breath as you take in the sight. “Fuck.” You mutter. 

Rafe leans down, kissing and nipping at your earlobe. He whispers, “Like what you see?” He laughs. 

You nod your head eagerly. “Mhmm…”

“Use your words baby, you’re a big girl, aren’t you?” 

“I…y-yes.” You whine as you wriggle underneath him, trying to squeeze your thighs shut in search of some much-needed friction.

Rafe knows what you need. He knows that you’re ready now; ready to give him everything, let him take your innocence, your virtue. He uses one hand to prop himself up as the other works at his belt. Once you realize what he’s doing, you try to help him out, eagerly unbuckling his belt as he kisses you passionately, like he’s never kissed anyone else before you; like you’re the only girl on this fucking planet. 

Once his belt is off, you work at his pants. He leans up so he can tug them off, throwing them aside with the rest of the discarded clothes. All that’s left between the two of you now is the thin fabric of his boxers. You can feel his hardened form pressing into your leg as he kisses you, practically devouring you. Without thinking about it, you find your hand tugging at the waistband of his boxers. You beg. “Please”, your lips whisper into his ear as he bites at your neck. “Rafey…”

He leans back again, this time getting off of you and standing at the side of the bed and in front of you. You can’t help but touch yourself as Rafe frees himself from the constraint of his boxers. You watch as his hard cock springs up, hitting his stomach when it’s finally freed. He smirks, leaning down to remove your hand from yourself. 

“I got you, baby. I got you. I’ll take care of you.” He mumbles, moving his hand over your core again. His strong fingers circle your clit. Your breath hitches as you watch him touch you, his other hand holding the base of his cock.

“Rafe?” You manage to ask through your cries. 

“Hm? What is it?” Rafe says your name softly, encouraging you to continue. 

“Will it hurt?” You’ve heard that the first time can be uncomfortable. And judging by Rafe’s size, this was going to be more than just uncomfortable. But that doesn’t mean you’re going to back out of the situation, you need this. You need him.

Your best friend’s expression becomes more serious as he looks at you. His hand comes up from your core to brush a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering. “It might, baby. It might be a little uncomfortable for a moment, but I’ll do my best to make it feel good, yeah? I’ll go slow. And if you don’t like it I want you to tell me. You’re okay, baby. It’s just me, your best friend. I’m gonna take care of you. M’kay?” You nod in response, his eyes darting between your eyes to get a sense of what you’re thinking. Rafe clicks his tongue. “Ah, ah. Use your words, pretty girl.” His hand reaches out for your chin, tilting your face up towards him. 

“Please Ray…”

“Please what?”

“Fuck me…” The words sound so vulgar coming from your sweet, innocent mouth. He’s never known you to speak this way, but he’s not against it. He pumps his fist over his cock a few times, his head leaning back as he lets out a groan. “Please Rafe…I-I need you in me…”

Your words snap him out of his amazement. “Atta girl.” He replies. You can feel his tip gently rub against your slippery entrance. Your warm juices on his cock feel better than anything he’s ever experienced. You’re like a drug to him. A drug that he can’t get enough of. 

He pulls back before you can get used to the feeling of him. He leans over you, reaching into his dresser drawer. When he moves back over you, you see the shiny square wrapper in his hand.

You place your hands over his as he tries to open the condom. “No…”

His head snaps up at you. “No…? No what?” He asks, confused. “You don’t want to do this?”

“No…Rafe, I-I want this. I just…I want to feel you. No…no condom.” You explain.

“Fuck, y/n. Are you sure?” Rafe’s disbelief and shock is very apparent in his tone. 

“Yes, I’m sure. I’m on the pill.” You confirm.

“God, how much more perfect can you fuckin’ get?” He chuckles, making you huff out a quick laugh. 

Soon his lips are back on yours as he uses his hand to guide his glistening, pink tip back to your puffy cunt. Slowly, he pushes into you, just so that the very tip of his cock is inside of you. He looks up to your face, pending your reaction. 

“F-fuck…Rafe.” Your hands move to his hips, pushing him further inside. Rafe gives in, pushing another inch into you. “Mnghh, fuck…Rafe.” Rafe settles there for a moment before giving you another inch or two. Each time he moves, he looks to make sure you’re still enjoying it, giving you a minute to adjust each time. When he finally bottoms out, you feel so…full. The pain is there, but it doesn’t last long, fading into a light discomfort as your soft walls mold to his shape. You involuntarily squeeze around him.

“Shiiiitt, baby…Squeezin’ me so tight.” He pauses to kiss you, his lips soon finding that soft spot behind your ear that makes you shiver. “M’gonna move now, alright?”

“Mhm…please…” You whine. You hook your arms under his, bringing your palms up to grip onto his back. Rafe continues to kiss all over your neck and chest as he slowly pulls out of you, until only the tip is left inside. Without warning, he pushes into you a bit quicker this time, with a bit more force than before. But you’re not complaining. You cry his name out, your nails digging into his shoulders. He begins to move at a slow, steady pace as he whispers sweet nothings into your ear. “F-fuck…” You yelp, gripping onto him even harder.

“Fuck, baby…your nails, they hurt.” He mumbles amusedly into your ear as he nips at it. Immediately your grip loosens. You feel terrible but can’t manage to muster up an apology since you can’t think clearly with how his cock is repeatedly kissing your cervix with each thrust. 

“Faster.” You beg, pressing your forehead into his arm. He listens cautiously, carefully picking up the face. He lifts one of your legs over his shoulder. The new position allows him to hit an even deeper spot inside of you. When his digits start to circle your clit you almost let out a scream, making him chuckle. 

“Such a fuckin’ whore for me, hm?” He laughs as he fucks you senseless.

“Fuck…Rafey, no, I…I can’t. Can’t take it.” You moan, throwing your head back as your eyes squeeze shut. 

“You can and you will.” He speaks emotionlessly, overtaken by pleasure. Rafe’s hand moves from you clit up to your throat again, he applies a bit of pressure. Your hands leave his back and wrap around his wrist. Your eyes stay shut as your face contorts into that of pure bliss. His thumb slides into your mouth and you suck and bite at it, trying to distract yourself from the overwhelming feeling of him fucking you. You don’t see how you can ever stop; this feeling is…unlike anything else you’ve felt before. “You got this baby. M’almost there. You can let go, baby. Just let go f’me.”

Sooner than later you feel the newly familiar feeling of pressure building in your lower stomach. When it snaps, your body tenses up, a wave of moans escape your mouth as the band snaps and pleasure washes over you. Rafe continues to fuck you slowly, his movements becoming more sporadic than strategic.

“Fuck, where do you want it?”

“My pussy, please Rafey…fill me up?” You ask, eyes wide with tears as you look up at him. “Please?”

“Shit, you sure?” Rafe groans, barely able to hold on any longer.

“Y-yes...I’m sure.” Only seconds later you can feel his warm seed spurting out inside of you. Your gummy walls soaking him in as they squeeze around him, milking him for all that he’s got.

“Fuckk y/n. Do that again.” As he thrusts into you without any specific rhythm, you obey his words, squeezing tightly around his length again. Rafe lets out a guttural moan, tossing his head back for a moment before looking at you again, watching how well you take him, as if you were made for him. The way he fills you up you is like pieces of a puzzle, just meant for one another. “Shiiitt…you’re so fucking tight. Squeezin’ ‘round your best friends cock so good.”

After you’re both worked through your orgasms, he pulls out of you. You groan at the loss of him, feeling a big opening left where he had been. Rafe leans down to press a deep, meaningful kiss to your lips. He pulls back, wiping your hair and sweat from your face with a proud smile.

“God, baby. You did so good, so fucking good. That’s a good girl. My girl, yeah?” He leans down again, pressing a kiss to your neck. Rafe whispers in your ear. “m’so proud.” Before pulling away completely, he presses a kiss to each of your cheeks, your nose, and one final kiss to your forehead. 

You turn on your side to face him as he lay on the bed beside you. “Rafe…” Your voice shows your exhaustion, but also your hesitancy.

He turns on his side to face you as well, propping his head up against his hand. “Hm?” He says with a smile. He can’t help it, it’s impossible for him to see you and not smile after what you just did. 

You flop back down onto your back, staring up at the ceiling. It’s too hard to say this while looking at his beautiful smile. “That was…” 

“Incredible?” He interrupts, his fingers lightly tracing up and down your arm. 

“What was that?” You blurt out, scared that if you don’t say it now then you never will.

Rafe’s smile fades quickly, he props himself up on his elbows, staring down at you with furrowed brows. “Woah woah, woah. Hey. What? What d’you mean?”

You give a light shrug, his fingers no longer moving over your skin. You avoid looking at his pretty eyes. “I mean like…what happens now?”

He sighs, laying back down next to you, looking up at the ceiling. “Well, you’re my girl now, yeah? I thought that was obvious.” 

“Your girl? The Rafe Cameron I know doesn’t do girlfriends.” You say lightly.

“That’s because I never wanted one. I never…needed one, I’ve got you.”

“So…we’re friends?” You ask, attempting and failing at trying to hide your emotions.

“We are, aren’t we?” Rafe responds, not knowing what his words imply or how they’ll make you feel.

“Yeah…yea we’re friends.” You say dryly. 

He turns his head to face you. “Hey. Y/N. What’s wrong? Hey…hey, talk to me.”

“Nothing, Rafe. I’m fine.”

“Jesus, no you’re not. C‘mon baby, what is it?”

“Nothing!” You snap. You’re angry about your own reaction, feeling stupid once the words leave your mouth. Grabbing the sheets, you cover yourself up.

“Did I do something? What’d I do?” Asks Rafe, making you feel worse about yourself. It’s not his fault you feel like this. “Is it what we did? Look, I’m sorry if—“

You cut him off, not being able to listen to him blame himself. “I just…I don’t think friends do what we just did.”

“Jesus, y/n. Look…” He trails off, cursing himself. “Do you not wanna be my girl or something? ‘Cause I can—“

“No, Rafe. I just…I don’t get what you mean. Your girl?”

“Yeah.” He says, confused.

“Like…your girlfriend? Dating? Us?”

“Fuck. Yes, baby. My girlfriend.” Rafe says the word as though it’s a pain to say it. “Will you be my girlfriend? Please?” You could tease him about the way he’s practically begging you.

“Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?” You joke, not being able to resist. Rafe laughs, glad to hear your usual self. 

“Well, I’m kinda hoping that I’m your…boyfriend, now.”

“Hmm…let me think…” You say, tapping your chin as if this is something you need to contemplate. You can see his demeanor sadden from the corner of your eye, causing you to look over at him. “What’s in it for me?” You add, a smirk threatening to appear on your face. You can barely hold back your laughter at this point, but he still looks so sad, like a puppy who can’t have a treat. “Jesus Rafe, I thought you’d never ask.” You don’t even give him enough time to respond before you’re on top of him, his lips immediately seeking yours.

“Yeah? You mean it?” He asks between kisses, almost nervously. 

“Of course I do, Rafe. ‘Promise.” 

You always know just what to say to him to calm down his mind, he loves that about you. “Fuck, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this. God, I fuckin’ love you.” Your eyes widen at his confession, you look down at him. He’s almost just as shocked as you are. He didn’t even know he felt that way. The words just slipped out, but they felt so right. “Fuck, no, I meant—“ Rafe starts, but you cut him off. You kiss him again,  passionately. This kiss shows him exactly how you feel, somehow being more intimate than having sex with him was. 

“I love you, Rafe. I promise.” You know how he can feel like everybody is against him, so you try to reassure him as much as you can. You’re the only one who’s ever made him feel cared for; he just never wanted to fuck things up with you. “Please just…can you promise me that you’ll stop beating up random strangers who talk to me? ‘Cause I don’t care about them, Rafe. I care about you.”

This is all so new, talking to each other in this way. But it’s how you’ve both always felt. “But y/n, he-“ Rafe pauses, reconsidering his words for you. He sighs and then mumbles, “Yeah…I’ll try.” He looks back at you, you with a stern look in your eyes. “I will. I promise.”

You smile, leaning down for a kiss. Quickly, things start to escalate again. Rafe flips you both over so he’s on top. He leans down to kiss your neck, sucking and nipping at it as he works his way down, kissing every inch of you. 

“Mnmh…fuck…” You moan.

Rafe smiles against your skin. “Yeah, baby? That feels good huh?” You only nod eagerly as a response. Rafe takes hold of his already hard cock, using his fist to pump over himself a few times, letting out a low growl. He rubs his dewy, pink tip over your sticky hole. 

You let out a moan, still being sensitive from your previous orgasms. “F-fuck…Rafe, m’too sensitive, s’too much.” You whine.

“Shh…shhhh baby, it’s okay. I’m not gonna do nothin’, jus’ wanna show you how proud of my girl I am.” His mouth works it’s way down, landing back between your thighs. Your boyfriend softly bites at your inner thighs, his eyes staying trained on you as your face contorts in pleasure. Eventually he finds your soaking core, lapping up the mix of your juices. You feel his fingers gather some of your arousal, mixed with his cum. Before you know it, those fingers are deep inside your throat. “Taste that, baby? Hm? Taste how fucking good we are?” 

You nod, whining when his mouth finds your core again. His tongue flicks at your most sensitive bud, making you jump. Although Rafe only holds onto harder the more you try to run. “Baby, it’s okay. Let me take care of you; clean you up.”

It doesn’t take long until you’re yet again, a shaking, crying mess underneath him. When his mouth works it’s way back to yours, you can taste both of you on his tongue. “Fuckin’ love this pussy. I fucking love you.”

You smile a weak, tired smile at him. He rolls off of you, flipping you both on your side so he can spoon you. He kisses your shoulder, his fingers lightly tracing mindless shapes into your skin. “I love you too.” You respond as you drift off to sleep in your boyfriend's arms.

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed. Please feel free to leave more asks, I will most likely get to them at some point. Thank you!

[giamee]

╭┄───────────── 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐔𝐕! ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

featuring. hsr men 〆 wc. 1.0k

art creds. 海仑 on weibo 〆 contains. mentions of being drunk/drinking, some suggestiveness but still sfw

gia's notes. new layout bc im allergic to keeping a theme 🏰 also i'm writing this while i procrastinate an essay. which is due in like.. 8.5 hours. and i am 2k over the word limit. joy upon joy.

╰┄➤ ❝ request. anon 〆 What HSR men says when they are drunk. ❞

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ they’re SWEET when they’re drunk.

his voice gets a touch softer, a little lower so that you have to crane your neck and lean in real close to him to catch what he's saying over the bustle of the bar that you went to and the chatter of your friends that you came with. it’s like you’re in your own little universe with him, the sweet pinkish tint to his cheeks and the dilated pupils a look that you could definitely get used to- not that his usual more reserved look didn’t make your heart hammer in your chest, too.

but it's just so rare to see him like this, for him to look at you like you hung the stars in the sky, like every word that passes your lips is a prayer, whose hands furl and unfurl in his lap like he's itching to touch you (you wish he would).

it's not like he really says much, per se, instead opting to watch your every move wide-eyed and with a slackened jaw. you're growing warm under his gaze, and you stutter out that he'll really have to quit staring at you like that before you get the wrong idea. that does little to stop his actions, though he does flash you a sheepish smile.

"i'm sorry, you just look so beautiful."

you almost choke as you take a sip of your own drink.

gepard, dan heng (imbibitor lunae), moze, luocha

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ they’re FLIRTY when they’re drunk.

it should be illegal for him to be this much of a smooth talker with that many drinks in his system. he's completely and utterly shameless, one arm rested casually against the back of your chair and his whole undivided attention on you as he throws every line he knows right at you hoping that one will land.

you'd be lying if you said that you weren't enjoying this attention from him, though there's the remaining sober part of you screaming how he's just a friend over and over, but when he dips his head low to whisper into your ear you're delighted to find that part of you audibly drown out.

everything about him is just so... tantalising. the way his silver tongue darts out to swipe across his lip, him not missing the way your eyes follow the movement. the way he leans back in his seat, the hungry yet calculating look in his eyes doing something to you. the way you see him deliberating over something before finally opening his mouth to speak.

and when he asks you if you want to get out here with him, it's only natural for you to accept his offer.

aventurine (realistically he gets sad when he drinks but that is not romantical or lighthearted at all) jiaoqiu, gallagher, boothill

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ they’re TALKATIVE when they’re drunk.

even on a good day, he's known to just talk, and talk, and talk if he gets going. that particular quality only seems to be amplified by the alcohol coursing through his system. he's been talking your ear off for the past half hour or so, a never-ending flow of words escaping his lips as he seems to he telling you just about everything that's on his mind.

you see the glances from others, the pity edging its way to concern adorning their features, but little do they know that you don't mind one bit.

while he may not be everyone's favourite to talk to, you've always found something within you compelled to sit and listen while he talks. he's always had something interesting to say, always been wary of if you are feeling tired or bored (not that you ever would be of him), and over your few encounters you've grown to be rather fond of him.

he's still talking now, an enthusiastic gleam in his eye as you smile and nod, propping your chin against your hand as you get comfy and study his features unbothered.

he sees the affectionate look on your face and stops for a moment, smiling widely and stuttering a few times before continuing.

dr ratio, sampo, mr reca, argenti

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ they’re TIRED when they’re drunk.

it's something that happened once, a few months ago when you had drank with them for the first time. you had all been in a group, and you had been chatting away with your friends rather livelily (i dont think that's a word) until you promptly felt a weight against your shoulder.

your reactions are a bit sluggish, but when you do turn to see just what it could be you're surprised to see a head of hair, and your tipsy brain just about manages to realise he's slumped over, dozing off on your shoulder, much to the amusement of everyone at the table.

you find it rather funny yourself, sneaking your phone out of your pocket to snap a rather unflattering-angled photo of him (which he still manages to look good in) that you send to him the next morning (he smiled to himself as he saw your grinning face in the corner of it and saved it to his camera roll).

you don't quite have the heart to wake him up or shrug him off, so you sort of just... let him be and continue talking like nothing had happened. some nondescript amount of time later he wakes up, blinking uncertainly as he gains his surroundings, before jolting up ramrod straight and apologising to you.

you giggle, tell him it's alright and tease that he must be getting old to be asleep this early, which is met with an unimpressed look from him.

but from that night onwards, it happens a little too... often to be some chance.

every time he drinks, without fail, his head drops onto your shoulder. it's somewhat of a routine to snap a photo of him like this, to admire it in secret before sending it to him, and it's somewhat of a tradition now for him to wake up and instead send you a reserved smile before letting himself doze off on your shoulder again.

not that either of you are complaining.

blade, jing yuan, caelus, welt

➤ IF YOU LIKED THIS, TRY ... do you want somebody like i want somebody?

[livfastdieyoung69]

Don’t worry I don’t mind it at it.

Can you a 2004/05 Randy x reader: the reader is the wwe diva who Randy had a crush on despite her fellow divas warn her to stay away, it’s wasn’t until Randy the legend killer tells her that he is in love with her after the reader wins the women’s championship.

BIRDS OF A FEATHER

(Randy Orton x gn!reader, who’s kinda bitchy)

Considering you had just won quite the prestigious title during the last pay per view, you were finally given a bit of a break. You still had to show up for Raw the following Monday, just no wrestling. Obviously, you loved your job just as much as every other professional wrestler did, but some days you really wanted a break from the physical torture you put your body through.

After the camera greets you and the crowd cheers from the view of you on the jumbotron, Championship belt over your shoulder, you’re practically skipping to catering with pride. You rush to the line after picking out a table for you and your shiny, new belt which you gently place on the cheap folding table you’d chosen, much like the ones under the ring.

“Hey. Congrats on your win.” A calming voice, deep too, very deep, speaks from behind you after calling your name. Turning your head, you find a smirking Randy Orton, something you seem to find a lot these days.

“Hey, Randy! Thanks.” You responded, a smug grin covering your face before you turn back and grab a serving of the usual catering options. A little bland and boring, but it was full of protein and carbs, which is what the locker room needed. You would have invited him to sit with you if he didn’t have an entourage of snickering friends behind him, watching the two of you interact. “You did pretty great too.” You offered after a moment of silence, looking up to find him still gazing at you.

”Listen,” The way he said your name should be illegal. Really everything he says should be, somehow everything sounded good coming from him. If he told you he ran someone over you’d kiss him on the cheek and tell him you were sure it was an accident. “I was thinking, maybe later we could go-“

Suddenly your arm is grabbed, and you’re yanked away from Randy and out of the catering line with a yelp.

“I need to talk to you, it's urgent!” Trish Stratus speaks quickly as she speeds out of the catering room, you stumbling behind her.

”God, I’d hope so with the way you’re pulling me!” She shoves you into an empty locker room and follows you in.

”What the hell, Trish, my belts in there! I’m hungry and you totally made me leave my food in the catering line and someones gonna throw it away or something!” You yelled, a little harshly, but mostly just annoyed and unforgiving in your hunger.

“Just wait a second.” Your eyebrows raise and your mouth falls open in astonishment as she raises her hand in your direction, the other resting on her jutted hip. She’d pulled you away and acted like everything had to happen just this second, and now she was telling you to wait?

“Don’t tell me to wait a second-“

“Sorry, I’m here.” Stacy Kiebler pants, her back against the door she just pushed through.

“What the hell is this? Is this a fucking intervention from the blondes, cause if it is thats like the whole roster and I’m not waiting for all of you.” You get a laugh from Trish, but Stacy only rolls her eyes at you with a scoff. Not that you were joking anyways, you really did get bitchy when you were hungry. Well, bitchier.

”Only these blondes. We just wanted to tell you to stay away from Randy.” Trish starts, quickly getting to the point. Your eyebrows furrow, confusion taking over as you take a seat on the wooden locker bench behind you.

”Uh, what do you mean?” You trail off with a small laugh, finding their reasoning for this pretty ridiculous. Stacy calls your name from the side of Trish as if it were obvious why.

”He follows you around like a little puppy dog. But like ripped, and really hot,” Trish glares at her. “Anyways, he's totally into you, and you should be worried.”

“What am I supposed to be worried about? He’s been way nicer to me than, like, basically everyone here.” You lean back into one of the lockers, over the conversation. Considering the company you worked for, and your high up position, you’d think it’d be obvious you can take care of yourself.

”Okay, well, you’re kind of a bitch and he's a douchebag so I think you naturally get along.” It was true, but Trish still loved you. She was just about the only person who could deal with your attitude. “All we’re trying to say is he's not the best guy out there. Randy’s RKO’d both of us, we’re prime examples of his bad behavior!” You stand with an aggravated sigh and roll your eyes.

”Well, I don't know what to tell you, he's never RKO’d me,” You start making your way to the door. “And if he tries I’ll rip his eyes out or something.” You mumble as you pass the two of them and slam the door on your way out, rushing back to catering in hopes to find not only your title still there but also your food.

Thankfully, your title was fine. Your plate, not so much. And your favorite option was gone thanks to Trish and Stacy taking so long with their dumb ‘intervention’ so you grabbed what was left and tried to swallow it down, which wasn’t going so well considering you were pouting and doing nothing but sitting and staring at your new paper plate.

The seat next to you slides out, the one to your right, the one on the left holds your title. Randy slides in it with a grunt and plops the plate you had made earlier right in front of himself.

“Ohmygod, Randy! You saved my food for me, that's so sweet!” All thoughts of your conversation in the empty locker room leave you as the thought of a full stomach comes forward. The way he was looking at you didn’t help either. Before you can take your plate though, he scoots it to the other side of the table with a smug grin.

”Magic word?”

”I take my compliments back. You suck.” You gave him a glare but he only put his hand up to his ear. “Ugh, c’mon!” He still gave no response so you finally gave in. “Please, Randy?” That was probably the sweetest you could be. Fake, but the sweetest you could be, and luckily it worked. He slides it all the way to you and you're quick to start eating. He even grabbed you one of the cheap, plastic sporks. He watches you dig in and the two of you hold awkward conversation for some time, enough time that you’re almost done eating.

“Anyways, earlier, I was gonna ask if you wanted to go out and have dinner? Offer still stands.” You stop chewing for a second and look up at him, before leaning back in your chair with a smug grin and finishing your bite.

”Y’know,” You started before taking another bite. Its always fun to keep a man on his toes. “My friends all hate you.” Friend, technically, just Trish. As mentioned, you didn’t get along with very many people and you were pretty sure Trish had recruited Stacy because they had both been RKO’d. “‘Cause you, y’know, RKO’d them.”

“Is that a no?” He sounded pretty disappointed. Looked it too.

”Oh, no, we can go to dinner. You’re hot and sort of considerate to me atleast, so.” You take your final bite with a shrug. “I just wanted you to know what you’re getting yourself into.”

He watches you stand from your chair and grab your title, quickly throwing your plates away. Suddenly you stop right before you leave catering and look at him over your shoulder.

“And you’re paying!”

ive found the secret to writing, its instrumental music with no words i just listened to the daredevil soundtrack on repeat

this was fun to write, i love writing bitchy reader if you couldn’t tell from my mjf stuff plus i feel like it really fits with this time period of randy. really any time period randy, someone get him a bitchy s/o, it just makes so much sense to me

PLEASE REMEMBER, I ONLY WRITE GN!!!!!!!! I’LL STILL WRITE A REQUEST IF IT SAYS FEM, I’M JUST GOING TO WRITE IT GN!!!!

[thestarfishinjootsoffice]

Hey I was thinking of something really cute and I couldn't get it out of my head 😅 what if slashers ( Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, Thomas Hewitt, Freddy Krueger.) Reaction to child! Reader putting a bandaid on them and kissing it when they get like a scratch or something. My little niece does that to me and I think it's so cute 🥹

AHH MY REQUEST IS SUCH A MESS RN BUT THIS IS TOO CUTE sorry if this was choppy, it's 10 pm rn and I have no energy.

My gm asked me where the bandaids were while I was writing this woah.

Michael 🔪

Michael always got hurt during his killings. Of course he did it was consequnces for his actions it was no biggie.

But one little person didn't think so.

You secretly got a bandaid from the bathroom the night before since you knew when Michael would attack and get hurt.

Your parents were sure that they weren't gonna get hurt this night since they never did. But still didn't allow you to go out.

But that didn't stop you, you waited till it was 12 or 1 am and climbed down from your window (pretend you live in the ground floor if you don't) and worked your tiny legs away to your waiting friend.

You saw your massive friend behind a tree and you ran up to him with the bandaid in your hand and you saw that he had a small cut on his bicep.

And you immediately went to the rescue.

Michael had spotted you as per usual but what he didn't understand was why did you have a bandaid in your hand. Did you get hurt?

His question was soon answered as you took out the seal and gently placed it on his wound. Michael, confused but felt something warm inside him at this interaction.

But made him look like my profile picture was when you placed a small kiss on the bandaid. Omg.

"I hope you get better Michael." baby you said with a cute small and he thought he was having a seizure because his body shook from the wholesomeness and wanted to go pounce on someone so it'd go away.

Every now and then he purposely gets small scratches or wounds, just small enough not to freak you out but big enough to alert you. He loves likes them get better kisses from his illegally adopted kid.

Jason 🪓

Jason in the winter, sometimes gets scratched by carrying big logs of trees and although it was nothing compared to the injuries he gets from victims, you still wanted your dad to be unscathed nonetheless. There wasn't much visitors in the the camp in winter anyway.

He placed the fire wood inside the fireplace but he was careless and small little red lines on his forearm appeared after dropping them near his arm. You were watching him while it happened, he brushed it off and turned to you but saw you nowhere.

After 3 minutes of searching you around the house, with a non pleasant feeling coiling in his stomach, he saw you coming out of the bathroom.

He was about to mutely scold you but you held something in your hands.

He waited for you to reveal what you were holding but you pointed to the chair in the room and he figured you wanted him to sit down. And so he did.

You went over to his side and bought his arm out and carefully placed the bandaid on his lined arm. Jason was a bit shocked but slowly melted as he giggled at the thought of his child caring for him.

And he almost died when you kissed it. He placed his huge arms around you and almost cried thinking about what he did to deserve such an angel baby like you.

He had been so lonely without his momma, he was so lucky to have you by his side. Besides his anger, you were one of the many reasons he still wants to live.

Pamela just adores his baby boy with his grandchild bonding.

"don't be so clumsy next time dad :)"

He was one lucky daddy.

Thomas 🩸 ⛓️

Thomas didn't get love nor cared for, that was for sure. And he thought you wouldn't be any different but he still loved you regardless.

You heard your dad rear his chainsaw as your family had found yet another bodies of food. One victim was persistent and your dad almost cut his leg off! It was unfortunate he couldn't see how on edge you were.

But you made sure today, you were show him how much you cared for him. And so that he should be more careful from now on.

Though he wasn't hunting, but he got burned by accidentally brushing the palm of his hand against the hot pan luda was cooking on.

Now he sat on the couch looking at his now red palm. Seeing this, you rushed to the garage and found a med kit, now looking through the med kit you finally found a bandaid.

Now walking back the living room you saw hoyt yelling at Thomas for whatever reason and went back to his car. Thomas getting ready to get up, was pushed back down by a small, weak, body.

He looked over and saw you, showing him a bandaid and quickly ripping off the seal and placing it cautious on his palm. This was a surprise to Thomas but he didn't budge, scared that he might mess u somehow and make you angry.

He was so happy to have received something so pure and lovely from his little kid. He was smiling so big. And he made sure to always protect and be with you when he realised you had kiss on where the aid was placed.

"be careful papa"

Freddy 💤

Such things as scratches or wounds never bothered Freddy, as he could always just regenerate them back in an instant.

And he was always in the dream world anyways. But his intentions weren't harmful when it was towards you. But didn't really think you would patch him up if he got hurt, if anything you probably think he's a scary high ranked dream demon who is unbeatable.

After messing with some poor people, he had a deep cut on his shoulder and he thought what your reaction would be of you saw it. Would you freak out? Would you cry? Would you scream?

Fun was all about freddy's life so why not test it out. He brought himself into the outside world and found you in your couch.

He surprised you by yelling boo in your face and it worked, now the shocked expression on your face was even wider when you saw the leceration on his shoulder. He was laughing at your face but shut up and looked at you as you ran somewhere.

Well... He had his answer now. How boring though. As he was about to mess with you more, you appeared with a bandaid in your hand as you climbed on the couch and placed it on his shoulder. It was now Freddy's turn to get shocked.

Now he couldn't believe what he saw when you kissed on the yellow thin piece of paper. "I don't like seeing you get hurt."

He was shocked but he couldn't help the smile creeping on his face, out of nothing but pure happiness. Damn you reminded him of his mom... So angelic like.

[celticcrossanon]

BRF Reading - 7th of September, 2024

This is speculation only

Cards drawn on the 7th of September, 2024

Question: When will the truth about the Sussex children comes out? Days, week, months, years?

Interpretation: Not until Prince William is in power (King or Regent)

Card One (Days): The Ace of Wands in reverse

The Ace of Wands is one of the sex cards of the tarot, specifically referencing male sexual energy (wand = phallus). It is in reverse, which is a No. So the initial message from this card is that the truth about the parentage of the Sussex children will not be released.

Wands are the fastest cards of the tarot suit, representing days, and the Ace represents the number one, so as a timing card this says one day, i.e. right now, but it is in the reverse. This tells me that the truth is known and could be released at any time, but someone/s are stopping it from being released. The image in my mind is of a pack of hounds straining at the leash, held back by an unseen hand. The truth is ready to come out, people know about it and are ready to report on it, and someone is holding them back.

The meaning of the Ace of Wands in reverse is delays, blocks, a lack of enthusiasm for something, hesitancy, which all fits with the timing energy as per above. Someone is blocking this news from being released or is hesitating over releasing the news.

Card Two (Weeks): Justice in reverse

Swords is the suit that represents weeks, and while we don't have a sword card here, we do have the sword of truth on the Justice card held by the same figure that appears on the Ace of Swords.

Justice in reverse is a No. We will not hear the truth about the children in the time frame of weeks. The injustices caused by the cover up of their births will continue during this time period.

Swords can represent legal matters, and Justice is a legal card, so it could be that there are legal delays in exposing the truth or, alternately, that there is something illegal going on that blocks the truth from coming out.

Justice in reverse has the meaning of injustice, dishonesty, corruption, unfairness, avoiding accountability etc. The Sussexes are certainly avoiding accountability for the birth circumstances of their children at the moment. The energy I am getting here is of corruption, dishonesty, and unfairness. Someone is lying to cover up the truth and/or people have been corrupted/bribed to cover up the truth, It could even be an unwillingness to expose the Sussexes to the consequences of their actions. There is something murky/'off' going on and it is part of the reason why the truth is not being revealed to us in the weeks ahead.

Card Three (Months): The Three of Wands

Months are usually represented by Cups, but here we have a Wands card instead. The Three of Wands is usually about an initial triumph, the first part of a plan being successful, your ships coming in, expansion, growth, looking to the future, confidence etc. That is a much more hopeful message than the past two cards.

Beyond this, this is my card for a change in power in the BRF - the crown being passed to someone else, either by death or via a regency. That energy is strong in this card - a change in leadership.

This tells me that there will not be any news about the Sussex children until there is a change of leadership or a change of power in the BRF, either publicly or behind the scenes. The person who picks up the reigns of power will be looking to and planning for the future, and that person is more likely to release the truth about the Sussex children. That person is also most likely to be the heir, Prince William.

Card Four (Years): The Three of Pentacles

Pentacles are the suit that represents years, so this is confirmation that the message in this card is for the years ahead.

The Three of Pentacles is a card of teamwork - of people working together to create something or to expose something. It is a card of collaboration, pooling resources, and a team effort. It is also my card for surrogacy - three people (mum, dad and surrogate) coming together to create a child.

So here we have the card for a surrogate pregnancy, standing upright, not in the shadows or hidden but exposed to the world. This tells me that the truth about any surrogacy that the Sussexes used will be exposed to the public/see the light of day. This is likely to happen by a year from today, as this card for years shows the truth as being out there, exposed. It could be three years if we look at the numbering of the card, so say between 1 to 3 years from now. There is a team of people who are working together or who have worked together to collect the necessary information and they are ready to show the world what they have achieved. They are just waiting for the project manager to give them the go ahead to show their work.

Underlying Energy: The Hierophant in reverse

This is the card for institutions, usually the BRF. In the reverse, it means that an institution is blocking the release of the information about the Sussex children to the public. This could be the BRF itself, under King Charles, or it could be the hospital/s involved with the birth/s, or it could be another institution. I'm leaning towards the BRF, simply because this card usually means the BRF to me, but the hospitals blocking the release of patient information is another strong contender.

Conclusion:

As of right now, if the energy flows at the moment continue on in their way, we will see the truth about the Sussex children come to light in the next years. The truth is known to people and the media (Wands suit) and the media or other involved people are ready to release the truth, but they are being held back by some sort of legal issues (could be ethical issues as well). The truth is also being blocked from coming to light by one or more institutions, most likely the BRF but it could also be hospitals and health law. There will be a transfer of power within the BRF (or within that blocking institution) that should happen within a year from now (months), and after that transfer of power we will see the truth about the Sussex children being released to the general public. I think we will know within a year from now, but it could be as long as three years.

[ruthlesscore]

hello !

i’ve been enjoying your writing for sf6 lately, and i was wondering if you’d be able to write anything for ed?

i don’t have any specific scenario, but can it be with an x reader insert? haha i’m just craving any sort of ed content tbh

thanks !

Ed x Hacker!Reader - Meeting Ed

- This is my first request for SF6! I was already planning on making a Ed related post so this is like killing two birds with one stone! I hope you enjoy! <3 -

You weren't a Street Fighter. You had more brains than those ruffians that go around beating up anything that moves. As an intellectual, you're enrolled in college to peruse your dream in technology. You had friends here and there, like Li-Fen, who lived in Chinatown, and some people who worked in SiRN.

You were from a working class household, only 23, constantly having to pay off your tuition. You didn't have money to afford food sometimes. You started picking up part-time jobs, some were odd, others were impractical. They never lasted long. You frequently got fired for being late or sleeping on the job. Your excuse?

"School's got me brunt out. I'm sorry, it won't happen again!"

and it didn't happen again because now youre jobless. Sitting at home, rotting away in front of your computer, you decided you needed a new job and fast. Something more practical that didn't require you to leave the comfort of your dorm.

You serached for a week or so before coming across this group called Neo Shadoloo. You've heard about Shadoloo from your many conversations with Li-Fen. The experiments they conducted on innocent children disgust you. You were glad they were gone. But if Shadoloo was gone, who the was Neo Shadoloo?

Adding the phone number to your contacts, you messaged the individual names Ed.

I saw the flyer for Neo Shadaloo. You guys hiring?

You got a response almost immediately.

Hell yeah we are. You gotta have some sort of experience in tech. You a hacker? You legit?

Yeah. What do you need done?

Just getting information from certain databases. Anything about Shadaloo, M. Bison, the experiments, or where the remnants might be. I'll send the pay to you later.

And that's the day you started cyber attacks for this strange organization. At first, you felt guilty about this. Then you were uncertain about the job because what you were doing was illegal. But then you looked at the pay and god DAMN. Who cares about morals when this shady organization is sending you 700 zenny per task.

After your first couple of jobs, Ed started to message you about things outside of work, like the history of Shadaloo, sightseeing in Metro, your studies at university, and personal philosophies. Sometimes, when you're up at night, you'd receive a text from him. You don't know if it was because he was under the influence, or that men usually act this way past 10, but he would send messages that were so strange. You couldn't tell if he was flirting or he was telling a bad joke.

You single? Of course you are. Nobody born in the shitty ass city will treat you right.

Ed, what the hell are you talking about?

You like Bratwurst? Ever had one? I could give you one.

Please go to sleep, Ed.

Only if you're sleeping with me.

Promise you'll make me breakfast in the morning?

Yeah, you're delirious. Gtb, ____.

You didn't know him personally, so the meaning is still up for grabs. The morning after these messages, Ed wouldn't even bring it up, if anything, he was avoiding it. Maybe he was under the influence.

After working for Neo Shadaloo for about 3 months, constantly messaging Ed and feeding into his nightly banter, you received a message from Ed.

Hey. I need you to come pick something up from me. It's a hard drive we need decoded. I'll be at the station at Beat Square tonight. Pull through.

You didn't even answer the message. You put your shoes on and headed out the door that night. Of course you were carrying your handy-dandy knife, as you were no fan of fighting. Hopefully no one tries to mug you or something. Heading down into the station and getting onto the train, you ran into a problem. What the hell does Ed even look like? You've never seen a photo of him and he's never seen you. How are you going to meet with someone you don't even know? Then there was a second problem, one running right towards you, a man and Shadaloo fighters.

The man held onto the overhead railing as the train shook. You lost your footing and fell onto the window. Groaning in a tinge of pain, you sit down. The man paid no attention to you. He looked at the Shadaloo fighters.

"Bring it on."

The Shadaloo fighters tried striking him. He dodged with boxer like reflexes. You silently watched the fight go down, completely dumbfounded by how brutal street fights were. God, it was disgusting. You get it, Shadaloo was a bad organization enabling bad behavior, but doing something as petty as strert fighting? Surely, there was a more mature, more intelligent way of handling affairs, right? With god like reflexes, the boxer hit all 3 of the Shadaloo fighters, knocking them to the ground. He managed to maintain his footing, even though the train was moving so unsteadily.

All of a sudden a big fighter came out, pushing the smaller ones out of the way. You pull your knees up to your chest, hoping you'd appear so small that neither the blond boxer or the Shadaloo fighter wouldn't see you. The big one tries to grab the boxer when the train car shook. The boxer's fist was suddenly engulfed in purple flames. Punching the Shadaloo fighter to the other side of the car and using some sort of supernatural ability to pull the fighter back to him, he punched the fighter's face into the ground. There's no denying it. That was Ed and he was using Psycho Power. He didn't even look your way. Once the train stopped, he quickly got off.

Once you got off the train, you quickly looked around for him. You see him and hurriedly walked over to him. With your hood up and mask on, you stopped a few feet away from Ed and showed him your messages with him. He glanced at the message before taking the hard drive out.

"So you're ____, huh. Finally got to put a name to a face."

He looks you up and down.

"Still down for that Bratwurst?"

[writer-in-theory]

Happy Birthday, Eddie Munson — steddie.

Summary: Steve meant to slip the birthday card into Tina's locker, but the smile on Eddie Munson's face made it all worth it—even if he forgot to sign the card. Prompt: C1 - Secret Admirer Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Rating: Teen Word Count: 5.4k Content Warnings: Language, Minor Self-deprecation, Hospitals Read On AO3: Here A/N: This is another fill for @harringroveson-bingo !!

When Eddie was fifteen, he had a secret admirer.

It was simple and unexpected, just a birthday card slipped into his locker the week of his birthday. It was one of those corny ones from the general store, with a little bumblebee on the front with text that read ‘Hap-Bee Birthday’. The inside had a handwritten note tucked in the corner, the words shaky and curved like the writer had been in a rush.

Happy birthday, gorgeous. I hope you have a day as sweet as you are, you deserve it.

There was no name, no hint as to who would have bothered wishing Eddie “The Freak” Munson a happy birthday when no one had seemed to care before. He’d tried to look at every face in his graduating class that day, searching for a smile or nod, even a pen streak in the same bright blue that had been used on the card. Yet, no one had given him anything. In fact, besides Uncle Wayne, the only person who’d even acknowledged his birthday at all was that secret admirer with their silly little card that Eddie would treasure. All Eddie could do was tuck the card into his locker for safekeeping, leaving it there front and center for two weeks before he finally took it home to stash in his room. 

The next year, when Eddie had grown older and a little meaner, hardened by the crueler words his classmates had learned through high school, he hadn’t been expecting anything. And yet, despite his worries, when he opened his locker on November 5th another card was waiting for him. It was the same dorky kind of card, this time with a pair of otters holding hands and a caption that read ‘Happy birthday to my otter half’. 

Immediately he was grinning, looking down either side of the hallway in an attempt to find whoever had left the card behind. When no one stood out obviously, he turned his attention back to the card, hands shaking as he opened the card in search of another handwritten note from his admirer. Sure enough, in the same blue ink was another note. Eddie couldn’t help but think that his admirer was working on their handwriting since this one seemed more intentional with far fewer shaky lines and near-illegible letters. 

Happy birthday, gorgeous. If today is half as wonderful as you are, then it’ll be a damn good one.

Still no signature. There still wasn’t anything else to go off of, except for the fact that they were clearly still in school too. With only one note per year though, Eddie knew it would be near impossible to find out who was sending him birthday cards. So he’d hold onto the ones he had, keeping them close for the reminder that there was someone in the school who understood him. There was someone—though they were obviously too scared to admit it—that saw Eddie as lovable. 

He wanted to know all about them. He kept the cards in a box in his room, occasionally pulling them both out to re-read. Maybe he could find some clue hidden within the words, something that would give him a hint as to what his admirer was like. Eddie didn’t even need to know their name yet, but longed to know anything that might explain why they’d chosen him. What kind of music did they listen to, and what did they want to do after school? Were they in the marching band? Did he already talk to them?

The cards continued. Senior year, he had another, resting on top of the books stacked in his locker as usual. 

Happy birthday, gorgeous. If being like you means being a freak, then I want in. Don’t let Hawkins High get you down, you’ll show them someday.

Then, more curiously, his first repeat year came with another birthday card on the 5th of November. Considering he’d been the only one who’d been held back (and only because the teachers were refusing to help the “poor damaged Munson boy”), that meant his admirer had to be in the year below his.

It also meant that when May rolled around and Eddie didn’t graduate again, he inevitably had to say goodbye to his admirer forever. He still held onto the slim hope that somehow, his admirer would find a way to sneak a birthday card to him. It never came though, not even when Eddie had spent the night before wishing on every plane in the sky he’d call a shooting star, wishing for just one more chance to find this person.

By the time March rolled around, Eddie had forgotten entirely about his admirer. Between cheerleaders dying in his trailer, and pretty ex-jocks storming into his hideout yelling about magical wizards and a girl who can move things with her mind, an anonymous birthday wish seemed like the last of Eddie’s worries. 

But when he lay on the ground of the Upside Down being torn into by demon bats from Hell, all Eddie could think about was that he hoped his secret admirer would find happiness. They deserved it, for ever thinking that Eddie Munson could be more than what Hawkins made him out to be.

When Eddie was thirteen and Uncle Wayne’s old dog died, Wayne had told him that death was sometimes the peaceful thing. It could be a good thing, it allowed those who had lived all the life they needed to rest. That seemed like a load of bullshit when Eddie woke up after dying, because nearly every square inch of his body felt like it was on fire. It also felt much colder than what he assumed it would be, given where everyone in Hawkins told him he was going after. 

Death also looked like a hospital, for some fucking reason.

“Eddie?” Turning his head, Eddie was met with the sight of his Uncle Wayne slumped over in a stiff hospital chair, looking like he hadn’t slept in days. It looked like he was seconds from melding right into the chair, exhaustion carried in every joint. 

Eddie had half expected to see the kids if he ever survived any of this, all of them gathered around him in the hospital. He’d at least assumed Henderson would be there, with Steve Harrington in tow like the ex-jock never had anything better to do than drive Dustin where he needed to be. Harrington, who was every bit as sweet, charming, and funny as Henderson had claimed he’d become, who’d made Eddie shamefully wish for even one more day of the Upside Down shit if only it meant spending more time with him. Eddie might’ve even hoped for Buckley and Wheeler, who’d begun to worm their way into his heart too, the bastards. 

He supposed it only made sense that it was just him and Wayne again, together against the world as it had always been. 

“Hey, Wayne,” Eddie tried to laugh through the scratchiness in his throat, sending himself into a coughing fit severe enough to have him sitting up and clutching his chest for relief from the burn. Wayne simply sat with him through it, reaching out to rub his back until the coughing subsided. “Sorry,” Eddie winced once it was over, not oblivious to the worry in Wayne’s eyes.

“Don’t you pull that shit ever again, you hear me?” Wayne stared at him seriously, not even trying to hide the tears making his eyes glassy. 

Suddenly Eddie felt twelve again, sitting in a hospital bed exactly like this one while his Uncle Wayne told him that he was moving to Hawkins, Indiana. He’d felt small in the massive bed then too, squirming against the itchy sheets and tight bandages, wondering when he’d be able to smell fresh air that didn’t make his throat itch again. Wayne had held his hand then too, finally answering the questions with blunt honesty that no other adult ever gave him. He’d been the first to tell Eddie that the way his dear old dad had taken him on jobs, how he’d tried a getaway chase with little Eddie in the front seat could have ended with a greater tragedy than being bored in a hospital for three days.

He wondered how much anyone had told Wayne about what happened. This wasn’t the face of someone whose entire world had been turned around with admissions of monsters and hellscapes, but then again Wayne Munson was one of the strongest people Eddie had ever met in his entire life. Nothing would ever surprise him about Wayne, not even if he’d admitted he’d known about the Upside Down all this time.

“Sorry, Wayne,” was the only thing Eddie could even think to say. His head rolled to the side, squishing half of it on the pillow so he could properly face his uncle. “I’m sorry.”

“You should be,” Wayne forced out, though his entire body language relaxed after scrubbing his face harshly with his hands. His next sentence was spoken much softer like he was finally coming to terms with what had happened. “Putting yourself in harm's way, risking yourself for those kids...I’m proud of you, son.”

It wasn’t the first time Wayne had told him that. No, it was like he’d heard it somewhere in some self-help book on how to raise traumatized nephews because the man seemed to tell him it every day. Washed the dishes while Wayne was working? Proud father moment. Failed high school a second time but hey, his grade point average had actually gone up from the last attempt? He might as well have earned his degree that day with the way Wayne had whooped and hollered and shone in pride. 

It was far too much to hear now though, remembering far too plainly what it had felt like to be eaten alive, to know that those moments could have been his last. He didn’t want to spend any time considering what it would have been like if the group hadn’t gotten him out quickly enough, or consider what Wayne would have been telling the group instead if he’d died a hero. Would he still be proud of him?

“No more hero moves, cross my heart,” Eddie answered, trying to give that same cheeky smile that used to make his uncle howl with laughter. “Everyone’s okay?”

“They were worried somethin’ terrible about you,” Wayne told him, gesturing to the other side of the hospital room. 

Eddie wanted to cry when he turned his head. It was all cheesy stuff—little stuffed bears and balloons, and even a crayon drawing signed by Holly Wheeler. They all cared enough to leave him something, to wish that he’d get better even if they couldn’t be in the room when he’d woken up. There was one, though, that stood out to him even from the collection of items gathering on the counters on that side. 

“Is that a birthday card?” he asked, turning to face Wayne again. “Who left a birthday card?”

Had his secret admirer really heard about what had happened already? Had they come by, leaving behind the card that had been missing the last November?

“So many of those kids’ve been in here, I have no idea who left what,” Wayne admitted, though did stand to hand Eddie the card. It was the same silly kind he might have found at Melvald’s, this time with a little strawberry and a caption telling Eddie to have a berry happy birthday. It was the note written inside of the card, though, that had Eddie blushing furiously.

Get well soon, gorgeous. I know it’s not your birthday yet, but I couldn’t stand the thought of not being able to wish you a happy one ever again. Stick around for quite a few more, for me.

Eddie kept the card close to him, right there next to the pillow on the bed. Even when the nurses came in to check on him, and Wayne had left to get ready for work, the card had stayed there to help him through every bit of his hospital stay. It was a lifeboat in the vastness that was his hospital stay, contingent on how well nightmare-inducing monster wounds healed over the next few days. Even when everyone else had to go back to their own responsibilities, his secret admirer remained there for him. 

In the morning, he had a new visitor. 

“Eddie!” the familiar voice screeched as the boy sprinted into the room, quickly followed by a pair of white Nikes and another voice calling after the first, “Hey, no! He could be sleeping, don’t yell.”

 Nothing could ever prepare him for the speed at which Henderson rushed to his bedside, immediately wrapping his arms around him in a tight hug. “You’re awake! You can’t scare us like that, Eddie, it’s not cool,” Dustin said after pulling from the hug. 

“Hey, couldn’t let Harrington be the only hero,” Eddie teased, sending a pointed look to the man standing in the doorway of the hospital room. “You can come in, I don’t bite. Or maybe I do now, d’you think this is how vampires are created?”

“You’re not a vampire,” Dustin scolded, though he was laughing too.

“You’re feeling better, Munson?” Steve asked when he finally moved away from the doorframe, eyes tracking the hospital bed like something might attack him if he dared turn away.

“I’m feeling about twenty pounds lighter,” Eddie teased, “I’d highly recommend the demobat diet.”

There was something so odd about making Steve Harrington laugh. The sound snorted out of him at first, like a burst of water from behind a dam as though he hadn’t truly intended to let it out in the first place. Then he’d seem to realize where he was, or rather, whom he was with, and then he’d grow red in the face and the laugh would peter out. Steve would wipe his hand over his mouth like he might be able to stuff the laugh right back in. 

Eddie found himself longing to hear the sound in all its glory. He’ll add that one on the checklist after ‘graduate from Hawkins High’ and ‘clear his name of murder’.

“You’re a hero, Eddie!” Dustin told him as if being able to read his thoughts. “Hopper and Owens’ team of freaky government people—no, I know, trust me—spent all weekend working on a story. No one thinks you’re a suspect.”

“Just like that? Some government suits wave their hands and I’m just fine?” Eddie questioned, instinctively looking to Steve for some kind of confirmation of what Dustin had said.

“Yeah. Some people in town aren’t taking it too well, but mostly...you’re free,” Steve confirmed, smiling brightly. 

Apparently, they’d told the town it was an earthquake and not the death of an interdimensional monster that had been created in Hawkin’s very own freaky ass lab. Wayne had been told a little of what happened after he’d questioned the whole cover story, but mostly they left it for Eddie to explain when he was ready. 

Though there was some damage to the town, it wasn’t enough to completely destroy the town’s functions. School was still continuing, and as much as the Party begged to stay home so they could visit Eddie, their parents said no. Dustin had wanted to come sooner, he’d told Eddie about four times the entire visit, but their lives were all hectic after the final battle.

It made sense, it did. It didn’t help Eddie’s loneliness in the moment, but he’d get through it. He was used to pushing through the tough moments on his own. 

“What’s that?” Dustin asked, not bothering to wait for approval before he was snatching the card from under Eddie’s pillow. “Birthday? I thought it was in November.”

“It is, you nosey little brat,” Eddie laughed, reaching out for the card again. “I’ll have you know, I have a secret admirer.”

“Seriously? Who is it?”

“If I knew that, they wouldn’t be very secret, would they?” Eddie said. “I don’t know. Went to high school with them. I’ll find them eventually, if they want me to.”

Dustin change the topics quickly when the idea of romance and secret love grew to be too boring for him. It was easy to listen to the kid talk, every once in awhile throwing in a comment that would reroute the conversation more often than not. It was nice, relaxing. If Eddie closed his eyes, he could almost imagine the Upside Down had never happened and he was sitting back at Hellfire Club with all of his friends.

Dustin stayed until Steve was reminding him of the curfew his mother had set for him. He’d hugged Eddie tight then hurried out of the room, leaving Steve to awkwardly raise a hand in goodbye with the promise to be back again soon.

Eddie hoped Steve kept his promise.

The birthday cards kept appearing. Eddie tried to stay awake to catch the suspect but time and again, he’d inevitably succumb to the pain medications pumped through the drip line, waking up to a new cheesy card. No one on the staff seemed to want to tell him who it was either, either saying they hadn’t seen anyone drop it off or that there’d been a handful of people his age who came to visit and it could’ve realistically been any one of them.

“I’m starting to think it’s a joke,” Eddie explained, setting the wooden box Wayne had brought over for the cards back on the side table. “Harrington, have you seen anyone else coming in here?”

That was the other odd change. Steve Harrington came to visit him nearly every day, even if it was a quick visit before or after his shift at the Family Video. He told Eddie it was because the others were busy with their families, and weren’t allowed out of the house after disappearing for a day and being accused of being in a cult, but Eddie couldn’t help but think it was because he was a hair lonely, too.

“Me? No, haven’t...haven’t seen whoever it is,” Steve answered, rubbing at the back of his neck and tugging at the hair there. “Do you have any ideas?”

“That’s the thing!” Eddie shouted, feeling the excitement building in him at the chance to talk about this with someone. No one else had seemed to understand the significance of it all, that they were more than just birthday cards but promises of something good and worthwhile being in Hawkins. It was the promise that, somewhere out there, someone had looked past all the rumors and dramatic gestures and had seen him. They’d seen him and wanted to stay.

Apparently, Steve Harrington understood it too. The Harrington-Wheeler breakup scandal had been well-known throughout the school, and it hadn’t been difficult to see the downward progression in the jock’s moods after the infamous scene—so it was easy to figure that Harrington understood deeply what it meant to not be wanted. 

“He doesn’t leave many clues. I know he graduated in ‘85 but that’s all I can figure out.” With little to do in the hospital, it had been the perfect time-consuming activity for Eddie to pour over each and every card, searching for anything that would tell him more about this person.

“How do you know it’s a ‘he’?” Steve asked, hands fidgeting with themselves in his lap. He’d said it out loud, hadn’t he? Eddie hadn’t meant to reveal his second theory, especially not to the King of Hawkins himself who might’ve once beaten him up for such a confession.

“The handwriting, mostly,” Eddie conceded. “Don’t worry, big boy, just ‘cause I like guys doesn’t mean I’ll come onto you too.”

“No! No, I know that Eddie, I do,” Steve rushed to correct, even lifting off the chair a little in his seriousness. “I—Shit, I’m...I like guys too. And girls. I just like people, I guess.”

There weren’t many things that could leave Eddie speechless. The time he saw Judas Priest in concert, the first time a guy had ever kissed him when they were high in his van, and now Steve Harrington telling him that he was bisexual. All Eddie could do was stare, even when Steve began to blush and curl his shoulders inward under the look. 

“It’s not that big a deal, man,” Steve tried to brush it off, rubbing at the back of his neck again as if to broadcast his nervousness.

“Jesus H. Christ, this is a huge deal, Steve!” Eddie shouted excitedly, moving as well as he could to sit cross-legged on the bed, facing the chair Steve was bent over in. “This is the hugest fucking deal. You, Steve “The Hair” Harrington, like to suck dick with the rest of us. You know what this means?”

“What does this mean?” Steve asked, with the sort of fond exasperated look that made Eddie want to take a picture and keep it close, forever. 

“It means you’re a certified, genuine freak!” Eddie cheered, hardly minding the strain in some of his healing wounds when he raised his arms in the air to cheer. “Welcome to the team, Stevie, how’s it feel?”

“Honestly?” Steve asked, tugging his hand through the front swoop of his hair. It was almost irritating how often he could stick his hands in the mop and still have it look devastatingly perfect. “It feels pretty good, man. If I’d known this is what it was like? I would’ve been a freak a long time ago.”

Then the man seemed to realize what they were talking about. He shook his head a little, head dipping like it was too much to make eye contact with Eddie at that moment. “Anyway, your secret note guy. You’re really serious about finding him?”

“He’s remembered to wish me a happy birthday every year for four years, Steve,” Eddie answered nearly immediately. “He remembers me, every year, and always takes time out of his day to let me know that. Of course, I want to find him.”

“But what if...what if he’s not what you’re expecting? What if you get disappointed?”

It was a possibility, Eddie supposed. It could end up being all a joke, or just someone who wanted to pay kindness to someone who needed it without really wanting any kind of relationship in the end. It could all still be a dream, too, and he’d wake up back in Hawkins High without having anyone in his corner. 

“As long as they’re real, I can’t be disappointed,” Eddie admitted, hoping it didn’t sound as cheesy or desperate as he felt.

They didn’t talk about his secret admirer again. Instead, they talked about plans after school and how all the kids were doing now that they knew with absolute certainty that this Upside Down shit was done for good. Steve stayed until sunset and one of the nurses came in to remind him that he still had to follow visiting hour rules too.

A week after the Upside Down, something went wrong.

They were calling it some kind of infection, and it had spread too quickly to stop it early. By the time they had any idea what was going on, Eddie was sweaty and gross, too out of it to understand anything. In brief flashes of consciousness, he thought he heard the staff telling Wayne that this was scary serious, that there was a chance he wouldn’t pull through after all.

It felt a little like he was on another planet, in those days when his body was fighting off some strange bacteria. There was no pain, no town of people to worry about when he recovered, just simple blissful nothingness.

And then he recovered. 

It was like a rope was connected to his belly button, yanking him harshly back into his body with a pained groan. They were clearly still pumping him full of pain medication, but the overwhelming soreness that came from days spent in a stiff hospital bed still hadn’t eased.

“Eddie? Are you awake?” a voice sniffed out to his left, followed by the sound of a chair scraping against the floor and hurried footsteps over to his side of the bed. “Eddie?”

The room was too bright, as always. He wished hospitals had a dimmer switch or at least some way to turn off the fucking lights that were clearly trying to blind every patient in the whole damn building. Eddie winced, blinking through the blurriness that came from having his eyes closed for however many days he’d been out. Still, he wasn’t wholly convinced that he wasn’t still out, considering the sight before him now.

Steve Harrington was on his knees by the bed, holding onto one of Eddie’s hands between both of his own like it was a lifeline. Those big brown doe eyes were glassy and full of tears, letting some of them slip down in glossy tracks down his cheeks. The sight reminded Eddie of those Greek paintings he’d seen on a field trip to a museum in middle school, where the tragic hero looked absolutely gorgeous in their complete and utter sorrow. He hadn’t understood at the time why anyone would want to capture people in their grief forever, but looking at Steve’s fragile expression now, he almost understood.

“God, Eddie, I thought you were gonna d—” Steve winced, cutting himself off before he could say the word they both were thinking.

“Hey, can’t get rid of me that easy,” Eddie chuckled, voice a little deeper and rougher from disuse. “Please don’t cry, Steve, I’m not worth all those tears.”

“Stop, please,” Steve suddenly begged, eyebrows drawing together in near frustration even as a new wave of tears fell over his lower eyelids. “I wish you’d stop talking about yourself like that.”

“It’s okay,” Eddie told him, shrugging his shoulders as best he could in bed. “It’s really okay.”

“It’s not okay, Eddie, it’s not!” Steve pressed, using his free hand to scrub harshly at the tears on his face before reaching behind him on the chair for something. “It’s not okay. You keep letting everyone around you act like you’re not the kindest, funniest, most badass person in all of Hawkins. Like, for some reason you don’t think you’re worth the effort either and that...that fucking sucks, man.”

Eddie’s pretty sure he died and went to some version of heaven, because after the kind of speech he thought only existed in the cheesy romance films Wayne liked to watch when he thought Eddie was asleep, Steve pulled out a birthday card.

A fucking birthday card. 

“I’ve wanted to tell you for so long, but every time I try to talk I just mess it up,” Steve continued, holding out the card with a shaky hand for Eddie to take. “I’m no good with my words but...but I can do this, so...”

The inside of the card was filled to the brim with writing, the words as small as possible while still being legible. Eddie’s hands quivered as he tried to read, having to rest the card on the bed finally to make it even possible for him to focus.

Happy birthday, gorgeous.

I know your birthday is November 5th, but somehow I can only find the courage to tell you how I feel in these cards.

It was an accident, the first time. I meant to put it in Tina’s locker next to yours, and then even worse I forgot to sign it. But maybe it was for the best I had because you never would have thought it was something good if you’d known it was me, back then. I wasn’t going to do it again, but I saw that smile when you read it. I saw it when you opened your locker days later, I saw how your entire face would soften like it was the most prized possession you’d ever had, and I knew then I was hooked.

I looked forward to November every year after that. I wanted to be the one to make you smile, to bring you some sort of happiness. There was so much I wanted that I never thought I could have, but most of all it was you. I wanted to know everything about you, wanted to see what you kept hidden away from everyone else in the school. I wanted to know who Eddie Munson was.

And hell, I did. The Upside Down never did anything good, but maybe just this once I can say something good came out of being involved: I got to know you. 

Then you almost died, Eddie. Twice. You almost died twice and I thought I’d never get the chance to tell you everything. I thought you’d die never knowing that you’re the most radiant person I know, and that every moment I get to spend with you I feel like the luckiest person on Earth. 

I really like you, Eddie, and I knew maybe from the moment I first saw that smile that I would love you too. 

Eddie read over the words once, twice, three times as if to make sure they actually existed and wouldn’t change on him. It didn’t seem real that after all this time, it was Steve who’d been his hope for so long. It was Steve Harrington who’d been able to see right through him from the start and didn’t run from what he saw. It was Steve Harrington who was the first person who made him feel entirely capable of being loved in that way.

“What the fuck,” Eddie hissed out, fingers running gently over the words like that might help him take them in better. “Steve, what the hell.”

The slight crumple in Steve’s expression should’ve clued Eddie into how his statement was perceived, but all he could do was stare with wild eyes at the man who’d just poured his heart out to him. 

“I’m sorry, Eddie. It doesn’t have to mean anything, we can pretend it didn’t happen. But I needed you to know, I just needed you to know,” Steve hurried out, the tears beginning to build being the only thing that snapped Eddie out of his complete shock.

“Like hell, we can pretend,” Eddie returned just as quickly, “I don’t wanna pretend. Stevie, you...it was you.”

“It was me...surprise,” Steve said, voice lilting oddly like it was dripping with every ounce of self-deprecation that existed in the man.

“Steve, I really want to kiss you but I can’t move, help me out?”

It was Eddie’s turn to shock Steve then. He nearly laughed at the way Steve’s eyes widened impossibly further, eyebrows reaching as far up his forehead as they’d go. Even his lips parted at the statement, leaving him looking like he might combust if Eddie said another word. 

Then, all at once, Steve was rushing to his feet and leaning over the bed. Large hands were grabbing at either side of Eddie’s face and Steve’s lips were pressed to his own. He was gentle at first, hesitant to give Eddie time to back away from the move. When no such thing happened, Steve pressed harder, one hand moving further back to tangle in Eddie’s unruly hair. 

It was magical and impossible and absolutely glorious all at once. Eddie never wanted the kiss to stop, wanted to remain in this moment for however long the universe would allow him to.

He’d blame the breathlessness and the shock for what he said after.

“It’s November 7th. My birthday, it’s November 7th.”

Steve was still leaning over him, face so close Eddie had to go slightly cross-eyed to focus on him. The proximity allowed him to see every minute change in Steve’s face as the confusion set in, however. The little wrinkle between his eyebrows, the slight downturn to his lips as he thought about what Eddie had said.

“But...I gave the first one to you on the 5th. You knew I was getting your birthday wrong and it never upset you?”

Eddie shrugged a little. “It was close enough.”

“Well,” Steve started, laughing as he tossed the latest birthday card toward the end of the bed so he wouldn’t crush it as he leaned further onto the bed. “I’ll get it right this year, gorgeous, I promise.”

“You better, I’m looking forward to it,” Eddie teased through the burning feeling that washed over his cheeks. 

Their second kiss was somehow even better than the first, as magical as Eddie’d been dreaming about for years. 

TAGLIST: @alessiamargaux @minispice-1 @shadetea @emily19990 @alexxavicry @raven2008 @whoringrove @strangerleaves @blackpanzy @goodproofingwater @greetings-and-salutations @doralovesit @lesbianpinkhairedjughead @kerlypride @singmeyoursimpsong @im-sam-fucking-winchester @angel_wings_and_tattoos @itch-my-b0nez

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[patolemus]

As I promised the lovely @lucy-andreas here’s a list of my favorite jegulus fics. Be warned, it’s a weird mix all around:

1. One Thousand Wildflower Fields by ThisLiminalSpace

James is a good citizen. He pays his taxes, waves at his neighbours, remembers his mother’s birthday, works on things and stuff on the Internet like any other human in this day and age, and certainly has never been involved in anything illegal.

Well.

There is a first time for everything.

Notes: no-magic, abo au where omegas weren’t allowed out of the house until recently. Regulus deals with his new found freedom by fighting in illegal rings. James deals… not. Completed.

2. Of Pinstripes And Potions by pansysnarkinson

When James wakes up, his head is pounding. He can’t remember drinking anything, but supposes he must have because it feels like he’s been hit square between the eyes with a bludger. He’s never been one to get hungover, but he knows this is what it’s supposed to feel like. Although, come to think of it, he doesn’t remember celebrating their victory on the pitch, isn’t completely sure they had one at all. The last thing he remembers is turning to look to the stands, revelling in the roars of his fellow Gryffindors, certain that they were going to beat Hufflepuff. Then, he turned and… was hit square between the eyes with a bludger.

Now he’s stuck in the hospital wing, and the bed next to his is occupied by none other than Regulus Black.

Notes: not much to say about this one. Very light as far as jegulus in Hogwarts goes. Completed.

3. James Potter's Application to Court Regulus Black by MiriamMT

“Hello and welcome, my name is James Potter and this is my presentation on ‘Why I should be allowed to date Regulus Black’.”

* * *

When James asks for Sirius' blessing for his and Regulus' relationship, Sirius insists on a formal application and a presentation on why he deserves to be with his little brother.

Notes: hilarious and very fluffy. It’s a one shot and there isn’t much going on in the background. Completed.

4. the golden king by maladaptivewriting

When Regulus Black woke up in 1991 after he was supposed to die twelve years prior, he realized two things. One, the locket he had worked so hard to steal had never been destroyed so the Dark Lord was still alive. And two, Harry Potter, James Potter's son, was in danger.

OR

Regulus goes to school with the Golden Trio.

Notes: one of my favorite Regulus-survives-the-cave fics. Also one of my favorite jegulus fics in general. Follows the golden trio + de-aged Regulus as they go to Hogwarts, and how Regulus’ influence changes things. James may or may not be dead, though he is definitely present. It’s complicated. Ongoing, but has steady updates.

5. All you need is love by touchlikethesun

James Potter is so helplessly in love with Regulus Black. And miraculously Regulus loves him back. And in the end, isn't that all that matters?

Notes: morally gray James. It explains most of what happens here. It gets pretty dark at some point, but I personally love me a Death Eather!James Potter when done right. And this one is definitely done right. Hopeful Ending? Ambiguous Ending? Something like that. Surprisingly, the only steady relationship is jegulus. Everything else is a mess, as Marauders tend to be. Completed.

6. my almost lover by alarainai and salmon_says

“If I was dating Regulus, I would have noticed.”

A pause. His friends all stare at him with various levels of disbelief. Suddenly, he feels very stupid.

“Are you sure?” Remus asks.

Regulus and James are a couple. James is the last person to realise this.

Notes: fluffy and funny. Very light, almost no angst considering the canon material we have to work with. James is a very lovable idiot as per usual. Completed.

7. quite like us by alarainai and salmon_says

[18:12] Seriously, wrong number. Don’t send shirtless pictures to strangers.

[18:13] Padfoot, this rejection hurts.

[18:16] What’s a Padfoot?

[18:17] Wait, is this actually not Padfoot?

[18:19] I don’t even know what that is, but no. I’m not a Padfoot.

Notes: modern au with a wrong number situation. Strangers to lovers, very cute all around with a healthy doze of panic and angst (but nothing too terrible). Completed.

8. Only the Brave by Solmussa

Regulus Black is angry. He wants revenge. He wants to watch the world burn for all it's done to him. He also wants to make out with James Potter, but that's a secret he'll take to the grave. Vengeance is more important than... whatever it is that chokes him when he lays eyes on Potter.

James Potter is confused, because Regulus Black is, all of a sudden, hot. And it's unfair because Sirius is going to kill him if he doesn't get his impulse control in line.

OR

A fic about two idiots falling in love (x2 because there's wolfstar, too) during a war, and the sacrifices they'll have to make to survive it.

Notes: one of the best jegulus fics I’ve read in my life. Gut wrenching, soul shattering angst. It’ll make you cry at five in the morning while contemplating your decisions and at four in the afternoon, also contemplating your decisions. The fluff will kill you, as will the hurt/comfort and the happy ending. Everything in this fic is designed to hurt, but you’ll thank the author because it’s all worth it in the end. A monster with more than 600k worth of words so thread with caution if you’re thinking of starting this at night like I did. Other than that, put on your seatbelt because you’re in for a ride. Completed.

9. Mastermind (Love Made Me Crazy) by MiriamMT

Regulus is consumed by bitterness and pain after his brother Sirius ran away from home, and he blames James Potter for taking him away.

Seeking revenge, he plots to take James away from Sirius. But what starts as a means of vengeance quickly turns into a tumultuous affair, and Regulus finds himself falling in love. Passion and desire turn into feelings and the wish to do and be better for James.

But, as he navigates his complex feelings for James, a dark wizard rises to power, seeking to gain followers among the Hogwarts students. Trapped between duty and love, Regulus is forced to confront his fears, as he tries to protect those he cares about.

Notes: the only reason this didn’t break me the same way Only the Brave did is because it’s half its size. Which is still an impressive 300k worth of words, but you don’t spend wallowing in despair as long. I can promise a happy ending but at what cost? Completed.

10. i regret you all the time by inevitablestars

What happens when James falls for Regulus and his friends lose their trust in him?

Notes: deceptively short summary. I still haven’t finished this one out of sheer fear of how much it’ll break me. I never do MCD or canon compliant fics when it comes to jegulus but the Death Eather!James Potter tag seduced me. I regret it all the time (pun intended) but at the same time I don’t. Can’t say how it ends because I still haven’t gotten the courage to read the last chapter but… thread with caution and keep a pair of tissues near you. Completed.

11. glimpses of heaven by lunahunt

In the aftermath of the prank, James Potter is at an all time low. He can barely look at Sirius, Remus’s dad is keeping him locked up all summer, and Lily Evans hates him even more than usual.

In an effort to get James out of the house, Euphemia signs her son up for a summer Quidditch program with the famous Josef Wronski—seeker for the Grodzisk Goblins and inventor of the Wronski Feint.

The last person James expects to see there is Regulus Black.

[slow ish burn jegulus fic beginning the summer after the marauders fifth year and continuing through the rest of their years at hogwarts] [not canon compliant (aka everyone won’t die)]

Notes: one of the best James characterizations I’ve ever read. The author makes him so inherently flawed and human and it’s wonderful. Post Prank Angst, of course. My only regret reading this is that it’s incomplete, though I still harbor hope that the author will update again.

12. Crimson Rivers by bizarrestars

Regulus Black was fifteen the first time his name was called at a reaping. He's twenty-five when it happens to him again. A lot has changed in that time, and one of them is that he's ready to do whatever it takes to make it home. Nothing or no one will stop him, not even James Potter.

James Potter has no plans to stop Regulus Black from making it home. In fact, his plans revolve around the opposite. He has his reasons, but he's made his choice to get Regulus out of the arena, even knowing it'll be the last thing he ever does.

Sirius Black was sixteen when he volunteered to take his little brother's place in the arena. At twenty-six, without the option to do it again, he has no choice but to be a mentor to his brother and best friend, knowing that only one of them can make it back out.

Two names called, a mentor on the verge of falling apart, and more secrets and grief between all of them than they know how to handle. None of them are prepared for what comes next, or how far they'll go to make it through.

Notes: is it really a jegulus fic rec list if I don’t recommend CR, aka the best jegulus fic of all times? No it’s not, so here it is, the best jegulus fic I’ve read. The Hunger Games au, with aged-up characters. Promises a happy ending but at what cost? Prepare to bawl, scream, look blankly at your wall, laugh and fall in love with this pair of idiots as they fight for their lives. Surprisingly, not everyone dies, and there is a happy ending. There’s pretty graphic depictions of violence though, so thread carefully. It’s a 865k words monster fic (longer than the Bible!) but it really doesn’t feel that long when you’re desperate to see what happens next. I don’t recommend reading this if you’re planning on stopping for long periods of time, though be ready to feel emotionally drained afterwards because this one is the definition of a rollercoaster. You have to have an account to see this work. Completed.

13. just lovers (like we were supposed to be) by bizarrestars

Regulus closes his eyes and shakes his head again, looking pained, then he opens them and sighs. "And your solution to this is me? Pretending to be my boyfriend?"

"Yeah. It's actually bloody brilliant, if you think about it. Everyone will leave happy. I'm going to fake date my way into falling in love," James announces grandly, sticking his hand out and waving it through the air like he's presenting a banner.

***

Or, the one in which James Potter wants to prove he'd be a good boyfriend to Lily Evans and comes up with the brilliant plan to fake date Regulus Black his way into falling in love. It doesn't quite go as anyone expects.

Task failed...successfully?

Notes: no Voldemort au, fake dating trope, angst with a happy ending. As always, Zar delivers complete masterpieces. Also one of my favorite jegulus fics of all times. The angst, thankfully, is not of the life or death variety, which is refreshing in this fandom. You’ll suffer, but you’ll be happy about it. You have to have an account to see this work. Completed.

14. By Your Heart's Calm Strength by pansysnarkinson

Nobody knows who started the fire at Grimmauld Place.

Some people swear it was Sirius, hell-bent on taking revenge on an unloving family.

Others swear it was Regulus, gone mad like other Blacks before him.

The only thing James Potter knows is that the mystery is occupying far more of his mind than is healthy.

Notes: I read this a long time ago but I remember being bamboozled when I did. James slowly discovers the truth of what happened at Grimmauld Place, and falls in love with Regulus along the way. Fluff and angst, of course. Completed.

15. Carpe Noctem by evareinadeescocia

Golden boy,

Lion boy;

Tell me what it’s like to conquer.

Fearless child,

Broken boy;

Tell me what it’s like to burn.

(...)

In which a very nosy James Potter notices that every weekend, when everyone falls asleep, Regulus Black sneaks into an abandoned fifth-floor classroom, and he can't help but try to find out what the little Black is up to.

Notes: another one of my all time favorites. Enemies to lovers, secret relationship, standard jegulus fic. This one has Seer!Regulus, which is both very important and at the same time not relevant at all. Non canon compliant and a promised happy ending which is the only reason I read it because at the time it looked too similar to Choices and I don’t touch canon compliant fics with a ten feet pole. A 680k word monster, it’s currently on hiatus but I strongly believe the author will come back to finish it. Every time I think about it I consider giving it a reread.

16. Finders Keepers by jeggie_toast

"Bloody hell," he murmured. "I really fancy you, Reggie."

It sounded like music, coming from James' lips; a piece that Regulus would like to listen to for the rest of his life.

"...I fancy you, too."

A slow-burn, canon-compliant fic documenting the relationship between James Potter and Regulus Black - from the first time they officially meet, throughout the development of their friendship and eventual romance, right to the moment it all ends. Lots of fluff, no smut :)

*FOR THOSE WHOSE HEARTS CAN'T TAKE CANON-COMPLIANCY* - Stop reading at Chapter 99, then go read my Happy Ending Au: He Is!

Notes: to be completely honest, I did not read the last chapters and skipped to the Happy Ending Au so I have no idea how it ends in canon compliant. I can take a guess though. As usual with jegulus fics, you’ll suffer but you’ll be happy about it. The Happy Ending Au is pretty great. Completed.

17. blue and yellow skies by alarainai and salmon_says

#starchaser is trending.

Regulus Black ✓ @littleking

Why is this a thing? I don't even like Potter.

James Potter ✓ @jfprongs

Replying to @littleking

He's lying. We're desperately in love.

Regulus Black ✓ @littleking

Replying to @jfprongs

die :)

Quidditch Rivals turned Quidditch Lovers. That's what the world sees them as, at least.

Too bad Regulus hates James Potter's guts, and James? Well, it doesn't matter what he feels about their definitely fake, definitely emotionless relationship.

Notes: no Voldemort, modern technology meets magic, professional Quidditch au. Enemies to lovers (though are they enemies if they were in love with each other already?), fake dating trope. Fluff with the appropriate angst dosis, amazing happy ending. Completed.

I know there’s many other fics that are considered must reads for the fandom, but they’re either canon compliant or have MCD, so I haven’t read them, nor will I ever read them. I’ll still leave the links in case someone is interested, but I won’t give any descriptions.

1. Choices by MesserMoon (Canon-Compliant).

2. Art Heist, Baby! by otrtbs (Tagged MCD, the only one of these I may read if I ever find the courage).

3. The Heart of a Lion by orphan_account (Canon-Compliant and Tagged MCD).

Other must reads I have not read yet, so I won’t be giving any descriptions. I’ll still leave the links though.

1. Falls by vantelk

2. pink lemonade by moonysbookshelf

3. Best Friend's Brother by bizarrestarts (needs an account to read)

4. when you were mine by sequinhaze (needs an account to read)

5. The Blood In Your Mouth by moonysmirrorball

[aliorsboxostuff]

When I tell you that the Joel miller x trans!reader fic was the best thing I’ve read in a while I mean that. The way you just integrated the character into the already existing storyline without really changing it was absolutely everything. If your up for it I was wondering if you could write a fic about Joel and trans!reader knowing each other in the QZ and what it would look like to have a relationship with him there or before the relationship. Maybe some Tess too? I completely understand if you’re not up for this request but if you are thank you so much. 😊

AGHH this turned out so short but I didn't know what else to put im so sorry anon!! I really love the idea but I think building the whole backstory before Joel and Tess got out of the QZ is a bit hard. As usual, please excuse my writing if there were any mistakes, I do hope you enjoyed it anon! 

Hounds

Tags: Joel Miller x ftm!Reader, Tess, Before leaving QZ, Tess being the badass she is, Tender Joel, bind safely everyone!, Tender Lovin’, Mostly Fluff, a bit of smut, just dirty thoughts tho, Established Relationship, Bisexual Joel, Bisexual Tess

Tess and her hounds. They follow as her shadow. Pick a fight with her, you pick a fight with all three of them. Tess has always been seen with those two, even walking into the same apartment where they all live. But behind closed doors, no one knows that Tess lives alone while Joel stays with his boyfriend. 

3rd POV

Tess was popular amongst the Boston QZ. Not popular, per se, but known for her strengths and determination. For her headstrong and immovable demeanor. Another thing that boosts her status are her hounds. 

Joel Miller was one thing. Stone cold, dead eyes. Picking a fight with him is the same as picking a casket, according to those who have seen his combat with their own eye. His threats are not to be taken lightly, because when that man says he’ll break your jaw, he’d do just that in the next second. People have seen a fair share of his skills with a gun, and it's not to be messed with. Rumour has it that he’s the one burning infected kids, not a shadow of a doubt in throwing a human into the fire pit. 

The other guy, he's another thing. Don't underestimate him as Joel's shadow, because he might as well be standing at the same podium Joel does with his strengths. He smiles and waves, acting as the good guy for the two of them, but behind those sweet eyes are thoughts malicious enough to be kicked out of the QZ, plans that would impress even Tess. He might not be a stud but he’s the one doing the slippery parts. Countless times, Joel always ends up with the upper hand in a situation with his help. Body as agile as a deer, he’s the hands of the operation. If anyone dares to mess with him, you can bet Joel is right behind them with a gun cocked.

Tess and her hounds. Her boys, the ones that help her operation. Not that she’d need it, but it makes clean-up easier. No one dares to keep Tess away from them, unless she says so herself. Only the most ballsy illegal sellers are brave enough to negotiate with her, because most of the time they'll give her the thing she wants just like that, out of fear and respect.

—

How you first met Joel was through Tess herself.

You were notorious for stealing small but valuable things from FEDRA agents. A stash of guns and bullets, cards and drugs inside your home. Most of the things you don't even use, but due to your ability to pickpocket most if not all of the gullible FEDRA agents, you’ve gained an abundance of them. Your most prized possessions were the firearms you managed to steal or negotiate off of agents. Those are located under your bed, in an inconspicuous box, loaded with extra bullets on the side.

Tess had apparently caught a whiff of your gossip around the QZ, of the ‘Invisible Pick-pocketer’ the agents are having a hard time looking for. As much as she hates to admit it, her strong suit is negotiation, and Joel wasn't exactly the sleekest person for a job like stealing small shit. 

So, one Wednesday morning, in one of the food stalls in the QZ, Tess approached you. 

“Sorry I don't work with anyone,” You were focused on the bowl of food in front of you, scarfing it down because you missed your dinner.

“You might wanna look up first,” A voice of a woman you didn't recognize. So you placed the bowl down, putting on your stone-cold mask before looking at the source of the voice and you almost shit yourself. The most feared woman is standing in front of you, arms crossed with a brow arched. You gulp, trying to salvage what that hardened demeanor you could. 

“I’m- Tess, right?” The edge of her lips raises.

“So you’ve heard,” She leans into the small table, her hair covering one side of her face. Your eyes widen, fear shoots up your spine. “And I’ve heard about you too,” 

“Oh- uh- really?” You cough into your hand, avoiding her eyes.

“You’re the pickpocket, right? The ones FEDRA can't seem to find?” Her grin becomes dangerous. “I have a proposition,” 

She crosses her hands on top of the table, entwining her fingers. “You know me, I know you, we both know what we can do,” 

“Yeah,” You arch a brow, curious. 

“How about you join me? We could use a hand like you, literally,” Her eyes fall to where your hands are, old scars from the fire incident still evident on the back of your hands. It took a second for you to consider before you realize—

“Wait, we? You and… Miller?” 

“Yeah, who else?” Tess leans back into their chair, her arms crossed again. 

“You won't mind? I thought you two worked together, ‘cuz y’know…” You tilted your head, hoping she would take the hint, which she does and immediately cackles, covering her mouth to the side. 

“Me and Joel? Fuck no! I don't swing that way,” Then she seems to retract herself. “Well, I do, but he’s not my type,” 

“Oh, okay, cool, I'm cool with that…” Tess rolls her eyes at your answer before she stands, mumbling something about ‘youths’ and saying ‘cool’ under her breath. She turns towards you, inclining her head towards the street. 

“C’mon, you have to meet Joel.”

—

“Maybe should've taken that break earlier,” You groan, lifting up your shirt as you rubbed at your sides.

“Told you should've taken it but ya’ didn't, now-”

“Look what happens, yeah yeah I know,” You huff, Joel's disappointed stare burning at your back. Feeling the relief of finally taking off your sticky shirt, you stood by the bed as you began to peel off the body tape, taking lungfuls after the busy day. The tape at this point has soaked up most of your sweat, disgusting as it is. When it's at its last loops, calloused hands find its place on your waist, then Joel's comforting weight as he settles behind you.

You feel his coarse beard against your nape as he places a kiss there, his warm breath makes you sigh. Careful, shaking hands replace yours and continues unwrapping the body tape until it falls in a heap next to your leg. Joel places one hand on your stomach, the other rubbing circles on your waist.

“Thank you,” You smile, leaning into his touch as Joel murmurs his answer. He runs a calloused hand up to your shoulder, then between them, pushing slightly until you arch under his touch. He presses another kiss just above where his hand is pushing, before he relents and both of his hands fall to your waist.

“Tess is coming for dinner,” He says, voice ghosting at the shell of your ear. You suppress a shiver, gulping instead.

“Then let me get ready,” You smirk, feeling Joel's hand releasing you as you slip away from his grasp. You turn, placing a short kiss on his cheek before patting it twice. He raises his brow, which makes you grin. “Go wash up,”

Dinner went on as usual. For the past months, Tess, Joel, and you have been planning on escaping the QZ in search of Tommy. He hasn't been replying back Joel’s messages and knowing you and Tess won't be leaving Joel to go out by himself, Tess has been going around looking for information and parts.

“I got a trail. Some guy got the battery we need for the truck. I can track him down this week but I need you to cover my shifts in the afternoon,” Tess points her fork at you, which you instantly nod at. “Joel, keep gathering cards. I have a bad feeling we might need to bribe our way out,” 

Joel hums his answer and that's the end of the dinner. While it worked more as a meetup hour for the three of you, the little bits of food are enough to simulate what it would be like if the world wasn't like this.

As you begin to wash the dishes, your mind wanders to a simple, easier life. Tess would come over, maybe bring her partner, to have dinner together. You’d cook something for the group, something you and Joel enjoy. Wine would be involved, sweetening the night, and there wouldn't be talks about truck engines and unresponsive brother. Maybe Tommy would come over too, have dinner with Joel and he can meet his boyfriend. Then once dinner is over, you and Joel can take the leftover wine and bring it to the porch, settling side by side as the night sky flies by. A simpler world, a better world-

“Hey, you okay?” Joel's hand stops you from jolting, a grounding weight on your arm.

“Y-yeah, sorry,” You dry your hands on the dish towel, noticing the slight quiver it holds. You could practically feel Tess’ eyes on your back. You inhale, straightening yourself before you turn. “I got your shifts covered Tess, don't worry,”

“Make sure that trail isn't some bullshit, yeah?”

“Always do,” She nods, gulping down the last of her drink before she stands. 

“I’ll take my leave, good night boys,” She smiles, before you walk her to the door and shut it behind her with a last wave. You place the lock in its place, standing there just for a minute. Joel makes his way behind you, a reassuring hand on the small of your back.

“Let's go to bed,” You find yourself nodding. 

After washing up and clearing the table, you change into a simple shirt and briefs while Joel changes into his sleep clothes. He usually falls into bed with his day clothes on if he’s too tired and cares far less, but by your request, he changes to a shirt and pants when he can. 

As you pull back the thick excuse of a blanket, the bed creaks when Joel lays down and you follow suit, leaving the blanket at your feet knowing how hot the night could get. Joel turns and you instinctively wrap your arms around his middle, the man buries himself deeper into the pillows. 

“What were you thinking about?” Knowing your boyfriend, it’ll take a while for him to fall into slumber. He slowly laces his fingers with yours and you feel the brush of his lips against your knuckles. You tighten your arms.

“You ever wanna…” You blink at the small stars above. “You ever thought of living a different life?”

“Have a ranch somewhere, and we can… We have a normal dinner, and we’ll invite Tess and shit…” You feel your lips quirk before a beat of silence, then another kiss pressed on your knuckles. 

“Yeah, I do,” Joel turns slightly, looking out the same window into the same night sky. “We can raise sheep,”

You let out a chuckle, nuzzling into Joel's short curls when he only huffs, quietly rolling his eyes. The idea of farmer Joel, tending to his little sheep as they run around him. An image of him wearing nothing but a stetson suddenly flashes across your eyes, quickly killing your laugh, making you hide your red cheeks into Joel's nape.

“What?” He gruffly asks, unable to turn because of your arms.

“Nothin’,” You mumble, still hiding behind your boyfriend at which Joel only huffs before settling back to bed. The blush finally ebbs away and is replaced with a smile instead as you take lungfuls of Joel's scent, lulling you to sleep.

“Good night, Joel,” Joel tightens his hold on your hand.

“Good night, darlin’,” 

Requests are opened! Reblogs appreciated <3!

[writing-blocked-me]

Intoxicated hearts

Masterlist

Summary: Accidental confession of love, drunk style with Chuuya Nakahara

CW: Mentions of illegal activity, mafia people, mentions of violence/murder, alcohol and drunkenness

Pairings: Chuuya x Reader, Chuuya x Wine

Author's Note: I think this may be the longest fic yet.  As per the poll (which I had to delete as it wouldn’t let me edit it argh), Chuuya’s next.  I wanted to try my hand at the drunken confession of love trope because I think it’s super cute and what better person to write it with than our favourite wine-loving mafioso? :))))

Not proofread :P

Hope you guys like it.

As long as you’d been in the mafia, you’d always ended a job by going to the bar. You needed something to take the edge off, especially after doing what you did for a living.  You didn’t drink to forget, it wasn’t like that, you just needed something to help you relax a little after the strain of your profession.

The Eden was a popular mafia haunt, close to the main headquarters and relatively free of normal civilians.  Aware of their frequent customers, the bartenders were discreet, never prying.  Plus, the drinks there were very good quality.  Usually, it was fairly quiet, allowing people to sit in their own thoughts, or have calm conversations.  Unless, of course, people were celebrating a particularly big job, or, a certain mafioso had had too much to drink.

It had been a quiet night when you had arrived at The Eden, having just come back from a job in the city of Osaka.  The job in question was attending a negotiation on behalf of the mafia, with a rival organisation.  The organisation had been causing the mafia more than a few inconveniences over the past few weeks, attempting to take some territory and establish themselves.  Keyword: attempting.  The group had so far been unsuccessful, but the Port Mafia’s resources were being wasted so you were sent to deal with it.  Your orders had been to try to negotiate a peace by absorbing the group, but, if that was a failure, to eradicate them. 

It had been a failure.  Not for lack of trying, though.  You really did try to get them to surrender, but to no avail.  So you spent the rest of the weekend getting rid of them.  A tedious task considering you had to find all the small bases the gang had all over the Osaka prefecture.  

So, as soon as you got back, you went straight to the bar.  Exhausted, you had sat down on a stool, hoping for a quiet night.  You ordered a drink.  You drank it all.  You ordered another.  As you raised the glass to your lips, your drinking was disrupted by a fellow mafioso sitting down next to you.

“(YYYYY/NNNNNN) hiiiiii,” the ginger man slurred, as he took a swig of the bottle of very expensive Domaine Leroy Musigny Grand Cru.  He looked drunk out of his mind, completely pissed. You looked to the bartender for help.  He simply shrugged and started attending to the other customers, leaving you to deal with the inebriated executive, Chuuya Nakahara.

The two of you had been friends for a while now and, as such, it was often you who had to deal with his low alcohol tolerance.  Despite being from different factions, you working under Kouyou and Chuuya leading his own faction as an executive, the two of you managed to form an unlikely friendship, bonding over your mutual love of the drink.  You frequently met at the bar and, when you didn’t plan to meet up, you ended up bumping into each other anyway.

And that led you to where you are now. Seated next to Chuuya, who was clearly drunk as a skunk. Drunk Chuuya was never boring, but he was always a handful.  Sometimes he was an angry drunk (particularly when a certain bandaged idiot was mentioned), sometimes he was a sleepy drunk and sometimes, more often than not as of recent, he was a happy, excitable drunk.  He was like that tonight.

“You’re ba-” hic “back! It feels like aaaggggeeessssss since I’ve seen you”  He practically screamed in your face.  The people in The Eden barely even flinched, used to Chuuya’s outbursts and ‘merry’ state.  Even if they had been bothered by the fiery red-head, they would never dare stand against their superior, an incredibly powerful skill-user.  

“Yes, I’m back, but it’s only been 4 days since I’ve seen you Nakahara-san,” you responded curtly, formally, trying to calm him down.

“That is a REALLY long time.” Clearly, it didn’t work.  He didn’t even notice your formal tone or the fact you were not referring to him by his given name.

“I’m here now, though,” you offered, hoping to quiet him this time. 

“Yeah, I guess you are.” Chuuya smiled dreamily, eyes pointed not at you, but through you, his mind clearly elsewhere.  Suddenly, he became quiet.  Leaning in towards you, he rested his head on your shoulder.  “I missed you.”

That shocked you.  Chuuya was rarely vocal about his deeper emotions.  He could be openly angry all day long, but he was rarely so soft, so affectionate.  It threw you off, feelings you had been burying rising to the surface.  You admitted, if only to yourself, that you were quite fond of your drinking buddy.  Over the years, the two of you had become a source of comfort for one another and you could no longer deny the desire you had for him.  

You had learned to push those feelings aside in favour of not losing him as a friend.  Positive he did not like you in return, you were content being his friend, being a source of comfort for him as he was for you.  Besides, he was your superior, although not the one you worked under, which would mean that your relationship would be beyond complicated.

Yet you couldn’t stop your heart from racing at the tenderness in his voice.

“I missed you too Chuuya,” you replied in a similarly hushed tone, blood rushing to your cheeks as they exploded in a burst of crimson.

“Gah! You don’t get iiiitt!” The ginger wailed as he abruptly wrenched his head off of you, throwing it on the table in frustration.

What?

Confused, you took a minute to allow yourself to process his words.  Didn’t get what?  Was there something else you were supposed to be understanding? Or was the reaction just a result of his drunkenness?  It certainly seemed to be the case, considering the highly feared, highly respected executive of the Port Mafia was now throwing a tantrum, banging on the bar and mumbling nonsense.  He had become a toddler.

“Chuuya,” you started, again making an attempt to calm him down, “What’s wrong? What don’t I get?”

“It doesn’t matter anymore...” He slouched more, bringing the now-empty bottle of wine to his lips and blowing into it to make noises.  It seemed his frustrations had turned into a huff.  Chuuya was looking anywhere but at you.

“Chu, you’re clearly upset.  You have to tell me otherwise I won’t be able to help you.”  You brought your hand gently to his shoulder, thumb tenderly caressing it.  At this point, he was worrying you.  Not only had he never been this forthcoming with his emotions, you had never seen him this drunk either.  

“Forget I said anything. Doesn’t matter anyway.  I shouldn’t have said anything,” Chuuya whined, trying to bury his head further into the bar counter, still evading your gaze.  “You don’t care about me at all.”

That was it.  Time to cut him off and take him home and you told him as much. You called a car to take the two of you to his apartment. Although he protested, writhing out of your grasp any chance he could get, in the state he was in, he was too weak to put up any actual fight against you.  You knew he wouldn’t hurt you either, as you dragged him out of The Eden and practically shoved him into the backseat of the car before informing the driver of your desired location.  

The two of you sat in silence for the entirety of the ride.  Chuuya was sat, leaning towards the window, arms crossed, lips pouting, clearly still upset about getting set home.  You, on the other hand, could not take your eyes off of him.  He was clearly really upset, in a way you had not witnessed before, and you were unsure of what you could do to help.

The car came to a stop and, once again, you had to drag Chuuya all the way up to his lavish, extortionately priced apartment.  Once you got to the apartment, however, you faced a different problem.  While back at the bar and all throughout the car journey, Chuuya had been pushing you away, now he was reluctant to let go.

“Stay here.” His grip on you was iron, surprising you as moments before you were able to drag him about so easily.  The plan had been to leave once you had gotten Chuuya safely into his apartment, but now you felt the need to get to the bottom of his odd behaviour.  His erratic and odd actions were causing you to be frustrated now.

“What on earth is going on with you?” You raised your voice, probably a little louder than you should have, considering how drunk he was and how he winced at the volume of your words.  “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what the problem is.  I know you’re upset and I know you’re not used to talking about this sort of thing, but we’ve been friends for a while now, right? You can talk to me about this, that’s what friends are f-”

“We’re not friends!” Your heart clenched at the words, not once did you imagine Chuuya ever being so cruel.  His eyes widened as he registered the shock and sorrow on your face.  “Wait, that’s not what I- I mean that I- I,” he struggled to get the words out, still clearly intoxicated.  “I just meant that I don’t want to be friends anymore.”

“Okay, if that’s what you want.” You meant it.  If that’s what would make him happy, you would learn to live without him.

Chuuya groaned beside you, banging his head against the wall.  “That’s not what I meant! GAH! Why don’t you get it? Why don’t you understannnd?” And he was back to whining like a child.

“Help me understand then.  Make me understand.” Suddenly, his lips were on yours.  It was sloppy and messy and he didn’t really get you exactly on the lips, but it was Chuuya and he was kissing you and your brain was pretty much no longer functioning.  He rested a hand on your waist, pulling you closer to him.  The other, he used to cup your face.  You rested your own hands on his shoulders, still dazed.  The two of you broke apart slowly.

“I don’t want to be friends anymore.”

Oh.

Oh.

It seemed you finally understood.  As you leaned into him closer, foreheads touching, gazing into his eyes, you let your arms wrap around his neck, holding him close.

“I don’t want to be friends either.”

[remylosingteeth]

Hi hi my fellow lost teeth!

I just realized I never did one of these??? Uhm OOPS??? Better late than never I suppose!

Hello, I’m Remy—the best Remy you’ll meet since the rat from ratatouille.

She/her pronouns, but I’m also cool with they/them!

I call everyone I meet affectionate nicknames purely because that’s just how I roll, but if it ever bothers you or you have a specific term of endearment you’d like me to use, feel free to PM me!

I am a minor so please please PLEASE don’t tag me in NSFW stuff. I’m on the older side ( real late teen ) so I may write suggestive content on my AO3, but don’t take that as an ok to include me in nsfw posts—I work on my own terms, got it? Good!

That being said, I’d absolutely be welcome to SFW prompts being thrown my way! My fandoms are below and I’ll write pretty much any ship (other than the illegal/gross stuff—y’all already know what I’m talking about.) so if you have something you want written, go ahead and send me an ask! I’ll usually get up to 1,300–1,900 words per fic.

I am a writer/absolute idiot, so my posts will either be fanfic-related, or memes. I dabble in art, but it’ll most likely be a yestertide between each post of em’ simply because I don’t like my art much.

Current fandoms: YTTD, Gorillaz, TF2, Venom (Movies), Deadpool (Movieverse), Regular Show, Moon Knight (Television show), Life Is Strange (LIS, BTS & LIS 2), Just Roll With It (Blood in the Bayou & Riptide), 6Teen, Arcane, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child ( Not a JKR supporter, respect the art and not the artist. )

( Bolded fandoms mean I’m much more obsessed with it than the others. )

DNI if you are pro-ship, republican, and/or discriminatory in any way shape or form. This blog is a safe space, and if you are here to futz with that, you are not welcome.

...I’m pretty sure that’s it? If not, I’ll add more! Hope to see yah later!

[ananke-xiii]

Sailing from Byzantium or Parents shouldn’t outlive their Children.

    As you set out for Byzantium…

Okay so. I’ve been writing illegibly scribbling about resurrection in SPN for over a month now, so I think it’s finally time to talk about Jack’s (first) resurrection in “Byzantium”. Let’s goooo, I really hope it’ll make sense! As usual, it’s gonna be loooong, without images and with baaaaad paragraphing so just FYI. Here we gooooo.

I’ve described S13 Castiel’s forbidden resurrection (Chuck didn’t want him back, Billie couldn’t care less, no other entities were interested in him being back, like, at all) as a team effort: Dean, Jack, Cas and the Shadow all worked, consciously or not (but mostly not), to get Cas’ ass back on Earth. I’ve also compared it to the myth of Isis and Osiris because, to me, this specific resurrection has some very, veeeery strong romantic undertones to it. Of course, it bears repeating, it’s my interpretation that Cas got back because he was immensely loved and he loved hard in return. The show doesn’t outright say it, but it strongly implies it, and I’ve picked up on that vibe. However, his resurrection was possible in the first place because Jack willed it and he willed it because he missed his father. So another strong theme here is parental love and I loooooooove this stuff. Let me explain.

I’ve elsewhere said that Sam failed Jack the moment he didn’t tell him that he was missing Mary and he wanted her back. If he did, Jack would have latched onto that like I don’t know what, because he understands what it means to miss a mother. A similar thing applies to Dean, although he’s way more emotionally (and brutally) honest with Jack than Sam is. However, what Dean doesn’t outright say is that he blames Jack for Cas’ death (I’ve talked about I many times and I don’t want to repeat myself here, but basically I think that it’s not about Jack per se but about Cas’ choice to leave them and go away with Kelly. In other words, it’s complicated and I can’t always write the same things over and over again, lol, so sorry if I oversimplify sometimes). The moment he does, when he yells in Sam’s face while Jack is eavesdropping, an-already-attuned-to-his-moth-Dean Jack finally understands Dean because Dean’s pain, like Sam’s, is also his.

This is no moral judgement of the characters but an interpretation of the little tragedy that the first episodes of S13 are: three people, closed-off in themselves like monads, who are all grieving and don’t have the tools and/or the strength to really sort through their own emotions. A scene that stuck with me is when Jack is in front of his parents’ fucking pyre and he doesn’t know what to say. It’s a brief scene that tells a lot: Jack’s lost everything the moment he was born and, of course, he doesn’t know what to do with that. Because he’s just born. He’s left with…. The Big Empty. But this is also what Sam and Dean are feeling, in their own ways, so basically if they all knew how to communicate they would have found out that Jack was THE person who could have understood/helped them the most.

But, of course, if that happened, there wouldn’t be any tragedy in the first place so that was the whole point.

Back to Jack’s eavesdropping. I don’t think Jack picks up on the reason why Dean’s out of his mind over Cas’ death because he doesn’t have the same picture that we do. But what’s important is that he understands Dean’s pain because he also feels a similar pain but, of course, in his case he’s missing Castiel as his father. Just like the Quest for Mary isn’t solely due to Jack’s tendency to appease Sam and Dean, the Resurrection of Castiel happens because Jack is attuned to Dean, absolutely yes, but also because he wants it for himself. As in: Oh Dean’s not okay and one of the reasons why is Cas, but wait! I’m also not okay and one of the reasons why is Cas! Because I was supposed to have at least one parent looking out for me and he’s not here for me.

To sum it up: Cas’ resurrection is spurred by romantic love but it’s actualized because of filial love.

I’ve had to say all this because Jack’s resurrection in "Byzantium" follows the same path but in reverse: it’s about parental love but it’s actualized because of… (a-very-twisted-but-here-we-are, let’s-just-say-it-and-be-done-with-it) eroticism. Yes, ‘cause, sure, Chuck has his pervy thing for Dean but the Shadow surpasses even God when it comes to Castiel. Cas is “Of the Shadow”. Because it’s either that or I am the weirdo that instantly associates “I’ll come when you let the sun shine on your face” to la petite mort, the little death. Eros and Thanatos, the usual. I mean, it could be that I’m the weirdo. Let’s see!

If Dean, Jack, Cas and the Shadow were all needed to resurrect Cas, in Jack’s case…

Lily, Jack, Cas… and the Shadow again are needed.

(lol, when I write “and the Shadow” I have that song in my mind, the one that goes “and your friend Steve, tutututuruduuduuuu, Steeeveee, lol)

((also… Dean and Mother Figures… one day I’ll also have to expand on that))

(((also II… I’m super aware that Sam is a VITAL piece in both Cas’ and Jack’s stories and you can find a little bit about it here. I’m soooo sorry to do my little giant dude so dirty by erasing him, but if I add Sam to the picture as well this post becomes a behemoth or something and I can’t have it, I’ll make up to him I sweeeear)))

(((( I know it’s taking so long but we’re going to Byzantium which is pretty far away, be patient))))

All Aboard!

What is Byzantium exactly? Well, “Sailing to Byzantium” and its following “Byzantium” are two poems by W.B. Yeats which constitute the foundation of… “Byzantium” in S14. I’ll be focusing mainly on the first poem because I think it’ll be enough but the two are strongly connected and should be considered together rather than separate.

That is no country for old men. The young In one another’s arms, birds in the trees, —Those dying generations—at their song,

As we can see, one of the main themes in “Sailing to Byzantium” is old age vs “the young” and mortality (of the body) vs immortality (of the soul). These are the same themes of this episode which are translated for the show’s sake into the old theme of the “it’s not natural for parents to bury their children”.

In the bunker, after Jack’s death, Sam, Dean and Cas are lost and don’t know what to do:

[Cas, Dean, and Sam linger in the hallway outside Jack’s room] CAS: Maybe we should… start thinking about next steps. DEAN: Wake and a bonfire, Hunter style. It's what Jack would've wanted. [Sam says nothing, but storms off. Cas tries to stop him, but Dean stops Cas with a hand on his arm] CAS: Sam. [to Dean] Your brother's in pain. DEAN: Just let him be. If he needs his space, we're gonna give it to him.

They need to “bury” Jack and this triggers Sam into running away. Dean and Cas find him defeated in a forest: Sam wanted to gather woods for the pyre and made a whole mess out of it because he’s not okay and he feels like he hasn’t done enough. Like he has failed Jack. To that this is what Cas has to say:

CAS: This doesn't feel right. It's just not how I thought Jack's story would end. SAM: Yeah. None of us did. CAS: The certainty… of death, even for angels, it's always felt natural, but this doesn't. Jack being taken before his time. I mean, taken before me.

This scene establishes that Cas, maybe for the first time, understands relativity… deeply, into his own heart. Death is certain, it’s natural so how come Jack’s death doesn’t feel right, doesn’t feel… natural? Jack’s being taken before his (Jack’s) time is not unnatural by definition, it’s unnatural by Cas’ relative notion of Time: Jack’s time (before HIS time) is defined by Cas’ time (before ME) and Cas, like all parents, simply logically refuses the idea or even the possibility of seeing his child being taken away before him. It’s not a law of nature but it’s a law of humanity: no parents should ever see their children die. If that happens, it means that something went wrong, that it wasn’t right. That is no country for old men and no country for parents outliving their children.

In “Ouroboros” when Cas is confronted with the finality of death again, he’ll try his best to reassure Jack and make him understand how time works differently for “things like them” compared to humans. He’s trying to be brave in front of Jack but he’s not reaching him because he doesn’t believe in his own words. He betrays himself when he says that “when Dean wakes up -- and he will wake up -- we just have to remember to appreciate the time that we all have together now”. Even if he’s telling Jack that he must accept Death, he’s not accepting it himself. WHEN Dean wakes up AND HE WILL wake up. PERIOD. This is thinking coming from the heart rather than the mind. And it’s… truer? More vulnerable? Honest?...Human? Maybe the greatest tragedy of humanity is not that we don’t accept our death but that we can’t even conceive of the death of our loved ones. When Death arrives and takes everything from you but… you. And Cas cannot accept either Dean’s not Jack’s death. He simply can’t.

Together with Sam, Cas contacts Lily Sunders, the same woman that wants to kill him to avenge her daughter’s death. Lily, we’re tactlessly reminded by Dean in case we hadn’t noticed lol, is… old.

SAM: Dean, you remember Lily Sunder. DEAN: L-- You got old. LILY: Did I? An unfortunate side effect of giving up magic, I suppose.

She’s old and almost soulless but she can, perhaps, “pull off a miracle” or… a trade. “Resurrection and a cure” in exchange for getting into Heaven… to see her daughter, May.

Old age and the soul is another theme in “Sailing to Byzantium”:

An aged man is but a paltry thing, A tattered coat upon a stick, unless Soul clap its hands and sing, and louder sing For every tatter in its mortal dress, Nor is there singing school but studying Monuments of its own magnificence;

The body decays but the soul lives and claps its hands and sings! Despite the “mortal dress” the soul can still be magnificent. In the character of an old(er) Lily Sunders the episode conflates all of its themes: parents and children, soul and mortality.

Yep, because there’s a little caveat in this trade and that’s Jack’s soul. Jack’s first resurrection doesn’t come for free, it has a price that he himself has to pay.

Now this is the point where I have issues with the episode and the series as a whole because “Byzantium” poses an interesting moral dilemma: your life or your soul? Sam, Dean and Cas all have their own take on the matter and the episode explores them. But what about Jack? Since, you know, it's his life and his soul.

Well, unfortunately I don’t think he’s given much of a choice and I think it was unfair.

When in Byzantium…

Yeah, okay, but WHAT is Byzantium? Well, Byzantium is, of course, Heaven. Crumbling empire under siege. Christian stronghold, holy city. Yeah, that’s Heaven right now in s14. So this means that people/entities will have to sail to Byzantium, aka Heaven, in this episode. Conversely, since Heaven is a place for the dead and the Angels, some other people will sail from Byzantium and back to life.

Heaven-Byzantium, however, has a little bit of a problem in the form of the Shadow storming its gates to take Jack’s… soul? The ghost of his Grace? His essence as Nephilim? I mean, I don’t know exactly what the Shadow wants because Jack belongs to two realms at the same time so I guess it wants its half. What I know is that it wants him in some capacity. Although, to be fair, for a cosmic entity that wants to sleep forever, going to great lengths to take one “soul” or whatever seems… weird? I don’t know, what I’m trying to covertly say is that, I think, the show has never really explored the Shadow/Empty and I think it was a shame. It wants to sleep forever but it storms Heaven’s gates for Jack, it wants Cas to suffer BUT it wants him to be happy AND it also wants to stay awake to come to Cas when he’s happy… The Shadow is confused, lol. Or, maybe, in love?? (Okay, now I’m joking but you must admit that the Shadow wants a lot of things. *In Lucille Bluth’s voice*: Good for her!).

Jack’s in Kelly’s heaven but they don't share much screen-time together. As a matter of fact, Jack’s not given much choice to begin with. The “life or soul” dilemma is left unexplored because the plot takes precedence: it’s 46,750,000,000 human souls vs Jack’s soul now. I like that, at first, Cas downright says no to Naomi when she tells him that he must help her stop the Shadow by handig over Jack. But then, when he finds Jack, he seems to change his mind a little:

CAS: Sam and Dean and I-- we found a way to bring you home. JACK: So, I'll be alive again? CAS: Yeah. But to do so, we-- we need to use magic that will draw on your soul. JACK: W-What do you mean, my soul? CAS: It'll be just a small piece. And I know it's too much to ask, but it's the only way. KELLY: No. I-I don't know. CAS: It's not just Jack's life that's at stake. It-- The Empty has invaded Heaven because it wants you.

Kelly going "No" and then "I don't know"... I love her so much, Queen of Messes.

Although Cas told Dean that Jack should have a say in the matter, he eventually decides for Jack and asks “too much” of him. Again, I want to say that this is a judgement-free zone, if I had the possibility to resurrect my dead child I would burn cities and commit genocides, ngl. This kind of prevarication, a prevarication out of love, is something that I can see fit in this episode because it relates to its foundational themes. What I don’t like and think takes something away from Jack is the “It’s not just Jack’s life that’s at stake”. Mmmm it doesn’t sit well with me. Fuck Heaven, fuck cosmic balance and fuck the Empty: if the cosmos can't do its work properly it's not my problem. Overriding personal dilemmas with imminent apocalypse-level threat is something that cannot be overused every other episode or it'll get boring. The stakes cannot always be so high, I need to see characters make their own choices and Dabb era takes this away from me! *Clenched fist raised to the sky for emphasis*.

Since Anubis has been literally summoned in this episode (the Egyptian myths, man... I've been saying... I've been saying) I think I can safely say that on his scale Jack’s soul weighed less than all those billions of souls. In other words, the Greater Good prevails. But what about Jack? Leaving aside whether I like it or not, he still doesn’t get a vote because the whole point is that the Shadow wants what it wants and it wants Jack. So Cas has to interfere and cuts a deal with it. And then we totally forget about Jack’s choice. It’s a given now because it’s the billions of souls and, ON TOP OF THAT, his father’s sacrifice. Even before becoming God Jack was asked to take on his shoulders such impossible burdens and… I don’t know, I actually feel very sorry for him.

So “Byzantium Delivered” by our very Castiel and him and Jack are ready to sail away. For one people leaving, one must arrive. Cas wasn’t the only one who made the sacrifice: Lily pays with her life and we know that her sacrifice is selfless because she manages to enter Heaven’s Gate. As Dean puts it, she couldn’t let anyone go through what she did: outlive their children. There’s a part of me that’s sad that she paid the price and died but another one is happy because now I can speak about something that I adore: parents saving their children.

Once out of nature I shall never take My bodily form from any natural thing, But such a form as Grecian goldsmiths make Of hammered gold and gold enamelling To keep a drowsy Emperor awake; Or set upon a golden bough to sing To lords and ladies of Byzantium Of what is past, or passing, or to come.

Here Yeats is saying that once he’ll be “out of nature”, aka dead, he’ll never take another bodily form but he’ll become a work of art made of “hammered gold and gold enameling” that will set upon a “golden bough” to sing the past, the present and the future.

I have to tip my hat to Meredith Glynn here because this was awesome. As I’ve said she has used Yeats' poem to talk about parents going to other dimensions and making sacrifices for their children. This is the meaning of the “Golden Bough”.

The “golden bough” refers to an episode in the Aeneid where Aeneas goes into the underworld to meet the shade of his deceased father Anchises. In order to do so this, he must give a gift to Proserpina, the Queen of the Underworld and the gift is the golden bough itself.

I said this was awesome because Aeneas is the son that goes to another dimension to meet his father but in “Byzantium” it's a father and a mother who go to Heaven for their children!!! Which first of all, I think it’s BEAUTIFUL, second of all we have, AGAIN!, a reversal of myths at play here!!!

When I say that Castiel and Jack are exploding myths from the inside I’m not saying it because I’m crazy but that’s because this is what the show was telling me up until a certain point!

If you scratch and scratch and scratch, “Byzantium” is a retelling of the myth of Demeter and Proserpina, the mother going to the underworld to save her daughter (it's waaaay more than this but bear with me or this post'll never end). I mean, isn’t that awesome??? I fucking love it!

I swear I could go on and on (and I will!It's a threat!) but I think it’s high time we left Byzantium…

Goodbye stranger, it's been nice!

I hope I’ve made clear how Jack’s resurrection involved Lily, Cas and Jack himself (although he didn’t have much choice in the matter and that’s regrettable). I have to talk about the Shadow before I let you go of the insanity that is this post. So let’s end it with more insanity, shall we?

O sages standing in God's holy fire As in the gold mosaic of a wall, Come from the holy fire, perne in a gyre, And be the singing-masters of my soul. Consume my heart away; sick with desire And fastened to a dying animal It knows not what it is; and gather me Into the artifice of eternity.

Now this is where my weirdness potentially shows: here Yeats is talking about his desire to meet the “sages standing in God’s holy fire… and be the singing-masters of [his]soul”. He wants his heart to be consumed and freed from the chains of the material body (“dying animal”) and be gathered “into the artifice of eternity”. Now Yeats, to me, is talking about a sort of transcendental and mystical experiences which, as we all know, have very clear sexual undertones. And, I don’t know, I guess I see these (much darker) undertones in this episodes too? The Shadown is the master of Cas’ “soul”, it owns him, to it “years and eons” (the time of the heart for Cas) are nothing. Now or a billion years from now means nothing to something like the Empty. It wants to take Cas when he’s outside of time, in the moment of “happiness” which is the moment when things “happen” (“the artifice of eternity”), which, in turn, is a moment outside of the deterministic world of SPN.

It’s just like when, in “The Big Empty”, the Shadow tries to seduce Cas and persuade him to go back to sleep because, out there, there's nobody who loves him but here with it? There’ll be peace. Only, this time, the Shadow is pretty pissed and it’s like: I don’t want you now because you don’t want me so I want you to suffer now. Go back, live your life, one year, one thousand, it means NOTHING to me. You’re already mine. No, I want to own you to the point that I’ll come to take you the moment you will be happy, when you’ll be outside of time, I’ll come then and take you away with me. Because you’re mine in time and outside of it. Beyond eternity.

I mean, this is perverse and insane but also very erotic :D And, to be honest, it kinda makes sense because the energy of the “Eros” (not sex, "eros" in the psychoanalytical sense) must be involved in a process so delicate as the resurrection. One needs to want life to go back and make people go back to life, you know? And since we’re talking about resurrecting souls, Psyche if you will, you sort of have to have Eros? The two go together.

So to really sum it up this time: Jack’s first resurrection was another team effort. It required a lot of love as usual and this time it was the parental love for their children that pierced the veil and saved the day. But it also needed a bit of erotic sparkle to ignite it, the final, unseen ingredient of the spell. The Shadow provides this sparkle in a capricious way just like only very ancient cosmic entities can do. However, the price that they’ve all paid is very, very high: Lily’s life, Cas’ happiness and Jack’s soul. It’s a bittersweet victory that announces catastrophe.

Okay, I can’t believe I’ve made it but I’ve made it. If you’ve been with me until the end,  I thank you and hug you <3. I hope you enjoyed it!

[andy4yippee]

Dark riddlebat fanfic the poll was about, thisll be a series that i hope ill finish :) not beta read..

Tastes like silver . (pt. 1)

BRUCE WAYNE X EDWARD NASHTON

CONTENT WARNINGS : illegal substance abuse, mentions of toxic relationships that are brief. Hallucinations and a PTSD mention.

Taglist For DC content (comment if youd like to be added.) : @cutesludge

The clock struck one.

Batman-- Bruce, sat at a circular table. along with superman, aquaman..you get the spiel. meeting.

staring.

staring at nobody, at a wall.

Bruce pushes his tounge between his two front teeth, his thumb tense rather than resting in the webspace between his index and thumb calmy.

Nashton. Edward.

Cocky bastard.

He'd always say things, have the last word. it was bothering. very. Bruce hated it, he hated him. He was quite the stuck up. He knew he would do it just to get on his ass, to annoy him. And,

he considered giving him away to the police.

multiple times. but, that wasnt a option.

Edward had been..meeting up with him. Nothing weird!

And, bruce.. He couldn't sleep. He didn't really have a reason, per say, but, Bruce couldn't fall asleep. physically, could not.

he usually had power naps. he did have power naps. 20, 30 minutes twice a day.

It wouldnt work anymore. he could not go to sleep. he was tired -- miserable.

So, he did the only normal thing.

Pay for drugs.

Yes, Batman. Bruce Wayne. Snorting Xanax. On a good day, just enough weed to knock him out. what a sight!!

And, bought from the Riddler, too.

It worked. Put him right to sleep, or..whatever you call that. he would either do it in his car, or in his bedroom. and god did he sleep! but woke up after,

sick,

sweating,

and,

gross.

Every time, Bruce said--

"This is my last one." as he unwrapped the pill from a tissue, shakingly placed it on his dashboard, crushed it with anything he could find,

snorted it,

and passed out in his car for hours.

But every time, he went back. the addiction- it was horrible, he wished he never got into it. He wished he put Riddler in jail when he found him.

But, they were both stuck. Bruce couldn't tell the police about Edward, Because, they'd find out he was doing drugs.

that would be quite the news headline. Bruce chuckled.

and, Edward couldn't tell the police, nevermind go near one.

But- taking the drug, it was noticeable.

Bruce wasn't as sharp. he wasn't as polite. Clark, one of his closest friends, saw obviously that he wasn't ok.

Alfred saw that he wasn't ok.

Selina saw.

Gordon saw.

Dick saw.

Everybody saw.

And he'd try to fake it, tried to pretend he wasn't drowsy.

pretend that his mouth wasn't always dry, pretend that he didn't have a horrible memory, pretend that he didn't have hammering headaches.

But god, was it hard. Bruce wasn’t sure how much longer he could take of it, honestly. And quite frankly, people were starting to notice so much they asked him about it.

“Bruce.”

“Bruce?”

He snapped out of his trance of staring at a particular, non busy spot on the floor.

“Yeah? Whats up?”

Clark stares back at him, frowning, breathing out before he talks. Hesitating.

“Whats, uh..whats wrong with you, bud?” He asked, hand holding up his head.

Bruce chuckled, looking around and acting surprised.

“You’re asking me that? Uh, whats up with..that girl? Right?” He pointed at a random woman on the street.

“She seems down.” He said, before realizing the pun he accidentally incorporated, laughing harder.

“Quite down..” clark mumbles, staring out the window, before getting back on track.

“Ok, seriously, talk to me.”

Bruce coughs.

“About what? The weather?? Y’know, it is quite nice out today, might have a cookout! So, how are—“

“Bruce.”

A hand grabs his wrist.

“Clark.” He clears his throat.

“We should talk.”

The clock strikes three.

“Bruce, what is wrong!?” Clark says, voice raising in volume.

It was just them in the meeting room, just them in the building. Clarks voice bounced off the walls of the room and leaked behind the doors, into the stairways.

“I dont know.” He mumbles aggressively. Clark had been trying to get him to talk, and ‘i dont know’ was the best, honest response yet.

“Bruce, you- you can talk to me! You haven’t even talked to Alfred about whatever’s going on.”

“You’ve talked to Alfred? About- about me?”

“That doesn’t matter.” Clark scoffs, bouncing off from leaning on the table.

“Bruce, somethings up, and i mean..i care for you, ok? Whats happening? I wont tell anybody.”

Bruce clears his throat.

“I just feel lost, i guess.”

“Why?”

“I feel like I’ve lost my life. Its seriously out of my grasp and control, and i always feel in control, so its stressing.”

“That makes sense, i get it.”

Bruce chuckled. He didnt get it. He usually felt insane pride, like he was better than everyone. But he lost that, he lost his sins.

His sins made him feel human.

Now, he felt more stupid than he ever could, as unimportant as you could be.

“Yeah..uhm, hey, hows the villain fighting? Riddlers still out there, right?”

Bruce paused.

“Yep. I hope we’ll find him soon.” Bruce looks at the window.

“Look at me.”

— what?

Bruce shivered.

“Look at me, bruce.”

Bruce looked at Clark, eyes wide,

“Yes?”

“Youre no good of a liar.”

“What?”

“Youre no good of a liar. Spend your lies on someone else.”

Bruces eyes filled with tears, his mouth quivering.

“Im not lying to you, clark?”

— bruce?

“Hey, look at me.”

“What?”

“Are you ok? Whats going on?” Clark was now closer to him, his hand rubbing bruces arm.

Bruce looked at clark, the shivers disappeared.

“Sorry. Uhm, must be some kinda flashback thing.” Bruce shrug.

“PTSD? You..i mean, yeah. Kinda looked like it. But dont they last longer?”

“I dunno. Uhm, hey..Y’know what? This helped. Im gonna catch the road, before the weather gets shitty.”

“Really? Uh, bruce-“

“Seeya.” Bruce smiles, waving as he walked down the stairway, getting out of the room quickly, leaving clark worried.

As bruce arrived home, The rain pelted down relentlessly on the streets of Gotham.

His shoulders slumped, opening the mansion door.

He dropped his things inside, didn’t bother to look in a mirror, and briefly said hi to alfred before opening the door again,

Going back to that car,

Parking it in a alleyway.

Again, and again.

But even in his sleep, he felt alone, and he felt like no one cared.

That plunge into darkness, it didn’t help him. And, he wasn’t so sure why he kept going back.

[horrornerd]

Roleplay ad

Searching for tpof/btd roleplays

Only requirements are to be over 18 and oc-friendly. Preferably also write 1,000-1,500 words per reply, since that's usually what range I tend to write too, but that's really just a bonus lol.

Im also not really looking for doubles rn.

also currently only looking for f x m.

I can not stress this enough but NO MINORS!!!

Canon-typical stuff aside, im mainly looking for yandere related stuff. I'm a huge psychological thriller girly, so i tend to focus on that when it comes to writing, however i do enjoy mixing a bit of the twisted love aspect in the pot.

I have multiple ideas with different ocs, all of them being the "mc".

Btd:

Strade: In which Strade's wife/long-term girlfriend is oblivious to her husband's/boyfriend's….special hobby. (Inspired by the fact that many recorded real-life serial killers have gotten married and their spouses never suspected a thing.) In this case Strade's s/o only ever saw Strade's "charming" persona, the one he puts on to appear normal. My idea is that she was originally going to be one of his victims, but changed his mind for whatever reason.

(what Strade feels towards her doesn't have to be actual "love". But i do think if the mc's and Strade's relationship has lasted for years, then he would have grown some twisted attachment to her- in his own Strade way at least...Maybe like how in TINR Strade grew possessive over Raven despite not loving her genuinely and simply manipulating her)

Strade (again): MC can't help but find her neighbor a little…..strange. Strade can't help but find her enticing. With her inner connections with the police (possibly is a police officer herself if you wish to take it a step further), is he willing to take the risk and snatch her away? Fuck around and find out ig.

Rire: Where Rire falls in love with a human he can't grab a hold of her soul of.

Tpof:

Derek: Derek develops a crush on a cute foreign barista. She has no idea of the reputation he holds as a Goffard, hence he can feel semi-comfortable talking to her as he picks up his morning coffee from the secluded coffee shop. However, their dynamic changes when he attends an illegal auction in hopes of bringing the next victim to the desert excursion, only to find out she is the product bided on.

(probably the most "romantic" scenario you will get out of these tbh)

Fox: Inspired by a fic I read, aftermath of the "he kept you" ending with Strade where Mc is a fellow prisoner along with Ren. The two grow a trauma bond and fall in love while captives, but she runs off, leaving him once Strade dies. Now, years later, he's determined to get her back again. (The most yandere out of all, considering the dynamic)

Imporant edit: i only roleplay through discord!!!