#and god I really really like your addition man everything is on point!

[muqingslover]

[ I've seen how Caleb is often described to be a sex god without any experience at every first time (and I eat it up) but I also think we should discuss the other side of it. Kinda of an addition to my previous post ]

Let's discuss virgin Caleb that since he hit puberty has been struggling with his own desires and when he finally received the green light from you it's like a dam was unleashed.

This man is BEYOND sensitive. And so damn needy too, to the point that greedy would be a much more suitable word for him.

He started having wet dreams about you after the first kiss and the walk of shame to the bathroom every morning to wash his boxers is very real.

He's got a leaking and painful boner every time you kiss him for a little too long and he can't get enough of the taste of your tongue on his.

Having you on his lap is both bliss and torture. He'd try to hide the fact he's hard the first few times, not wanting to scare or pressure you, but each time your hips pressed down against his boner he'd be rolling his eyes back into his head and forcing down a groan.

I'm a dry-humping truther and I firmly believe the first time he came with you was by rubbing himself against your leg like the dog he is while you two were making out.

Caleb is mortified about his first experience with a blow job and he wishes you'd forget such an embarrassing moment of him.

But in all honesty, it wasn't his fault. You offered out of nowhere, which left him no time to mentally prepare, and just by having you kneeling down in front of him with your hand wrapped around his cock had him gripping the edge of the desk behind him, to the point the wood creaked at the sheer pressure.

And when you licked along the precum that was dripping down his length and pushed your tongue against his swollen tip he came and he came hard. His cum coating your face, getting onto some parts of your hair and in your mouth.

It goes without saying that he spent the rest of the day apologizing, but the sight of you swallowing his cum that had gotten onto your lips made him dizzy and hard again.

I'm sure he'll be fantastic in bed eventually, but your first time is a mess. Literally. Caleb is so eager to explore the body he's desired for so long and to please you as much as you do to him.

Everywhere he can reach is littered with dark and very obvious hickeys.

He'd have your hands pinned next or above your head so you couldn't touch him otherwise he knows he won't last at all.

Though, all his efforts bear no fruit because the second this man bottoms out inside of your warm and tight insides he is cumming again.

His body would tremble as he held his entire weight on his forearms to not crush you and he bit down on his lips.

After switching condoms, you'd have to get on top while his shaky legs recover from his orgasm and oh gods he's really trying his fucking best right now.

He's panting against your neck when you roll your hips and cause a loud moan to escape his lips, followed by his strong arms wrapping around your middle like a bear hug as if to keep himself grounded. It's rather cute, really.

He'd come with you this time, if not a little before from you clenching around his cock and the sweet whimpers because he's oh so very sensitive.

His hands would feel up your thighs then shamelessly grab your ass while he looked up at you, loving the view of you on top of him and he's got the cockiest grin you've ever seen on his face.

Now we're talking about someone with YEARS of suppressed sexual desires so you better brace yourself because he's far from done.

Caleb would use the entire night to learn everything he possibly can about your body, besides what he already knew. Each sweet spot that make you cry so good for him and just how deep he can hit inside of you to have you gasping for more.

He's sloppy, he's desperate, he's pathetic and it's messy. He'd ask between shaky breaths and his tone is almost whiny "Does that good? I need you to talk to me sweetheart, c'mon."

"Tell me what you want and I'll do it. Teach me how to make you feel good."

"Can I go deeper? Fuck- Please? Please? you feel so good-"

"I can't stop— Just one more, I'll make it good for you too, please, gods please, I need more of you or I'll go insane."

Caleb is the type of pathetic loser that would get a nosebleed while he pounded into you for the nth time.

He'd kiss you when you showed concern, spit trickling down your chin as the taste of iron would spread on your tongue before he pulled away to admire the sight of you completely disheveled for him. Because of him.

He licks the few drops on your chest, the crimson smearing with the sweat glistening on your skin and leaving a trail that only added to the perverted satisfaction that you're his.

Almost every position is crossed off the list in a single night and he's willing to do anything you ask of him. You want to ride him again? He's sat. You want him to hit it from the back? He's got you on your hands and knees already. You want him to eat you out? Please, by all means take a seat on his face. You have complete control over everything that happens most of the time.

It's morning by the time you two pass out, or run out of condoms in the box honestly, but you can fully expect him to try something when he gets into the shower with you the next day. Hey, he's just helping you clean up like a good boyfriend should ;) .

[vaguely-concerned]

for what it's worth I personally don't believe spite had anything to do with the pantry near-kiss experience at all. I think that was a 100% lucanis naturel disaster no supernatural additives present or indeed required. at most spite was watching that whole situation go down with mild puzzlement about approximately every part of it, I don't think he'd have much interest in it one way or the other. the explanation seems much more mundane and grounded and in some ways much sadder to me.

if your nervous system has never been in a place where any surge of emotion, even -- in fact sometimes especially! -- a good and exciting one makes you feel like your soul just touched a hot stove it can't get away from, then sincerely, from the bottom of my heart and without a trace of snark, thank goodness and I hope you never experience it. For the rest of you... fistbump of solidarity it's rough out here but *grits teeth* we stay silly etc. In the place lucanis is in during that part of the game, feeling like you're losing control (again even for ostensibly good happy reasons) can feel an awful lot like you're dying, or worse. on top of everything else going on for him -- again going only with non-supernatural elements and not even comprehensive: a year of non-stop horrific trauma added to pile of previous mountain of childhood and attachment trauma. chronic sleep deprivation. apparently dead grandma doubling as mother figure. cousin-brother aggressively fucking around and in real danger of finding out. fucked up the ONE thing he thought he knew how to do that's been the central pillar of his identity. the world might be ending even more than it already was because of it. keeps faceplanting with barely any dignity and having to get up again with alarming regularity GOD how could I ever not save treviso this man desperately needs a W (just one!!) like few people in the history of the world have before him. he's more caffeine than man because the alternative feels worse. it's bad in here. and ON TOP of all that he's in the process of falling just. appallingly soul-shrivingly in love, which can notably be playing on hard mode even when you're in a mostly functional place, that shit routinely rocks people to the core under the best of circumstances.

so I'm not surprised it's too overwhelming for him to handle when he tries to throw himself in head first -- in fact I'd have been more surprised if it weren't lol. he clearly wants it so much, which only makes it so much more painful that he can't actually bear to touch it when it's offered to him freely and eagerly. this is the tantalus-level awfulness of this kind of attachment trauma; food seems to be right there, you can see it, almost smell it sometimes, but no matter what you just can't seem to reach it. seemingly not for any flaw in the existence of the food, but because of something broken in you that can't or can't bear to actually eat. his deliberate flirting routine is kind of deeply dorky tbh lol (in the most endearing way possible let's be perfectly clear) and I don't think it's entirely natural to him -- that's a hastily cobbled together 'oh god I am getting the vibes here it is happening for some reason they like me for my personality quick what would illario do' approach if ever I saw it, supported by the fact that it never really makes a return after this --

BUT I do think his obvious near-unbearable delight with rook's existence and person that shines through in that scene is entirely real and unfeigned. he likes them so much. he wants so bad to be able to be close to them. he's so hungry for the reprieve and release and relief they represent to him, just for one moment, just one break from all the awfulness to have something uncomplicatedly good. and it's here, it's been offered, he's welcome!!! and he has to flinch away at the last minute anyway because he's an exposed nerve of a human being. there's a point at which every sensation including joy becomes indistinguishable from agony. he's pretty much exactly at that point. for the love of god have some mercy on him people. the feeling that salvation is right here but you're too broken a vessel to hold it is one I wouldn't wish on anyone. let him have a few moments to stare into the void before he's ready to get back up and try again surely we all deserve at least that much lol

[rosesrotofficial]

hi, i just wanted to ask why did ronin and angel break up? also, love your game, i think ive replayed it around 5 times now. thanks for answering, if you do <3

i have lots of thoughts about this... i feel like to explain why they broke up u need to know why they got together:

ronin and angel got together partly out of proximity: feeling like they were the only ones that understood each other. they were also the only people in the server at that point which meant for about 2 weeks it was just them flirting.

angel felt safe with ronin bc unlike the men she's been with before, he actually respects her boundaries and genuinely cares about her (the bar is in hell). the fact that ronin's a trans guy helps, too: angel felt a sense of safety in his transness cause like he's dealt with everything that comes with growing up afab; he understands in a way that her past relationships don't, or don't care to understand. and ronin is quite the devilish gentleman. like angel says in game, being with ronin is the first time she truly felt safe with anyone.

as an additional point, i think angel feels guilty about "using" ronin in this sense and fears invalidating his masculinity; "does ronin think that i think he's not 'really a man' which is why i'm with him and feel safe with him?? because i don't think that" but i feel like that's a whole other ask haha. angel has a lot to unpack i'm ngl. anyway ronins answer to that is stop worrying your pretty little head.

ronin felt safe with angel because he was subconsciously projecting ther, his first love (who he still has a lot of unprocessed feelings about) onto angel. angel gives him the push-pull of ther, but without the heartbreak that came with them. angel is "his girl", now, someone he can focus on and care about, someone that he can be with, who acts similar enough to ther that he can almost pretend it's them. (as for a fun fact, angel's VA is ther's VA from gluttony gods!) even though angel's not and will never be.

angel and ronin's relationship was more out of necessity: it helped angel process her feelings about men (to an extent) and helped ronin get closure too. after realising this though, they realised they worked better as friends - because they were mutually using the other to cope and process feelings, even if it was mutually beneficial.

thank you for your ask! <3 i'm glad you enjoyed the game so much :3

[overstimulate-me]

i wake up wearing a paper hospital gown and strapped down to a medical bed with my feet in stirrups. i’m disoriented, so it isn’t until i try to thrash around and get free that i notice there’s an IV in my arm and a catheter between my legs. alerted by my movement, a nurse comes over to check on me.

“i’m glad you’re awake, how are you feeling?” he says.

“i’m fine, what am i doing here?”

“you don’t remember? that’s not good. i’m going to take care of you, then i’ll get the doctor for you. he’ll be able to answer more of your questions.”

the nurse takes the catheter out, and i feel a relief from a pain i hadn’t fully processed. as soon as it’s out, though, he pushes another one in—one that’s a size up.

“hey, what are you doing?” i ask indignantly.

he smiles regretfully at me. “i know it hurts, but i promise it’s for the best.” after finishing with the catheter, he swaps out the bag attached to the IV drip, and i feel myself start to get drowsy again.

the next time i wake up, the nurse is already beside me. “hey, welcome back,” he says with a light smile. i’m groggy and confused, so he keeps going. “it sounds like the doctor is really busy for now, but he’ll come see you when he gets the time.”

he heads between my legs, pushing them just a little further apart than they were before to get better access. he pulls out the catheter, but again replaces it with something larger. “this one is a plug,” he explains, “which we use because it has some additional functionality. but of course, that has its drawbacks, so let me know if you ever need to relieve yourself.”

he leaves the room, and i’m left just to sit there bored and think about the pain between my legs. slowly, the memories from the night before start to come back to me. i was out dancing with my friends, and i remember clocking a man who was staring at me the whole time. it wasn’t until much later, when i’d had a few drinks in me, that he approached me and handed me a cup.

that man, come to think of it, looked a lot like the nurse. and isn't it strange, that no one else has come in to check on me? even if the doctor is busy, hospitals usually have multiple nurses.

as i start to panic, i feel the plug in my urethra start to... oh my god it's expanding. that's the "additional functionality" he was talking about. the beeping from the heart rate monitor speeds up, and i try to get myself out of the bed, but the restraints are secure. the man pretending to be a nurse must hear the commotion, as he enters the room immediately afterwards.

"now now," he says with a sadistic smile, "there's no need for all that."

"what are you going to do with me?" i demand.

"well first, i'm going to give you a sedative." he starts to fitz with the IV bag again. "not enough to knock you out this time, i want you to feel everything that's happening. but i really do need this struggling to stop."

"you're sick," i spit.

his demeanor remains frustratingly calm. "i'm sure you think so. but remember this point, because it's only going to get worse."

i want to curse at him, but i also need to know: "what do you mean? what are you going to do?"

he leans in close and almost whispers his answer. "i'm going to fuck you in a hole you've never been fucked in before." my eyes go wide and i pull back as much as i can within the restraints, which isn't much. he pushes a button and grins as i feel the plug expand again. "i'm going to fuck your pee-hole."

i try to resume my thrashing, but my limbs are heavy—the sedative is starting to kick in. "you're a freak! what's wrong with you?"

"a lot of things. but since the guise is up, i suppose we don't need this anymore," he says, then cuts the hospital gown off me. "and now that i don't have to pretend, i get to play with you as much as i want until the big finale." he flicks the plug and i scream.

when i'm eventually able to form words again, it's a babble of "no no no no please don't!"

"please don't?" he asks with mock surprise. "you want me to hurry up and fuck your urethra now? but baby you're not stretched out enough, i'd rip you open. well, if that's what you want—"

"NO i don't want that!"

"so you want me to keep playing with you then?" he flicks the plug again, and i scream again. "that's not an answer."

"yes, i want you to keep playing with me! please don't fuck me there yet," i sob.

"okay baby, whatever you want."

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Chapter 4- The Chase

Summary: You can only keep running from Frankie Morales for so long. At some point, he'll catch up to you, whether you like it, or not.

Word Count: 3.5K

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader (reader has a name/nickname)

Warnings: Do I spy a hint of... ✨feelings✨??? Yearning, a hint of teenage violence (Santi deserves it, it's okay), the appearance of the Miller Brothers, Frankie basically looking like this 🥺 for the last half of this chapter, banter because I live for it

A/N: I'm convinced that teenage Frankie and the Frontier Boys are the best characters to write for, period 😭 I never thought I would live to see the day where my chapters are less than 5K (?!?) but I'm really trying to be better about posting on a schedule- If you would rather have them be longer and wait two weeks between chapters instead of once a week, let ya girl know 🤷🏼‍♀️ Thank you for all of your kind words about this story, your kind comments literally fuel me and make my heart explode, ily 🥹💛

All The Things We Never Said Masterlist

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Frankie, Fall of 2005, Age 16

For as much as he hates school, there will be two classes Frankie knows he’ll always pass with flying colors- Gym and Math. 

When he and Santi went to pick up their 11th grade class schedules before the start of the school year, you would have thought they’d won the lottery when they looked down on the crinkled half sheets of paper to find they were both in the same 6th period gym class. 

Five weeks into the start of Junior year, Frankie’s now convinced that Santi and his new friends, Will and Benny Miller, are in on some sort of scheme to make him fail the one class he’s guaranteed an “A” in. 

“Jesus Christ, Frankie, for the love of God, will you please slow down?!” 

Santi’s all but huffing at the pace Frankie had set for the four of them to run the two miles they’re supposed to finish by the end of class, only three of the eight laps they need to run around the track completed. 

“We’re not even going that fast, Santi, you’re fine.” 

Frankie can’t help but laugh at the way his friend is laboring behind him. Sure, Santi’s got football to thank for keeping him looking less like a gangly string bean than Frankie does, but even at 16, the boyish satisfaction of knowing he’ll always be faster than his friend is undeniable.

“Do you do like, cross country or somethin’, Frankie?” 

“Yeah man, I thought Santi said you swam not ran.” 

The Miller Brothers were a new addition to his and Santi’s long standing friendship duo. Will and Benny moved from North Carolina over the summer and had befriended Santi after a few weeks of preseason football camp that the high school held before the start of the school year. Of course, that meant Frankie became friends by proxy shortly after. 

Frankie was fond enough of the two, but the group was still stuck in the awkward dating phase of friendship where everything was just enough of a pissing match to prove that they were worthy enough of each other’s company. 

“Yeah, I’m on the swim team, I don’t do cross country or anything like that.” Frankie shrugs, rounding the curve of the track with ease as he leads the pack to their halfway point. 

“Then how the hell did you get so fast?” Benny pants, the straw blonde hair matted to his forehead with sweat scrunching as he pinches his brows in a mixture of confusion and unadmitted pain. 

“‘Cause he likes to go running with MacKenzie.” 

Santi’s lips curl to a devious smile as he watches Frankie’s face grow red from his sing-songy taunting. At least with the Millers, Frankie could pretend to chalk the hot, pink sting in his cheeks to the mile he’s been running. Unfortunately, he can’t assume the same with Santi. 

“Shut up, Santi.” Frankie grumbles, picking up his pace to the point he knows it’ll make Santi’s lungs strain just enough to keep him from rambling. 

“Oh shit, like, MacKenzie Anderson, MacKenzie?” Will’s face lights up, his less than lengthy friendship making him blissfully unaware of the history between you and Frankie, “She’s hot.” 

“Ew, n- no, she’s not. That’s weird.” 

The other three are surprised Frankie’s pants have yet to set on fire after such a bold lie. 

“They go run together every weekend.” 

At this point, it’s pure mockery the way Santi is teasing him, pushing Frankie to his limits to see how much he can get away with before his friend breaks. 

“So like, are you guys, dating or something?” 

“What?! No! No- She’s like, my best friend. I just- She plays soccer, so I go run with her to help her train and stuff. It’s good cardio, anyways.” 

Frankie doesn’t mean to snap at Benny for his question. It’s a secondary response to the way his chest is tightening and heart is racing as the eyes of all his friends stay peeled to him, like a guilty suspect in a courtroom everyone is waiting to catch in the midst of their lie. 

“Running’s not the only kind of cardio he wishes he was doing with MacKenzie, huh Frankie?” 

The boys are too busy snickering at each other to realize that Frankie’s completely stopped in his tracks ahead of them, turning around with arms outstretched to greet Santi with a brute shove to the ground as they collide. 

“I said shut UP, Santi!”

Frankie doesn’t intend for it to draw as much attention as it does, how the way he’s practically screaming at his friend he’s pushed to the ground has garnered the attention of everyone else in his gym class.

“Jesus, Frankie, it was just a joke! Chill out!” 

Will and Benny help Santi off the rubber of the track, leaving him and Frankie in a silent stare down of flared nostrils and gritted teeth, bodies boiling with teenage testosterone. 

Despite his rage, Frankie has enough self control to keep from saying (or doing) anything else he’ll regret, forcing himself to take off running in a frustrated huff of silence, heart in his throat and fists clenched, leaving behind his group of friends.  

“Shit. Is he always like that when you talk about her?” Will asks, still slightly stunned by the altercation he’s just witnessed, considering Frankie’s usual calm and quiet demeanor. 

“Yup.” Santi replies, popping the “p” at the end of his answer, “Well, not always this bad, but still,  ya know?”  

“Why?” Benny chimes in, the three of them slowly beginning their trot back around the track, lengths behind their fuming friend. 

“‘Cause they’re like, secretly in love with each other. They say they’re just friends, but they act like they’re fucking married.” Santi pretends to gag as he forces his eyes to roll as far back in his head as they possibly can. “He’s been extra pissy because yesterday he found out this guy, Nick Walsh, who’s some senior on the boy’s soccer team, tried to ask her to Homecoming.” 

“Did she say yes?” 

“No! That’s the thing! I don’t know why he’s got his fucking granny panties in a knot about it. Whatever, man. Not my problem.” 

The Miller brothers exchange intrigued glances, wondering how much more they can pry out of Santi as they mope around the track, hoping they can at least make the second half of their two miles entertaining. 

“If he’s mad about it, why didn’t he just ask her?” Will shrugs, offering up what seems like a reasonable solution to his new friend’s problem. 

“Ask him, dude. I have no fucking clue. They’re going with the same group of friends, so they’re gonna spend the whole night together, anyways. Honestly, if you want my opinion, I think he knows he doesn’t have the balls to nut up and ask her himself ‘cause he’s worried she’s gonna say no.” 

Despite the 23 other kids in the class who are also being forced to run circles around the track, there’s only one who makes the three of them freeze as he passes by, feeling the hole he’s burning through the back of their heads. Santi knows he’s too loudmouthed for his own good, and that there’s not a snowball’s chance in hell that Frankie didn’t make out what he had to say as he snuck up behind him. 

And he's right. Frankie hears every word.

If he wasn’t at school, he wouldn’t think twice about punching Santi so hard in the gut it would knock the wind right out of him. But right now, all he can do is keep running, faster and faster, one foot in front of the other. 

Maybe if he runs fast enough, no one will be able to see the tears welling in the corners of his eyes, or the disappointment that’s drained every ounce of color he’s got left in his face. 

Maybe if he runs fast enough, he can outrun the cold, hard truth of the way Santi’s words ring in his ears and put bricks in his chest. 

Maybe, just maybe, if he runs fast enough, somewhere along the worn high school track he’ll find the courage to prove himself wrong. 

You, Present 

You’re convinced he’s following you. He has to be. 

All you wanted to do this morning was to go for a run to clear your head, to blow off some steam after the shit show that had been yesterday’s first interaction with Frankie in the past three years. You were confined to your room for the better half of the day, your dad keeping Frankie hostage in your home far too long for your liking. 

Unfortunately, it’s hard to deny a dying man whatever he wants, even if it’s Frankie Morales’s unwelcome presence in your living room. It also meant having to listen to your dad ramble about Frankie for the next several hours after he’d left, politely nodding at all the compliments and praise your father had to give him while your blood boiled in silence. 

Now, all you wanted to do was to run until your head was free of Frankie for just a little while.

It seemed like Frankie had other plans. 

You gave him the benefit of the doubt the first quarter mile, hell, you even tried to just play it off as unlucky timing at the half mile point. But now, you’re a mile into your run, turning on to Fuller Street with Frankie still trotting behind you. It’s clearly not an accident he’s chosen the same path for his morning jog. 

“There are other ways you can go run, you know.” You shout at Frankie without even turning your head over your shoulder, thinking that maybe he’s assumed you hadn’t noticed him and your not so subtle suggestion will get him to turn around. 

“It’s a free country. I can run where I want.” 

Part of you wishes you would have turned to look back at him so he could see the way your eyes met the back of your skull from rolling them so hard, but you keep your gaze glued to the pavement in front of you. You won’t give him the satisfaction of acknowledging his presence.  

“Can you please just go run somewhere else? I’m just trying to enjoy my morning and you’re not helping, Frankie.” 

“Not trying to bother you, just trying to run. I didn’t have anything to say until you started talking to me.” 

You know if you turned around right now, he’d have that stupid little smug grin hiding in the corner of his cheeks. A battle of wits is his favorite game to play. He’s learned how to strategize, to stay calm, cool and collected in the midst of your chaos, waiting until you hit the breaking point of his crazy you can’t bear to tolerate anymore. Your jaw tenses with the long exhale you take as you prepare to go head to head. 

“I wouldn’t have said anything if you hadn’t been following me the past mile.” 

“How do you know I’m following you?” 

“You’ve literally been running ten feet behind me for the past twelve minutes.” 

“Who says I wasn’t planning on running this way to begin with but you just got a head start?” 

“Jesus Christ, Frankie, please just go pick a different way to run.” 

“Who put you in charge of the running police? Do I have to sign a permit before I go jog now?” 

“Go. Run. Somewhere. Else.” 

“No. You don’t get to tell me where to run. This is the way I wanna go, so I’m gonna keep going until-” 

“No! I know you don’t want to go this way!” You’ve accepted defeat, swinging around to storm towards Frankie, stopping dead in his tracks as he realizes the ferocity you’re approaching him with, “I know for a fact you don’t wanna run this way. You know how I know? Because you hate running down Fuller Street. You would run five miles out of your way before you even considered running down this street on your own free will. There hasn’t been a single time we’ve ever run down this street where you haven’t complained the entire way because of how much you hate the hill at the end of the road before we turn onto Wilson way! That’s how I know, Frankie! So stop pretending like you just happened to choose the same way as me by accident, and just leave me alone! Ugh!” 

You’re positive there’s a trail of steam streaming behind you with the way you’re absolutely fuming, turning back around to take off as fast as your body will let you. You can’t bring yourself to look anywhere but straight ahead, too afraid that if you turn around, those stupid, sad brown eyes will make you feel guilty enough to give him the last word he doesn’t deserve. 

Your feet are flying so fast across the pavement, you’re convinced he’s given up, shocked into submission by your anger that he’ll at least let you finish the rest of your run in peace. Your eyes are still locked on the horizon ahead. It’s the arrogance of your self-reassurance that doesn’t even let you contemplate the thought that several yards behind you, Frankie lets out a quiet “fuck me” before letting his hands drop from their place on his hips to chase behind you at full speed. 

“What the fuck are you doing!?” 

“What does it look like I’m doing?” 

It’s a stupid question. It’s obvious Frankie has said a prayer to hope his knees don’t give out on him as he runs as fast as possible to try and catch up to you. The rhythmic thump of his sneakers pounding against the concrete catches your attention enough to see how quickly he’s gaining on you. It only makes you run faster. 

“Jesus- fuck this hill- MacKenzie, will you fucking slow down?” 

You won’t admit you’re probably just as exhausted as Frankie from the way you’ve been sprinting up the steep incline at the end of the road, but his exasperated huffs are enough to keep you pushing through the pain, mental and physical. 

“No. Run faster.” 

You’re hopeful it’s early enough that no one is awake to see the comedic game of cat and mouse you and Frankie are playing in the middle of the road, chasing each other like you’re on the playground in a childish round of tag. You’d never admit to his face that you know he’s stronger, even faster than you, but the grip he settles around your arm as he finally catches up to you lets you know you’ve lost. 

“Let go of me, Frankie!” 

If the street wasn’t already awake from your wild game of chase, your scream certainly would have gotten their attention. 

“Jesus Christ, MacKenzie, will you just let me talk to you for two fucking seconds?! Please, just- fuck- please just let me fucking talk to you, okay? Please.” 

Even if you wanted to keep running, there was no use. Truth be told, it wasn’t the grasp he had around your arm that was the thing keeping you from sprinting off into the distance. What had you frozen in place was that pathetic pout you knew was splayed across his face, burning a hole in the back of your head. What’s worse, was that you could feel it burning a hole through your chest, too. 

The all too familiar pain that came with holding onto the same, shriveled shred of hope that maybe this time, he’d prove you wrong. Maybe this time, he wouldn’t let you down. 

“Fine.” You barely mutter the word loud enough to hear as you turn around to face him, eyes still looking everywhere but directly at him. 

“I’m sorry, Kenz. I'm sorry, okay? I fucked up.” 

Somehow, his second apology stings worse than the first. It still doesn’t mean you won’t deny how much it hurts. 

“Yeah, no shit.” 

You let your gaze lift just enough to see the way he’s gnawing at his bottom lip, chewing at it like he’s trying to digest his own thoughts before they come out of his mouth. 

“What I said that night at Santi’s wedding, I just-” He pauses, knowing you can hear it clear as day in your head too.

“Fuck you, MacKenzie. Fuck you for ruining my life. It’ll be better off without you fucking in it.” 

“I- I- Fuck. I didn’t mean it. Any of it. I regret ever saying it. I think all the time about how much I regret it. I just, I was in a bad place.” 

You’re not sure what to say. Fuck, you’re not even sure what to feel. Part of you wants to scream at him, kick him in the crotch and berate him for how badly the past three years have hurt you. Part of you just wants to stand there and cry, to say nothing and let your tears flow and spill your emotions down your cheeks. Part of you wants to hug him, to believe him, to have him hold you so tightly against his chest that his apology seeps into your skin until you’ve forgiven him. 

But none of those parts are strong enough to win out alone. Instead, they’ve formed together to create a strange sort of storm that brews in your belly, swirling it so violently, it makes you want to vomit. 

“But you still said it, Frankie. You still said it. If my dad weren’t dying, would you even be here? Would you have ever apologized? Or are you just choosing to apologize now because it’s convenient and you feel like you have to?” 

It’s the first time you can bring yourself to look him in the face. You can see how his brain is churning with the same type of vicious waves that are in the pit of your stomach, drowning out the brown of his eyes. You both are lost in the midst of the storm, but you’ve got a lifeboat. He’s sinking below the thrashing tides, looking for you to let him board your ship. You won’t let him on unless he fights his way through the current to get to you. 

“I should have apologized a long time ago.” 

“Then why didn’t you?” 

“I don’t- I don’t know. I was scared you’d never forgive me.” 

You swear you feel the grip he still has on your forearm tighten just for a moment. Now that he has you, he’s too scared to let you go. 

“Just- Jesus- Just because you apologized doesn’t mean I have to forgive you now, Frankie.” 

“Will you ever?” 

“Ever, what?” 

“Forgive me?” 

Your brain wants to say no. God, with everything in you does it want to say no. But that same stupid pain in your chest that lives and dies by that stupid shred of hope you’ll always hold onto just won’t let you. 

“I don’t know. I- I don’t know, Frankie.” 

You can’t ignore the way he’s still holding your arm. The shred of hope doesn’t want him to let go, even when you scowl at the way his fingers wrap around your skin. You scowl because of how his touch burns your skin, the way it ignites a fire in your gut from how tenderly he touches you. It makes you scrunch your face in frustration and confusion, trying to block out all the times he’s touched you like this before, fingers grazing against your skin in a desperate plea for affection, not forgiveness. He’s holding onto your arm to see if you’ll let him in the lifeboat- if you’ll offer him a chance to save himself. 

“I get it. I’m sorry, Kenz. I hope you at least know I mean it.” 

“I do.” 

You’re not sure what makes you want to offer him a last chance at survival. You’ve been separated by different sides of the same storm for so long- You can’t attest to the way he’s had to fight through it to stay alive, but if it’s anything like the side of the squall you’ve been stuck on, there’s a strange relief in finding in finding someone who knows the hell you’ve faced to keep from drowning in the undertow. You can’t seem to bear letting him drown right in front of you without even trying to help. 

“I still hate you, ya know.” You sigh, a defiant cry to prove to him you’re not happy about the path you’ve chosen. 

“Yeah, that’s fair. I deserve that.” 

It’s the first time you’ve heard him laugh in so long. Even though it’s a muffled huff, trying to hide behind the raise of his eyebrows and nod of his head at the ground, you know it’s there, in that same corner of his smirk he gets when he knows there’s no point in arguing with you- there’s no denying it’s there. 

There’s no denying it makes you do the same. 

“You gonna let me finish the rest of my run in peace, Morales?” 

“Yeah, I guess. Only ‘cause I still hate this fucking hill.” 

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[thesilmarillionblog]

𓏲 𓂃 L o s i n g Y o u

Part: 2

/ Click here to read the first part!

Summary: Everything was good as a member of Payback and Soldier Boy's secret girlfriend until the team and your relationship with him began to fall apart due to a new member and her developing relationship with Ben right in front of your eyes.

Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader

Warnings: Heavy angst, hurt, heartless Soldier Boy, reader gets hurt, mention of drugs, mention of alcohol, mention of sex, betrayal, Soldier Boy being a dick, reader is a supe, Crimson Countess is a bitch

Word Count: 2031

A/N: English is not my first language.

* This story is inspired by the song "Losing You" by Dream Evil.

After your argument with Ben about Countess Noir and your relationship, which occurred a month ago, he hardly spoke to you at all. He never looked you in the eye, either. You were never even certain if his love existed in the first place, but it was clear that the thing between you and Ben had been extinguished forever, even though he hadn't formally ended your relationship with words.

You considered leaving Payback behind, but you found it difficult to distance yourself from Ben, which bothered and despised you about yourself. You were terrified that Ben would harm Earving, in addition to the possibility that he wouldn't mind you leaving the squad. After all, he was your sole friend, and Ben's attitude towards him was cruel and rough. He was merciless to everyone except for Countess.

You denied producing movies, TV shows, or signing days since it was too much to bear to watch Crimson and Ben together, participate in commercials, and be the star of movies in front of your eyes. You just stopped showing up with the squad day by day. Nonetheless, when the rumors surfaced that you would soon leave the group, you were forced to sit with Ben and listen to him while he talked absolute bullshit to the cameras.

When the reporter asked you a question, you were so deep in confusion that you couldn't even begin to count how many times you were asked the same question. You were deep in thought when the reporter asked the same question.

“I'm sorry,” You apologized, giving the TV reporter a feeble smile. “I couldn't catch you.” You were irritated by the number of times you were given the same questions over and over again.

You felt that all you wanted to do was shout and punch everybody who spoke to you and asked you pointless questions about Ben and Crimson, as if it were your responsibility to speak and you were their spokesperson regarding their romance or something. All they saw was a façade of lies; if only someone could see through you and realize that you were drowning in all of them.

He kept talking about the rumors, and you felt like you were about to go crazy in front of the camera and kill someone. At that point, the pressure you were under became too much for you to handle. You ignored all the sounds around you and repressed your tears as you inhaled deeply.

“Look, you know, I have things to do. I apologize if I sound impolite, but it would be preferable if you directed those questions to Crimson and Soldier Boy. After all, it's their life to tell, not mine.”

When you attempted to back away to ask another question, the unsettlingly inquisitive man grabbed your arm. God alone knew how much you wanted to break those arms at that very moment and make him eat his own flesh.

Disregarding your previous statement, he uttered, “Y/N, please inform us. Are they really getting married soon? Don't you think it would be fantastic if the strongest supe woman and strongest supe man got married? A formidable duo! Power Couple! The American public is curious about that.”

He was babbling nonsensically and was clearly trying to get you to kill him. Even though you weren't saying a damn thing, he continued talking about them, and you inhaled deeply and waited for him to finish. When he identified Countess as the strongest female supe, you gave him a little smile.

You replied coolly, “I really don't know about their next move. But allow me to ask you a question. Have you witnessed her battling me?”

You stared him in the eyes when you posed the question, as though it were the most important one ever. The way you changed your attitude startled him.

“Well, no,” he said with a confused look on his face.

“Then what makes you believe that she is the world's strongest supe woman?” You continued to smile at him and continued, “Let's just say I'm curious.”

Crimson wouldn't have a chance against you; you knew it. Ben also knew that. However, you felt unimportant and left her aside each passing day because of the way she was seen as the strongest female supe. You were aware that Ben was assisting her in completing the objectives assigned to her—unlike you, she was never able to complete any of them successfully. She just appeared to be powerful and tough because she was with Ben, not because she was really something.

You were aware that her sole concerns were money and reputation, and neither Ben nor the squad mattered to her. A woman could always see right through another woman.

You suddenly burst out laughing when he opened his mouth. Saying, “Hey, I'm just kidding; relax,” you interrupted him before he could say anything more foolish. “But I really have things to do, okay? Glad to meet you. Have a nice day.”

Fuck, you turned into the biggest liar in a single month because of Ben.

Earving saw you had at last escaped the incessant inquiries and the obnoxious reporter, so he followed you to the van. He was also taking a vacation from marketing his latest film. After taking off his mask long enough to sip his, he handed you a soda.

“Hey, what's the deal? You know, you seem anxious these days.” He ate his hamburger quickly and remarked, “I heard the conversation between you and this idiot man. Fuck him; they are so fucking irritating sometimes, it’s hard to stop myself from breaking their necks.”

You took a big sip of your soda and gave him a nod. It was nice to have small talk with Earving, considering he was the only kind and smart person left in the squad after all.

“Yeah,” you said while Ben and Countess got out of their special trailer, and you watched them with a heavy heart when Ben gave her quick and playful kisses.

It was Ben's blindness and his intense care for her that pained you, and it was his seeming blitheness and comfort around her that made you hurt. It was obvious to you that she was lying and tricking him. Witnessing Ben give her everything he didn’t bother to give you wounded you. They had a really open connection, even if there was still some space between you when you were dating.

You were concealed by him like a rat in the shadows, unlike her.

The countess never once left his side, not even for a moment. You were frantically trying to find a moment to speak with Ben once again. If you had been alone with him, you would have succeeded in discovering the cause of his sudden and dramatic change.

“Earving,” you said like a whisper. “Can you distract Countess for tonight?” You turned to him with pleading eyes.

“Why?” he asked as he ate his third hamburger.

“Can you just do it?” You huffed as you kept watching Ben from afar.

“Fine,” he said with his full mouth, spitting the tomatoes. “You fucking stress me out since you’ve started to act like Soldier Boy.”

“Don’t insult me,” you said as you chuckled, punching him softly and stealing his last hamburger.

When Earving managed to divert Countess, it was midnight, and you saw them vanish out of sight. When you saw Ben pull into his own trailer, your heart began to race, and you quickly followed him. You made a self-promise to try it one final time. After all, you were doing this for one another, and when it came to love, pride had no place.

When you entered the trailer, you locked the door immediately, leaned your back against the door, and your hands stilled on the handle as if he would escape any moment. It was dim inside.

You heard him inhaling deeply before he turned his back to you and gave you a look like you were an insect that simply refused to leave the house in the summertime. Though you were close to him physically, the distance between you and his coldness toward you was visible.

He gave you a stern look and maintained his distance from you, asking in a harsh voice, “Why the fuck are you here again? Are you going to start spreading gossip about us?”

You just answered, “No,” disregarding his sour tone and remarks. “Ben, all I want to do is talk.”

“I fucking have things to do; cut it short.”

He was leaning back against the drug- and alcohol-filled table. Though it was obvious that he was getting worse every day, he was unable to recognize his condition. 

“Why did you change so suddenly? Did I do something wrong?” Not wanting to come across as hostile and cause him to harm you verbally once more, you asked in a quiet voice. “I just need a simple explanation.”

You continued to stare at him with wet eyes, and he sighed and gave you his signature grin.

“Just admit your pussy missed me; that’s why you are so desperate, so I can give you a good and quick fuck,” he said, giving you a playful look.

Aware that he was only attempting to divert the conversation or embarrass you, you remained silent and paid no attention to the garbage that was pouring out of his mouth.

“Why, Ben?”

“Why do you act like a fucking obsessive woman? Do you need an explanation? Fine, listen to me carefully, then: I can do whatever I want. Is that good enough for you? ”

With a heavy heart, your hands on the door handle tightened. Ignoring his harsh words, your jaw clenched, and you shook your head in denial.

“Why did you act like you loved me and cared about me then?”

“What love? Fuck, I don’t even like you,” he snapped out of nowhere, irritated by the choice of your words. “We just passed some time and fucked, that’s all. Don’t be a bitch about it; you’ll get over it,” he said, giving you a wink.

He sounded so different and cold that it was hard to believe he was the same man with whom you fell in love so deeply months ago. It was like someone else possessed his body and turned him against you in a day.

“Why do you even look at me with such hatred?” you asked, ignoring how much his words pained your heart. Your voice cracked, not knowing how to handle the situation or his unbalanced behavior anymore.

“Fuck!” he screamed at you, finally losing his temper and making a move to approach while you still leaned your back against the door. “You know what? I’m going to marry her.”

You loosened your hand around the doorknob and cupped his face without hesitation, knowing he would do it just to make sure you suffered.

“I swear I’ll walk away the day you marry her, Ben,” you said with a desperate voice, hoping it would mean something to him. “I’ll leave Payback.”

“Fuck you will,” he clenched his jaw, pushing your back against the door. “I fucking swear, the day you leave will be the day of Noir‘s death. No, I’ll make sure to make him even worse.”

“What kind of monster have you turned into?” You whispered and pushed him off of you.

“Yet you told me you loved me,” he said, giving you an unsincere smile.

“I do love you, Ben, and that’s the last time you hear this from me.”

Next Chapter

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

A/N: I was very surprised to see that you wanted another part for this so-called one shot story. Your comments made me very happy.

Taglist: @mostlymarvelgirl

Let me know if you want to be tagged for this series!

[strniohoeee]

could you write a matt one shot based off the song casual and could you also add smut to it please

Sidelines

Pairing: Matt Sturniolo X Female Reader

Synopsis: What even is casual? In Y/N’s book it’s all or nothing. Fighting to be more than friends with benefits with Matt, things take a turn….will she be more than just his friend?

Warnings⚠️: SMUTTTTTT, Titty Fuckinggg, Matt being a munch fr fr, uhh lowkey toxic Matt?? This is also paired with a request for titty fucking💃🏽🫶🏽

Song for imagine: Casual- Chappell Roan

⚠️This is an 18+ imagine, so minors do not interact, or do??⚠️

Sideline

Noun

An activity done in addition to one’s main job, especially to earn extra income

I constantly found myself stuck in the weird gray area with Matt. He was the sweetest most caring guy I’ve ever been with, but then he’d turn around and act like I was one of the guys.

I felt confused constantly, but mainly annoyed. I’d go on trips with his family and friends, but it was never this is my girlfriend it was always this is my friend. It got cringe at some points. Like nails to a chalkboard to hear that come out his mouth.

He’d say it’s casual babe, or we’re just seeing each other. But god forbid I wanted to see other people. That started an argument that lasted hours. Then he’d ghost me for days and then he’d show up at my door and be the most perfect guy ever.

You can’t be the textbook definition of a perfect boyfriend and then claim we’re everything but a real relationship. It was getting exhausting. Doing this for over a year now, but I couldn’t help myself. A man as fine as Matt will keep you attached to him no matter what.

His eyes, his lips, his scent, his warmth, his embrace. I hated that he had such a hold on me, but I’d never give it up.

Except for today, I had enough of this and honestly if he wouldn’t ask me to be his girlfriend then I was going to leave.

“Do you like me?” I suddenly asked Matt as I shut my phone screen off

“Of course I like you” Matt chuckles as he looks at me over his phone

“But you won’t be with me?” I asked him furrowing my brows

“I am with you though” he said chewing his bottom lip

“No… I don’t think so actually” I replied to him

“What do you mean?” He asks

“We’ve been at this bullshit for almost two years now and you won’t call me your girlfriend” I said to him, anger slowly bubbling in me

“I don’t like labels. If we vibe then we vibe” He replied

“Yeah well I’ve been vibing for too long and I’m getting over it actually” I said fixing the bottom of my shirt

“You think I’m seeing other girls? Because you can check my phone. Look through everything. You’re the only girl I’m with” he said shutting his phone off now

“I never said that, but I’m starting to think you’re going to have to. I’m not going to waste my life with some guy who says we’re casual but then we’re exclusively seeing each other. Yet you won’t call me your girlfriend nor introduce me that way” I replied rolling my eyes

“So you want to see other guys?” He asks clenching his jaw

“No not really, but if someone’s out there who’s willing to actually be my boyfriend and be more than this friends with benefits bullshit….then yeah my friend, I will” I said beginning to stand up

“I just don’t get it I feel like I shouldn’t have to say you’re my girlfriend, you should just know it” he says rubbing his eyes

“Sorry sweetie, but I’m old fashioned. What do you think one day you’re going to just hand me a ring and I’ll just have to assume youre my husband now?” I replied theatrically

“I just think you like to argue” he says laughing

“It’s fine, since we’re casual then I’ll just go find someone who will actually value me and want to be my man” I said grabbing my purse off the coffee table and turning to leave

“You don’t get the last word” Matt suddenly says sharply as he grabbed my arm

“Oh.. was I supposed to just assume that too?” I asked mockingly

“You have such a smart mouth” he said scowling at me

“Nothing I haven’t heard, now can you let me go FRIEND. I have a real man to find” I said tugging from him

“Woah” he said as his eyes lit up and his grasp became even more firm

“Matt I’m serious, stop it” I replied rolling my eyes

His jaw clenched as his eyes went dead, he ran his tongue over his teeth as he looked me up and down. His eyes squinted quickly.

“Your tits look amazing in this shirt” he said smirking

A small gasp left my mouth as a cold chill ran down my spine.

Running his hand down my neck as his fingers played with my necklace. Slowly his fingers ghosted over my exposed cleavage.

I was so grateful I put on my skin tight v neck this morning.

Backtracking us, the back of my knees hit the edge of the couch. Sinking down, my gaze stood on his as he now towered over me.

“All this talk of a real man, if I weren’t a real man I wouldn’t be able to handle you and your attitude. Nor would I have you speechless and breathless beneath me… so please for the sake of my sanity…think before you speak next time” He replied in a cold whisper as his fingers ran along my jawline

All I could do was blink slowly. I mean I wasn't used to this Matt at all. Of course we had sex before, but this side of him was something new. Something mean and dark…and I fucking loved it.

“I think for all the trouble you have put me through this evening I deserve a gift” he said now leaning over as his lips ghosted over mine

“What do you think?” He asked me

“Whatever you want” I replied leaning into his kiss, but he pulled away before our lips connected

Whimpering, I looked up at him once again.

“Your tits have had me mesmerized this whole day…. I think I deserve to fuck them” he said sliding his leather jacket off

Gasping once again, I felt a pool between my legs. This idea was so filthy and I loved it.

Nodding feverishly, Matt smiled at me before nodding himself.

“That’s my girl” he said

Sinking down to his knees in front of me, Matt pulled off his shirt in an instant. His pale skin twinkled in the warm light of his living room.

His hands ran up my thighs and slowly up the sides of my torso. Goosebumps rose as I slightly shivered. His fingers hooked in the bottom of my shirt before sliding it off.

His eyes lit up at the hot pink bra infront of him.

Suddenly Matt leaned in and crashed our lips together, our tongues instantly becoming tangled together. Slowly he pulled away and began to kiss my jawline and down my neck.

Moaning quietly my fingers ran through his hair, slightly tugging at the roots.

Soon his lips moved to my collar bone and then to my exposed cleavage.

Pulling away Matt’s lips were red and his hair was ruffled. Almost enough to make me cum instantly.

His hands slid behind me as they unclipped my bra. My breasts falling out. He licked his lips before attaching his lips to mine again. His hands gropping my breast. Moaning into the kiss my hips bucked up wanting, no! Craving more.

His lips went down to my right breast and he began to twirl his tongue around as he massaged the other one. Soon changing and doing to the other one the exact same thing.

He came back to the valley of my breast and began to leave sloppy kisses all the way down to the hemline of my leggings.

Kicking my sandals off, he slid my pants and panties down in one go. Looking up at me in a drunken haze.

Rubbing his hands up my thighs, he crouched down a little more; and hiked my legs open which caused me to lean back. Propped up on my elbows my hands ran into his hair.

Matt lowered his head and began to kiss my clit, a gasp leaving my lips. He then ran a flat tongue along my clit.

“Oh my god Matt” I moaned out as my toes curled

He began to suck and slurp at my cunt as I gripped onto his hair harder. Dipping his tongue in and out of me. Licking up my cunt and attaching his lips to my clit.

Sucking and swerving his tongue over the sensitive bundle of nerves. All that could be heard were my moans and gasps and the slurps of Matt going to town.

Slowly he sunk his middle finger into me, curling upwards as he sucked on my clit.

“FUCK” I yelled out as my hips bucked upwards

Humming against me he continued his assault on my clit.

“Matt please please please please, don’t stop” I moaned out as my eyes drilled shut and I pushed his head further into me

Pumping and sucking even harder had me seeing birds flying around. I felt myself on the verge of cumming and cumming hard!

“Oh my god..oh my god. Fuck I’m gonna cum” I moaned out as my thighs began to quiver

Moaning into me he continued at the same pace.

In spite of all our arguments one thing I will say is, Matt listened to instructions very well.

“Shit shit shit” I began to squeezed my eyes even harder as my hips buckled upwards

“IM GONNA CUMMMM” I began to moan loudly

Suddenly my upper body began to shake as my thighs quivered. Shallow breaths escaping me

“MATT MATT OH MY GOD” I moaned out as I came so hard

coming down from my high, I opened my eyes as I tried to catch my breath.

Matt backed away from me and leaned over me, kissing me as I tried to catch my breath

“You’re so good to me” I replied looking up at him

A sly smile creeped on his face as he winked at me.

Matt’s lips went down to the valley of my breasts, where he laid a flat tongue out. And licked in between the valley of my breasts

Standing up he unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his jeans. Letting them fall to his ankles. He slid his boxers down too.

His hard and leaking cock sprung out. Licking my lips I reached out to touch him

“No no, I’m going to use you today” he said pushing my hands away

Nodding shyly I watched as Matt used his own spit to lubricate his hand. Slowly bringing it down to his dick and coating it in his saliva.

Hissing and bucking his hips up, his jaw clenched as he rocked his hips into his fist.

“Spit” he said looking at me

Listening to him I opened my mouth and spat on his dick like he asked.

Moaning in a low tone which put me in a drunken haze.

Matt grabbed my hands and brought them up to my breasts.

“Hold them” he replied to me

I obliged and held my breasts together. Slowly Matt slid his dick in between them.

Moaning instantly as he began to fuck my tits.

“Fuck, you’re such a good girl” he said as he clenched his jaw and hissed

Moaning at his praise. I looked into his eyes as his hips snapped up against me

“Fuck I love you, I hope you know that. I want no one but you. You are mine. My girlfriend, my wife, fuck…whatever you want” He replied as he bucked his hips up harder

“Okay” I replied in a moan

His hands still holding my hands as he fucked my chest.

“Shit” he whimpered as I saw his thighs shake

“Do you see what you do to me? I can’t even last longer than five minutes” he replied in a whimper

“Oh my god” he whimpered quietly

“Gonna cum baby” I asked as I looked at him

“Fuck, yes” he replied as he began to groan

Quickening his pace, he held my hands tighter as I felt his cock slide in between my breasts.

“I’m gonna cum” he moaned out at his brows furrowed

Releasing my hands he pulled away, jerking himself off quickly

“Fuck fuck fuck” he moaned out

Hitting his orgasm, painting my tits in his thick white ropes of cum.

“Oh my god” he moaned out breathlessly

Riding out his high, before sinking next to me.

“Fuck Y/N, I love you” he replied leaning over and kissing my lips

“I love you too” I replied kissing back

Reaching over Matt picked up his phone

“Can I show you something” he said breathlessly

“Yes” I replied giggling

Coming closer he showed me a photograph album in his camera roll labeled ‘My Girlfriend’

“And I’m going to add another picture to it right now” he said giggling

“Matt no..” I replied laughing

“Stop it’s hot” he said sniffling

Turning his phone horizontally so my face wasn’t in the photo. He grabbed my right boob with his left hand and took a flash photo.

“One for the books” he said closing his camera roll

“You’re so weird” I replied

“Let’s get you cleaned up” he said as we both stood up and walked to his bathroom

“How long have you had that photo album?” I asked him as he turned the bath water on

“About two months into us seeing each other” he replied looking over his shoulder

“So why wouldn’t you ask me to be your girlfriend” I said sinking in to the hot tub before Matt

“Because I’m scared of labels and of ruining things. So it’s like if there’s nothing there to begin with, then how can I ruin it “ he stated as he sank into the hot water too

“You are such an interesting person” I said smiling at him

“I know, and I’m working on it” he replied shaking his head

“I love you” I said leaning over and kissing him

“I love you too” he said leaning in to the kiss

The End

Boy what the helllllllll. I’ve been gone for mad long and I’m sorry, pookies. So enjoy this treat. I love y’all dearly and I thank you for the support till this day. It’s almost been a year since I’ve started writing. Which is insane to me🥺🖤🖤 and we’re almost at 2,700 followers. You guys are fucking amazing. Love you sooo much

-J💅🏽

[g0thnico]

Things that if I were Rick Riordan I would make more dramatic:

Percy and Gabe's relationship. I understand that it's a children's series so it's normal not to be explored as much, but if PJO was written by me, I would be turning this into one of the main points of Percy's traumas

Percy's mortal life. The only times this is introduced in PJO is to show something divine next, usually monsters or new problems. I would have shown more of what Percy was like at school and his relationship with mortals (or lack thereof)

Percy's powers. Okay, Percy is super powerful and doesn't have any conditions for this?? Nico has nothing more fair. For me, Percy's healing should 2hurt, a burning sensation for cuts and the feeling of bones going back into place when he needs to fix them. In addition, his ability to control water will cause hunger that varies according to how much he used his powers

Ares. Okay Ares is the god of war, but also the protector of women, don't you think he would have at least conflicted feelings about Percy because he was abused along with his mother? I think he would have at least a little empathy for him because of Sally

Percy's romantic life. Okay Rick, we already understand that you definitely don't know how to write romance novels, so leave it to me. Your development of Percabeth was crap and Perachel manages to make it worse, don't even talk to me about Percalypso, he accidentally ended up making Percy's romantic development with two of Hades' sons better than the canon couples. Yes, I'm talking about Bianca di Angelo because it seems like no one noticed the way he talked about Bianca (she was different from the other girls and easy to talk to), Nico (he felt a great sense of protection towards him and couldn't stop thinking about the boy who ran away) and HADES (he was amazed by Hades' dark form and would like to sleep at his feet????)

Grover and Percy soul connection. The fact that Grover and Percy are bonded and feel each other's feelings and the fact that if one dies, the other dies with them, has only been explored 2 or 3 times and that is absurd!!!! I would do at least 5 dramatic scenes where Percy feels an indescribable sadness and can't show anything but Grover cries and breaks down in helplessness just by feeling his friend's emotions. Maybe another one where Grover almost dies and Percy spits blood and faints and everyone has to find a way to save both of them or simply undo the bond before one dies, or even take care of one through the other's body (if that's possible) ok I have a lot of ideas

finally, the older brother complex coming from Sally (feeling like the experiment that went wrong and watching what went right grow). Long title, I know, but it's necessary and self-explanatory. Sally had Percy and went through a lot of hardships because he was a demigod and she was practically a single mother (having Gabe as a husband is the same as nothing) so Percy grew up with a lot of trauma and somewhat neglected by his parents and society (don't be fooled, Sally is an excellent mother, but they were a poor family and she had to work, leaving the boy to fend for himself and become somewhat independent too soon). He did everything possible to avoid causing trouble and in Sally's eyes, he really didn't! She sees all the problems they went through as the fault of the gods or monsters, not her son (the victim). So Sally gets rid of Gabe, moves out, marries a good man who understands her and accepts her "we have to deal with half-blood stuff" lifestyle, and has a normal, mortal daughter who has a perfect family. Percy never had that, and when he does, he feels like he's second best in this butter-business family. So he wants his sister to have the best life possible but realizes it's too late for him to live that

and the younger brother complex from Poseidon (feels like he must exceed his expectations, become the hero everyone expects, become as good as all the other sons of Poseidon). Percy is a demigod, accidentally a son of Poseidon and that shouldn't be a big deal. But suddenly there is a prophecy and he is the chosen one, so he is Poseidon's favorite son, strongest demigod, hero of Olympus and he needs to be strong, more than ever Percy needs to be not only good, but the best. Never in his life was he expected to do anything, not even get past the 6th grade so dad God Almighty puts all this weight on his back and he almost dies more times than he can count

[tokiwarcube]

Any headcanons on what the boys would call their S/O? like pet names/nicknames? :)

Cute!!! I threw in Charles for this one too, just because <3 Enjoy!

Nathan Explosion

In the beginning of your relationship, he’s very committed to “babe,” and “babe” alone. It’s casual, it’s not sickeningly sweet — it’s perfect for Nathan.

But I think once he gets more attached, and lets himself open up more, he gets a bit softer. Like yeah, he adores the honeymoon stage of the relationship, but actually developing real feelings beyond infatuation? It changes him. Once he hits that point, there’s some… new additions to the petname lexicon. Every now and again he’ll let a quiet little “sweetie” slip, and yeah he’s a little embarrassed about it, but he never actually removes it from his vocabulary. He’s a not-so-secret softie.

Pickles the Drummer

You could probably change your name to “babe” at this point, with how much he uses it for you. Called across the house in summons, whined pathetically in protest, or murmured sweetly against your skin — this man lives and dies by “babe.” Although let’s be real: You’re not exempt from “dude,” either.

You might get treated to a “sweetheart” every now and then, though — that midwestern drawl makes it sound really, really nice. He uses this one just a smidge more when he’s trying to butter you up, for whatever reason. You’re ashamed to admit that it works.

Skwisgaar Skwigelf

I think in the beginning of your relationship, he’s very liberal with them — he gauges your reactions to see which ones you like, and keeps the ones that fluster you most. It’s like a game, really.

But once he’s genuinely comfortable with you? He really starts to narrow them down into ones that feel right for both of you — more tender, more meaningful. “My love” becomes a staple both in and out of the house, but he’s also prone to bringing in terms of affection from his native language. Half of it is because he can hide his painfully deep adoration in a language you don’t speak — Käraste, dearest; Mitt allt, my everything — but he’ll never actually say that. If prodded as to why he’s so liberal with these ones in particular, he just says it’s because he knows how much you like his accent.

Although if there’s a height difference (and let’s be real, there absolutely is), he’ll often attach “little” to your name. Sometimes he’ll take your cheeks in his grasp, cooing out a little “min lillis” — something that after a million google searches, you’ve worked out to be a (slightly patronizing) way of calling you tiny. Throw it’s counterpart back at him though, and he’ll swoon a little harder than he cares to admit.

Toki Wartooth

Frankly, I think it’d be easier to find a petname he hasn’t used for you at this point. He uses them very liberally, watching to see which ones you like the most — once he finds one that really works for you, he puts that one above the others… but that’s not to say he won’t bring out a few sickly sweet ones every now and again, still. Doesn’t matter how cheesy or god-awful they are — he thinks they’re cute.

William Murderface

He’s got a specific way of using petnames — when he’s greeting you, he always leads with “beautiful.” He always says it the exact same way each time too — a very drawn out “hello beautiful,” without fault. Did he get it from a movie? Did he just pick up on the fact that you think it’s cute? You’re not sure, and he won’t tell you. But it does indeed make you soft, so hey, mission accomplished.

But beyond that, he’s more partial to things like “sweetheart” and “babe.” The former is more common for when he’s teasing, but “babe” is his universal go-to, otherwise.

Charles Foster Offdensen

He doesn’t use many petnames — he feels like most of them are far too overused or ingenuine. Why use a name that everyone else uses for their lover, when your name holds thrice the amount of love and reverence when he says it? Although I will admit… he is rather partial to “dear,” and “sweetheart.”

What? They’re classics. There’s a difference between “overused” and “classic.”

[alicerosejensen]

No time to die

Warning: Death of the reader; injuries; mention of blood; implied parting with Leon; Old leon; Fem!reader

Synopsis: he should have decided on his feelings before telling you about love. He should be taking care of you instead of running after Ada again, but now he will have enough time for this activity.

A/N: Sometimes I write about Leon's slippery ass. Well, I really had disturbing thoughts again.

If you were given a choice on whose hands to spend the last minutes of your life, you would never have chosen the hands of Leon S Kennedy.

In fact, you would rather lie in a pool of your own blood, moving away from him as far as possible, leaving dark scarlet streaks behind you, than let him help you. After all, despite all his love for this man, he caused you a very strong pain. Even stronger than what you feel now, when you try to get to your feet leaning on torn palms, spitting out a thick foam of blood.

Well, ordinary civilians can hardly resist a giant bioweapon that has crushed a bunch of people like bugs up to this point, but if Ada Wong was only slightly knocked down by a blow, which caused her to lose consciousness for a while, then you were thrown with such force that the organs inside seem to have turned into porridge.

But at that moment you didn't care anymore. The pain pierced every cell of your body and the only desire in your head was just to hide from it somewhere. Leon and his endless love for Ada didn't care anymore, but this pain will always remain in your heart. After all, he came to her aid and not to you.

You started coughing up blood. From every breath it became increasingly unbearable to breathe, and then you lost that fragile balance that you found for a couple of short seconds, collapsing on shards of glass that crumbled under your weight. Everything swam before your eyes. You didn't have the strength to curse anyone because all you wanted was not hugs and a declaration of love, but for this painful hell to end faster! A grunt escaped from your throat when someone tried to turn your body over and provide first aid, but only blood splattered out of your mouth.

"God," Leon's partner looked at you with big frightened eyes, trying to think of something, but stopped when you gathered the remnants of your strength and grabbed her hand, looking at the gun in her holster.

The last mercy for the dying.

"Please..." your hoarse, very quiet whisper begged Helena to "finish it"

Tears flowed from red eyes mixing with the blood that was on your face. From this pain, the vessels in your eyes burst and it seems that the only way out was a kind of voluntary euthanasia by a bullet in the head and not waiting for your body to stop fighting death before the damaged organs stop working themselves.

And then Helena's loud voice was heard calling Leon to finally break away from his beloved and pay attention to the dying you. If your condition were better, you would spit this very blood in his face. However, he really ran up to you after a couple of seconds, laying you on his lap, trying to do everything carefully so as not to cause additional pain. You didn't really want to spit, but you accidentally soiled his face when he stroked your hair.

Crimson thin rivulets slowly poured out of your nose and you closed your eyes a little at a new outbreak of suffocating pain that filled your whole body reflexively clinging to Leon's hand. His skin showed signs of broken nails, but he didn't seem to mind. It was unbearable for you to take even a small breath; even one attempt was accompanied by a bloody, foamy, painful cough at the edge of your mouth. It was like Hell.

Leon seemed to be looking for something that could help you, delay death, but Helena already understood everything. Anyone who saw you would understand that the injuries you received were not compatible with life.

“Please don’t...please,” Leon muttered, trying to stop the scarlet stain spreading under your chest. “Baby, I know, I know it hurts, but be patient.”

“Leon...” his partner called quietly, hinting that it was pointless.

And at some point you noticed Ada looking at you without pity, without disgust, without any other emotions. Just another corpse that crossed their path. Wong only had a couple of scratches. She did not writhe in agony and Leon would quickly find solace in her immediately after your death, this thought made your body gather its last strength and with a tearing cough look at the man in front of you, in whose eyes you could see fear for your life. On your last breath, you decided to hurt him before you die, as punishment for what he did to your heart, crushing it like a paper ball, and then tearing it apart, throwing you pathetic scraps... Well, that's how you saw it.

Leon caught that look, something in it even scared him, but your next words, which were the last, were forever imprinted in his memory and on his heart. Because you knew how painfully he endures the fact that someone hates him. You pulled your hand out of his and with hatred hissed something that was not even true in essence. It's just that at this very moment you wanted him to understand what pain he caused you with his love for Ada Wong.

"I... ha-te... you"

Everything inside Leon snapped in the same second. His love for Ada has remained a pain in your heart, but... the same pain will remain in him. The last breath, and your eyes, which he loved so much, glazed over, and your mouth remained slightly ajar. Ada... she didn't say anything, but was she surprised? Leon grabbed your hand again, trying to feel at least a weak pulse, but the words you said were pounding in his head, making tears flow from his eyes.

"No," he whispered softly, unable to believe what was happening. You couldn't die in his arms like that and you couldn't say those words. You had no reason to say those words to him! "Come on, look at me, I'll take you to a safe place. They will help you"

Helena put her hand on his shoulder, realizing how it hurt him in the end. He doesn't even have the opportunity to leave your body in a safe place and all he and Ada could do was watch him stroke your cheek with one hand holding your shoulders. The pose is exactly similar to when he defended Ada in China, only she was able to survive and you unfortunately did not.

"It's not your fault... no one is to blame for her death," Ada only said. She felt sorry for him " And her words... Leon..."

"She was not herself," Helena picked up, looking at Leon silently

Ada at some point correctly decided that it was out of jealousy. Just the last time to prick a loved one knowing that he will keep these words to himself for a long time. But they didn't have time for mourning and tears, however, even she didn't have the tongue to tell Leon to leave you here. So she just asked for his jacket and wrapped you in it, believing that you really would like it - to be enveloped in the fragrance of a loved one before death.

now was simply not the time and place to grieve, but even she did not understand the meaning of the words you said. After all, Leon really left her for you. Ada couldn't give him the stability and love he needed. Their complicated relationship hurt Leon in a way, but with you he became a normal person. She understood this, so she calmly retreated, because neither he nor she had ever felt sincere love for each other. Leon found this bright feeling in you by breaking off even short dates with her forever, and all Ada could do was really help him later.

Your death was committed out of place and all three of them understood that from Leon now only the shadow of the former man will remain and he himself will wallow in alcohol constantly replaying your dying words on repeat.

You really shouldn't have told him that.

[fictionfixations]

I FINALLY FINISHED CANTO 8 OHHH MY GOD

IM CAUGHT UP

ohhhhhhhh my god

ALSO NO MAINTENANCE LETS GOOOOOOOOO i dont know what i wouldve done after doing this fight and then it being during maintenance because not in a million years do i want to redo that fight again

technically its not that hard i know what to do i actually read shit but oh man

also i know on like previous posts i was like im gonna wait for walpurgis night and get dawn office sinclair

ha

i kept getting knocked down to my backup units so i actually needed sinclair to.. not be level 12 (hes the last backup but oh my god does it make a difference)

so i got cinq sinclair and used like the immediately uptie to 4 thing and immediately level to 50 thing, i also threadspinned his ego from the battlepass which was GOOD because oh my god

i swear the egos from the battlepass carried me

like fluid sac carried me too (i cant believe faust survived the entire fight for once holy shit, also i cant believe the remaining units had the attacks to be able to keep fueling fluid sac??? I thought id have to wait a day so i could use sapling of light abilities again but NOPE)

but oh my god did it do big damage

it was in the hundreds man goddamn

also used the fact that hong lu cant die unless all other allies are dead even though him dying loses the battle (after you get like the happiness thing) to my advantage by using his battlepass ego because oh man big damage and oh whats this a free heal instead of immediately dying after? lets goooo

not to understate sinclair's ego either because it was GREAT hell yeah

also that all my units are decently leveled (except meursault ive been using a support id, sorry man but pursuance ego and chain of others are also really helping and i dont have his pursuance ego, so its not worth it to level him right now when im not even using the id i have)

lowest is 44 but the rest are around 50-55 so that was good

also actually uptied outis, feel like i underestimated her all this time because she did good, i just didnt have a need to before because she was always in backup and was more used as additional targets so my stronger units could get damage in

her skill three animation was pretty (warp outis)

also dont remember what it was but both heishou pack si ids have this one attack where they like i think sheathe their weapon and then have an eye glint and i keep thinking theyre gonna attack again but they dont 💀

also??? i think don quixote (t corp) did something with time/clock?? there was like a status effect id never seen before (or maybe i just never noticed idk its very easy for me not to notice things right in front of me) where so the enemy wouldnt take damage because all that damage would get stored and then by like the end of the turn or something like that it would all hit at once

THIS

ive just. never noticed.

anyway thoughts on canto 8 (may get very personal ngl)

loved it

hong lu was already up there in my favorites along with yi sang but man did this make me love him more

just.. the thought that like well yeah shit can seem meaningless and futile when its all gonna end someday, but as long as youre still with us stuffs gonna keep happening. yeah we might part ways one day, but the end is also the beginning. where eventually youll move on but youll also experience new things.

for as long as you walk this world, the world will continue spinning, it will continue moving regardless of whether you feel like theres a meaning, and like well

yeah you could isolate yourself and it could feel ilke nothings happening at all, that everything pointless, but the people around you will still do things, things will still keep happening, and

okay i feel like im butchering this but you know what i mean okay

ive had very nihilistic views before, especially because at one point i just... didnt like living, it was just full of suffering and i hated it and i was so so tired and things that shouldve been important just lost meaning to me because yknow, whats the point? if we're all gonna die today, why do we live? if i intend to not live this long, then whats the point of doing stuff for the benefit of my future self?

but life kept moving on around me, and i eventually tired of putting myself into this cycle of self-hatred because it was just so draining

so i kept moving on. kept living day by day. and well i cant really say theres a meaning to life, a meaning to my life that i want to strive for, to live for, not really

but i got interested in things, as fleeting as they would be, and despite how they would eventually end. i got myself attached to stories and games, as tragic as those stories may be and as sad as i may be when it finally reaches its end, i live the next day to continue experiencing these stories, and to get enjoyment out of it

i used to feel so miserable all the time, but now i find myself laughing so much more, smiling so much more

god i got so sidetracked but i relate to hong lu a lot. man am i glad i started playing this game man..

when i first started i immediately latched onto yi sang as a favorite (maybe because he was one of my first 3 stars haha) and i loved his canto, i loved the meaning, that yeah the mirror can show multiple possibilities, but the mirror is also a reflection of yourself, so these possibilities? theyre yours. these wings you wish you had so badly? if theyre on me, then theyre on you too. its like 3 am forgive me for butchering trying to explain this but god did i love it. i like re-listening to the limbus company mili songs and ill sing along and fly my wings.. 'please die little dreams' i just start sobbing it keeps making me emotional man

hong lu? i can attribute it to partially because when i started reindeer hong lu was on the banner and he looked cool, i liked his personality, and it grew from there as i progressed through the story but he'd never been as high up there as yi sang. until now.

also his announcer brings up a lot of stuff that makes me kinda sad, he does bring up emotions like ah so this is what wrath feels like, like he'll bring up the same emotions he brought up in the last fight (happiness, joy, wrath, sorrow..), and also other things in relation to the sinners that hit me in the feels man

maybe not in the same way as don quixote's 'i was blessed with a family of twelve' because oh man if i wasnt sobbing already during that part i wouldve burst into tears, but it still made me very emotional

also the the dante being like 'you know how i know this? because im talking about myself here' GREAT LINE oh my god

also actually WE LOVE JIA QIU IN THIS HOUSEHOLD, im sure im not the only one who was like shut up jia huan during that moment but very very appreciated, the 'not forming opinions on him based on what others say' i cant remember the exact quote, continuing to push hong lu to not be appeasing, to not just say what others want to hear, and not to say something that could work but does not count as something he believes in and is again just another way to appease of okay you want an actual answer but then is kind of a nothing burger

i love that jia qiu continued pushing until he got what hong lu really believed in, what he really thought, even if it mightve been something he wouldnt have necessarily agreed with, or something that others would consider childish and naive, got hong lu to say something hes held so close to his heart, accepted it but which had also given him the confidence to more speak his mind, to speak more confidently and elaborate on what he meant, and so his answer of 'kindness' wasnt something kind of like well. short. i dont know how to describe it.

yes hoping for others to be kind is probably a tough ask, especially considering where they live, but the sinners are proof that people can be kind to each other and help lift each other up when moments are tough.

one person cant do all that heavy lifting, but as long as there are people reaching out a hand and well embracing each other even if its just one person, then thats still something, thats still a bond that'll make the world lighter, thatll give them the ability to move forward and the strength to tackle on more heavier problems

i mean im clearly biased since its hong lus answer but MAN

and so jia qiu also telling him that like he cant keep drifting like a cloud, that to achieve this he cant keep watching things silently without doing anything, he cant keep acting the way he has that was forced onto him to deal with the trauma he faced, and does have to be there, does have to act, just like how his younger self used to be

its

its validating that his younger self wasnt wrong for wanting to help people, for wanting to act even if he couldnt save everyone, even if everyone around him kept telling him that he should just 'sit still and look pretty'

god man

theres so much stuff i could say

also holy shit this post is getting long oh my god

im gonna end this here man

but fuck man canto 8...

to be perfectly honest i dont remember a lot from canto 1 and 2 but i remember liking it and thats why i kept playing (gonna have to reread them cause man i do try to pay attention when first starting a game but its also like i dont know what is going on which really impacts my ability to remember this stuff)

canto 3 i loved, it made me like sinclair more even if the ending felt sort of incomplete because it wasnt sinclair who in the end killed kromer

the chicken intervallo was hella funny and made me like more of the other sinners outside of just the ones whod already gotten a focus and the ones who were my favorites

canto 4 was beautiful (and also forced me to actually understand a little better wtf im doing in fights)

canto 5 made me feel a lot of things, it made me think a lot? unsure if im saying that right but trying not to repeat myself on what ive said for other cantos so there. like... it was getting manipulated, knowing youre getting manipulated but still kind of falling for it anyway because okay what can you do, but then getting out of it by doing something that person didnt expect. it was hatred obsession a desire for revenge that twisted from instead of being a tale of someone taking revenge that'll likely only leave them hollow in the end, to no longer let ahab control her basically. it was a big middle finger

canto 6 was... tragic. all these thoughts of how its gonna go and all of them were wrong. mostly. im sure its meant to be like in the same headspace as heathcliff. like oh yeah we're gonna get him all dressed up and meet cathy and then shes dead. shes already gone. before i started i listened to a bunch of the limbus company mili songs and would cautiously look at the comment section to tell which sinner and which canto it was probably for so i knew this was about heathcliff and a cathy. and i thought that oh he and cathy are fighting and shes like 'you have to let me go heathcliff' but it wasnt really that? it was.. just so sad that maybe they couldve had something, maybe, if they'd spoken more, if they'd been more honest- its all what ifs. and then all the cathys were deleted. makes me wonder if that one where heathcliff and cathy were happy together, if that heathcliff's catherine also got lost, or if 'every cathy' applied to every cathy with a bad ending + our heathcliff's catherine. i wonder. and i wonder too how heathcliff could even get catherine back, if in the end its all futile because shes dead she cant come back, but i would also like to hope that somehow, he'll find her. with a better understanding of her than ever, that their hearts are united and not letting any dark thoughts cloud his mind and make him unable to see whats in front of him. i hope.

canto 7. god i love canto 7. this is getting way too long so i dont want to elaborate too much now but sancho being like didnt you always tell me to stop dreaming (i forgot the quote, my minds stuck on 'the dream ending'), and like well yeah, waves hand at power of friendship which i feel doesnt fully encapsulate what really happened there but im summarizing. and like just. it was beautiful, and sad. her repeating his introduction while he mightve already died but shes saying it anyway and telling him and and that she was blessed with a family of twelve and and... and i dont have the words to describe it man im gonna cry thinking about it again

canto 8 though. might just be my favorite. theyve all made me feel things, but canto 8 is one i can find myself really relating with and thus find the message ever more powerful and ever more beautiful.

haha i said i was gonna end it and then i kept yapping so um whoops

but man do i love this game.

also forgor to look at this but the singular ex i missed 💀 (i already converted my enkephalin into modules already so whoops)

also oh my god i took so long writing this the announcement for the latter half of the roadmap livestream happened LMAO (LETS GO walpurgis hopefully 🙏 i may not need dawn office sinclair anymore but man i wanna see what i get)

[smusherina]

bridges burnt - chapter 1 [epilogue series] (regina george x reader)

fandom: Mean Girls (all media)

pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader

summary: When an invitation to Gretchen Wieners' wedding ended up in your mailbox, you'd been sure it was a mistake. Only, it read your name in neat, swoopy calligraphy. It was addressed to you. And Regina George, whom you hadn't spoken to in years.

additional clarification: This is set in the universe of yard work, a series of mine that can be found on my page! Reading this one might be a bit challenging without the context of the series :)

very necessary note: Okay, fuck, it was supposed to be a one shot. Then I got excited. So have another freakin' Regina George series. Set in the same universe as yard work! Reading that provides some essential context, but you do you! I don't think it's unreadable without it. chapter 2

You adjusted your tie for perhaps the millionth time. It was a silky blue, befitting your navy suit. You fiddled with your cufflinks, silver like all your accessories, then pulled out the baby blue handkerchief to wipe down your glasses, then folded it pack into your pocket, then bent to redo your laces, then-

"For fuck's sake, the ceremony hasn't even started yet!" Amanda nudged you violently.

"Ow!" You hissed, elbowing her back. She slapped your knee, hard.

"Get yourself together." She glowered, pointing a manicured finger at your nose. "It's worse enough I have to be here at all. You're not gonna ruin this for me."

"You're here for the open bar and free food. I paid for the flights, the room, the car." You bit back. "I'm allowed to be nervous."

"There's nervous, then there's this." Amanda looked you up and down pointedly, noting your bouncing knee.

You squeezed at said knee, trying to calm down. Like you'd been trying to do since hours ago. No results so far.

"Look, buddy, it's just a wedding. You don't even really know her. I get you... Have a history with the bride, or whatever, but it's gonna be so fine."

"It's not Gretchen I'm worried about." You mumbled.

"Whoever. It's gonna be fine." Amanda said, flippant as ever. How she was so carefree all the time was mind-boggling to you.

"This place is filled with people from high school. God." You looked around. "That guy over there, don't look, with the receding hairline- I said don't look!"

"Be more specific, every man here has a receding hairline. The demographic is excruciatingly pallid."

"Shut up, girl," You shook your head but couldn't help but laugh. It was mostly white people here. "The one with the wife that looks exactly like him, unbelievably blonde, kinda mousy," You waited for her eyes to latch onto the man you were talking about. "He used to buy weed from me, like, every week, and then went around spreading rumours about me."

"Ungrateful." Amanda scoffed. "And look at him, a wife, child, and probably a 401k. That's how it goes for boys like them."

"Yeah." You sighed. "How's the salon doing, by the way?"

"Thriving. Thanks to you. But I worked my ass off." You lifted your arms in surrender. She had worked hard to keep the place afloat for as long as she had, so even if you hadn't invested she would've found a way.

Amanda cast you a meaningful look. "You're doing better than ever, aren't you? Financially speaking. How's everything else?"

"Well, y'know..." You shrugged. "It's complicated." You looked down. Amanda patted your knee, a sympathetic smile on her face.

"You got a nice suit, though." She pointed out.

"Oh, for sure. Look at these, custom cufflinks." You showed off the silver bits. "Do you think these rings are too much?"

"Don't you usually have an ungodly amount of them on?"

"I usually just have these three." On your right pinky was your Engineer's Ring. On your left thumb was an embroidered steel band and on the pointer of that same hand a ring with a big emerald embedded in a bed of crystals.

"It's not too much." Amanda took your hand and inspected the rings. "More like sexy." She grinned at you, all sorts of innuendo right on display.

You scoffed and turned towards the altar. The pews were getting fuller by the minute. You were sitting far enough from the front to show you weren't important but not too far as to hint you didn't want to be there. You were on the bride's side, though it didn't matter much. You didn't know Gretchen any better than her husband-to-be.

Amanda had come with you for moral support. You'd been roommates in college and you hadn't been able to shake her off since. She'd grown on you, though you often acted more begrudged than you felt. She'd helped you out a lot over the years.

She'd been there when you couldn't leave the dorms, trapped in the vicious clutches of paranoia. She'd been there helping you get back on your feet when dad's businesses started going, one by one, each more explosive than the last. She was there when you moved back to that little town in Illinois, where Northshore still stood.

You liked to think you'd been equally as integral to her, but that was perhaps a reach. She was fiercely independent, resourceful, and charming enough to make friends with anyone. When the first chance to help her came, you didn't hesitate to take it. She'd opened up her salon right after graduation, staying in New York while you moved back home, and had been doing well until now. Unexpected costs and a wicked plumbing bill had landed her in some hot water.

For the small price of one favour and eternal bragging rights, you'd shoved your newly acquired wealth at her. Dragging her to Vermont in October to attend Gretchen's wedding was you cashing in on that favour.

Eventually, the proceedings began. The groom and his men walked in with little fanfare, mild music playing as they went. Most faces you did not recognize, but there was one back of the head that seemed eerily familiar.

The groom, a classically handsome man, a boring prince type, went to stand at the altar. He had an expectant glimmer in his eye. At least Gretchen's taste in men had improved. Then again, anything beat the scrubs she'd used to keep around.

Behind the groom, his line of groomsmen settled, the best man fronting the crowd. The man of the hour was in a classic black tux while the others flanking him were dressed in different shades of brown. The whole shebang was sort of beige with a little bit of burnt orange thrown in. Amidst the shades of umber, russet, and sepia, stood a familiar face.

Aaron Samuels. You didn't have much time to agonize about him being here before the bridesmaids were stepping through the aisle. Similar dresses but in lighter shades, clearly made to match a certain groomsman. You didn't recognize any of them.

The maid of honour was a little odd. Her makeup seemed to be a lot thicker on one side, like there were several layers of foundation caked on. Her eye makeup on that side was a little heavy also, but she was past you by the time you could wonder why.

"The maid of honour totally has a black eye," Amanda whispered to you.

"No way," You hissed back, trying to get an angle where you could see her face. As she settled in place, facing the pews, even moderately far away you could see that, yeah, she totally was covering up a black eye. Wild bachelorette party, then.

Coos and aws resounded through the church as the flower girl and the ring bearer came toddling down. A little girl, cheeks all red, and looking like she wanted to be anywhere else, and a slightly older boy with an almost manic look in his eye. The girl was in no mood to be tossing petals, so the boy reached into her basket and threw a big fistful of them in the air. The rings rolled off of their pillow but found their way back.

"Oops," The boy said, smiling sheepishly right as the photographer came in to capture the moment. Chuckles echoed through the space.

By the time they reached the end of the aisle, the little girl was dutifully carrying the pillow on which the rings were and the boy was joyously tossing flower petals everywhere. As god intended.

Then came the bride. Escorted by her father, who was beaming with a mouth full of veneers, Gretchen Wieners made her appearance.

It wasn't disappointment that you felt. Not relief, either. It was hard to describe. You'd been expecting anger or some catharsis. This was the person who'd outed you to your whole school, who'd been the catalyst to the worst year of your life, why didn't you feel more?

High school had been over for almost ten years. You carried scars, deep ones that still ached on bad days but at the end of the day, they were just scars. You were doing better than ever. Gretchen had been a bully, had brought you to ruin once upon a time, but who was to say it couldn't all be built again?

You smiled. She looked beautiful. A white dress, a long veil, hair done big, bigger and more grandiose than you'd ever seen, and looking like, well, a bride.

You'd moved on. Considering how she'd invited you too, and knowing Gretchen she was acutely aware of every person in attendance, she had moved on too. You could recognize an olive branch when one was given to you.

That didn't explain the invitation, though. Maybe it was a mistake. Gretchen wasn't known for making those, but she was human too. Right?

"Look, they're totally enthralled by each other. You're gonna be fine." Amanda whispered, ignoring the elderly lady seated next to her shooting daggers through her eyes at you two.

"Yeah. It's gonna be fine."

Notes: Got really ill at the beginning of this week, which delayed this chapter quite a bit. You don't realize quite how awesome breathing is until you can't do it properly. Getting better slowly, it's nothing serious, but the cough is lingering. It is what it is.

This chapter was mostly setting up the narrative, no Reggie and Jorts interactions as of yet. I'm not making any promises because I'm so shit at keeping them, but hoping that this series will be shorter than the original one.

Taglist posted seperately!

[millieisawriter]

Church at midnight

¿platonic? arthur morgan x swanson!reader

summary: the reverend's daughter worries about the worsening health of the man she has a crush on. she follows him one night, but she's never expected to see the outlaw step a foot in a church.

wc: 2.3k

all pics from pinterest

a/n: why tf did i work on it for 2 or 3 weekends and it's still mid. but i wanna post anything at this point cus the lack of creative work on my blog is criminal

For a reverend’s daughter you weren't a picture perfect preacher’s daughter. But also for a reverend, your father didn’t really live how a holy man should. His morphine usage and alcohol addiction weren’t exactly vices a man of God should possess, especially one who has a child to take care of. Before that, though, he was a good parent, even without your mother in the picture. Once he fell into this vicious cycle, everything went only downhill and you were sure if it weren’t for Dutch and the gang, you wouldn’t have been alive.

Why exactly were you a firecracker? Well, it took a lot to keep you off a horse’s back. At some point the gang had stopped bothering to stop you from climbing onto a horse and riding off for a while. The older you got, the longer you’d stay out of camp. Even if you didn’t wander too far away, you liked the quietness, not having to listen to Grimshaw and her constant nagging. However with being a woman alone in the wild sometimes came dangers, that was when you had to know how to use a gun.

There wasn’t a better person to learn handling a gun from than Arthur Morgan. Undeniably, he was the best shot in the gang, and he agreed to teach you when you asked. Without any hesitation too, because he knew you’d figure it out one way or another. And he preferred to have you learn from him, than alone and perhaps end up with a bullet in your foot or something.

That was when it all started–your crush on him. Oh, you fancied Arthur Morgan badly ever since he started giving you those shooting lessons. Ever since he stood behind you, his hands on your arms, securing a perfect shot. Back then you kept your feelings to yourself, knowing you were probably too young for him. But now? Now you were a woman in your early twenties, who really hoped the age difference wouldn't be an obstacle anymore.

Shyness wasn’t ever a trait you possessed. If you wanted to survive in this world, you simply couldn’t be shy. And so you weren’t, in any part of life. Not shy to stand your ground when you were out with a gang and a man twice your size had a problem. Not shy to slightly suggest another man twice your size that it’s okay if he makes a move on you. Since you couldn’t just jump onto him like a woman mad in love, you sent him more or less subtle signals. You wondered, didn’t he see them, or did he refuse to see them?

You definitely could handle a gun, which also included maintaining it. However, you liked to batter your lashes at Arthur, asking him for help with cleaning. You knew a way to a man’s heart is through asking little favors from him, and you weren’t afraid to use that knowledge. But you didn’t just take from him, no, you offered as well. When you and the girls were out in town, you’d buy an additional chocolate bar, or a tin with biscuits. Yes, they weren’t for you–they were for him.

Often you’d reject men who tried to sweet-talk you. Whether it be out in down or in camp and Arthur happened to be nearby, you rejected the interested man loud enough for Arthur to hear. And there were quite a few opportunities for that in camp–Sean was never subtle with his advances. You didn’t even know if he actually liked you, or it was the alcohol talking, but you’d always tell him, “You’re too young for me, MacGuire,” knowing damn well he was a few years older. Not drastically, like two or three, just a healthy gap. But you weren’t after that.

One warm evening you even sat down so close to Arthur, close enough for it to feel electric, but not close enough to touch. It was getting dark, you two were sitting alone by the scout fire. There was no one else to bother you.

“I wanted to thank you,” you said, thinking about another favor Arthur has done for you. One you actually cried to him about earlier that day. “Thank you for helping me get my godforsaken father back to camp… again.”

Arthur then gave you his usual “I’m just doing what’s right, miss.”

“You always say that, Arthur.”

“Because it’s always true.”

Then, you sat in silence. You couldn’t tell if it was the comfortable kind or not. For you, it didn’t feel wrong. But as you looked at Arthur, and he kept his eyes focused on the flames in front, you felt like he’s trying to say something.

You hoped he’ll finally say something. Something about the signals you’ve been giving him. He wasn’t good with voicing out his feelings, but you hoped this was the moment. Truly, it would’ve been perfect as it was just the two of you, under the starry night sky. And then he spoke, but it wasn’t going to go the way you wanted.

“I know what you’ve been doing,” he finally spoke. “All them looks. The gifts. Turnin’ down fellas with me around. Sittin’ so close.”

You felt your cheeks heat up, the idea of all your actions finally coming to fruition making your heart want to jump out of your chest. “You noticed?”

“Of course I did.” He paused. “But that don’t mean I should pretend it’s alright.”

Your smile faltered. “But, Arthur, it is alright. I’m not a child.”

“Yeah, you’re not,” he nodded. Then, he went silent for a moment. Thinking about it, as if right in that moment he realized what these words meant. You weren’t a child, not anymore. You were a woman, who clearly cared about him. “But you’re still younger. You deserve someone who can give you a future.”

“A future?” You scoffed. Future wasn’t something you thought about often. There could’ve been no future and you didn’t care much. You’ve learnt to not take the future for granted. “In a world where I have to worry if I’ll be alive tomorrow there’s no future.”

“Exactly. You need someone to take you out of this life. And that ain’t me. Not because I don’t want to, but because I’m unable to.”

You smiled, as if he had just admitted his own defeat. “But you want to. You’ve just said it.”

“I want a lot of things I can’t have. And sure as hell can’t have you.”

That was stupid. That was inappropriate. He immediately regretted saying these words. He never meant to give you hope, but it seemed he just did.

“Arthur—”

He stood up. “Forget it,” he turned around, but before he walked away he added one thing. “Find someone your age and someday, this gang’ll be a memory and you’ll be somewhere quiet. Somewhere safe. And you’ll look back at this and thank me.”

In the following days you didn’t bring it up again. No more subtle flirting, no more hinting glances. You barely even talked to Arthur. He barely spent time in the camp anyway, even less after the gang had moved to Shady Belle. In the past few weeks everything had been going downhill, and the further south you went, the more sure you were of an impending doom.

And for Arthur something shifted too. He had been quiet, brooding, independent. Now he had become distant. Not just to you, as that would’ve been at least easy to explain to yourself. He distanced himself from basically everyone in the gang. Rode out alone more often, slept less, coughed more. You weren’t stupid, you knew that kind of cough.

And then one night you decided to follow him. It was almost midnight, he had no business saddling up his horse and riding out at that hour. There must have been a reason he didn’t want to be seen. And you were on a mission to find out what it was about.

Growing up with a gang of thieves and robbers taught you one thing for sure. And that was how to spy on someone without being seen. Your horse moved nearly soundlessly as you rode behind Arthur. Far enough for him to not realize he’s being followed, and close enough to not lose him.

Following Arthur led you to Saint Denis, which wasn’t too far. You thanked God, even though recently you started questioning your faith in him, because at night the streets weren’t as crowded. Maneuvering through all the people while spying on Arthur would’ve been a nightmare.

Confusion slightly fogged your mind when you saw Arthur hitch his horse outside a church. Even if you hadn’t been to this part of Saint Denis before, it didn’t take you much time to figure out it was clearly a catholic church. It looked way different to what you had been used to, as a protestant preacher’s daughter. But you never thought Arthur was religious.

You sneaked inside after him, again without making a sound even as you opened the massive door. For a moment you let him pray in peace, whatever prayer meant to him. You watched him take a seat in one of the pews in the front. It was just the two of you there, and yet he didn’t speak. He talked to whatever God he hoped was listening in his thoughts.

After a moment, you eventually revealed your presence to Arthur, taking a seat next to him. He didn’t even flinch. Maybe he had heard you, after all, somewhere along the way. Maybe you weren’t as sneaky as you thought you were. Or maybe he knew you better than you knew yourself.

“What are you doing, Arthur?” You asked.

He should be the one asking you that question, but he didn’t point it out. He didn’t answer at all, actually. Once again you were met with silence on his side.

He stayed silent because he was figuring out a storm in his head. An argument with himself. Whether he should let you in on a secret, or not. He had not told anyone yet, you’d be the first, and he trusted you. You never gave him a reason not to.

He finally decided to speak. “I’m dying.”

Somehow, you weren’t surprised. Your intuition felt it, like a wild animal can feel rain coming. So all you asked was, “How long?”

He shrugged, as if trying to pretend it didn’t matter. “Months, maybe weeks. Ain’t got long.”

“Are you scared?”

Of course he was, who wouldn’t be? Living while knowing death is soon. In his life Arthur had been close to death many times. It took people he loved, people he cared about. He looked death in the eye many times. He caused many deaths, too. But now it felt too real. Now death was coming for him, and there was no way to stop it.

“I reckon I am.” He admitted probably the first time out loud.

“If that makes you feel any better, I don’t think there’s Heaven. Nor Hell. For what it’s worth, I don’t think God exists.”

These certainly weren’t words Arthur expected to hear from you. You were Swanson’s daughter. Your father never abandoned his faith, not even now. Not even when deep into his vices. And there you were, admitting your doubts.

“I thought you’d say the opposite,” Arthur said. Then, he let out a sound that resembled a chuckle. “You being Swanson’s daughter and all.”

“My father didn’t raise me, the gang did. I got tired of praying to something that never answered back. You don’t even know how many times I’ve prayed to help my father. What could a child have done to deserve a father like him? If God existed, He would’ve listened.”

Arthur could’ve said ‘I’m sorry’, but what for? So instead he said, “I guess we both got our reasons to doubt. If there’s no Heaven or Hell, what do you think is there after death?”

“I don’t know,” you didn’t hesitate to admit. “But I’m curious to find out. If that makes you feel better, I’m partly jealous you might find that out soon,” you joked, nudging Arthur.

That put a smile on Arthur’s face. “You’ve always been a strange one.”

“You’re the one sneaking into a church at midnight.”

A small huff of laughter echoed through the church, eventually fading into silence. It was strange, sitting there with Arthur. Sure, you would have liked to be in front of an altar with him, but under different circumstances. You looked down at your hands in your lap, scolding yourself as if he could hear your thoughts. That was so stupid. The man had just confessed to you he was dying.

“You’re not gonna die, Arthur,” you stated as if that was some knowledge revealed to you in some godlike way.

He asked, “And how would you know that?”

You laughed, “Because I’ve just had an epiphany. Divine knowledge from the Holy Blessed Virgin herself. We’re in a church, after all, and I’m a holy man’s offspring.”

Arthur echoed your laughter. “And what did she say?”

“She said God doesn’t take men like you so easily.”

He didn’t reply right away. His smile disappeared as quickly as it had appeared on his face. This wasn’t something he could believe. He wanted to believe he’ll be alright, even if just for you. Even if you were the only person that cared what happened to him. Even if nobody else knew, because he didn’t want them to know.

Then he sighed and said with an undeniable finality, “I’ll be the first to prove her wrong.”

You knew that too. You wanted to keep making new excuses for why he wasn’t going to die, but you felt out of options now. You’ve used up all the things you could say. You admitted, “Well, I don’t know what to say to that.”

“Don’t say anything, then. Just pray with me, will you?”

And you did. Both of you kneeled and went silent in your own prayers that had the same goal. How ridiculous it was. A protestant woman and a man without religion praying in a catholic church for death to not hurry.

[fuckitpossumorb]

New sdr episodes done ✨❤️ and I have so many thoughts!!! Spoilers below people <33

First off Ko is such a massive dumbass through this whole two episodes ans I LOVE her for it, she’s a big dumbass but tries to do good over it all, she’s just so EXTRA on everything. She feels so much all the time about everything and it’s great!! I love Ko oh god I love her so much.

2. WE WERE SO CLOSE TO A HONEYPOT SQUEME PEOPLE SO CLOSE!!! it was even Ziggy who suggested it!! I feel insane!!!!!

3. Welcome back Rex Maxim, diva extraordinaire. I thought he was a massive diva on overture oh baby that was NOTHING! THAT WAS DRAG!! Also washed out celebrity is pretty much what he was doing in Overture only that slightly less desperate.

Can’t wait to see Rett and Pyke struggle and generally let out waves of hate in his vicinity in the next eps, when they find out the blackmail and Pyke finally experiences joy after many years is peak comedy, I strive to be as petty as this man.

4. Speaking of Pyke he’s a liar!!! HELL YEAH! For a second I thought he was going to try and impersonate Rex but hell yeah, he totally used to do this type of shit when he was working alone.

Better enough Rett says something like “making up stories, being someone he’s not, this is what he’s good at” about Pyke to Ko. That’s a hell of a quote. Either Pyke was a spy at some point or there’s something deeply wrong with him.

5. PIXEL POP!! PIXEL POP oh how I love thee, I was not sold on her character at the start but the more time we got to spend with her, the little morsels of worldbuilding and how she’s connected with it, and then she killed a man!!! Way to go PIXIE!! Also props to mace for acting his ass out on that scene I could’ve sworn he was actually dying.

Rett’s over here collecting children like they’re Pokémon cards I love that for him.

Her relationship with Ko and Ziggy was great, how she interacted with Rett and Pyke when the ruse was down felt so much more natural! She’s an amazing addition also hi Nikkie hi. I think her and Ko should kiss anyways,,,,

6. Space vampires? Space vampires. Space vampires that feed on your soul!!! Hell yeah. That’s metal as hell. The way Mace described all of it was very fun, also Pyke seems to know something about this? About the silent and the harmony I’m interested

Also that scene where Pyke calls out to the crew “They’re the silent” and everyone goes “what?” Is amazing. Peak comedy.

I wonder if anyone will bring it up again, like I would live to see Pyke trying to explain to Pixel this whole soul/harmony thing. When Rett tries to explain it to Ko and says that’s what they explained to him does he mean the corp he worked for before? Or Pyke himself? Pyke’s connection to the stars in overture was very fun to think about I wonder if it translated to this at all.

7. Ziggy they could never make me hate you, also the fucking curveball with the bugs on Pixel’s things this man is a fucking madlad I love him

8. The last part, the ex-girlfriend plot line! I’m invested, and a little confused. Did she maybe die in whatever experience Pyke had with someone like the vice-roy before? Did she betray him and he faked his death? Or did she just leave him?

A part of me is sure it’s a girlfriend and a part of me thinks it could maybe be Dandy. Idk I’m just wondering how she could tie up in this new universe, I mean she’s not dead, but she isn’t around.

Why do I think it could be Dandy? Because of two lines, one Pyke says that is “she went through a phase” and another that Ko says which is “she was just a coworker”.

The first one still works with the girlfriend but because he could mean that there was a time she was really into clubbing, but it could also mean she had a phase were she wanted to be a dancer/pop star and that would’ve been the scene she would be into which to me sounds more paternal idk?

Ko’s like also works with both scenarios, it could imply that they weren’t even partners at all and Pyke is just hung up on a crush, or trying to minimize her relationship with Pyke to make him feel better OR it could mean that Pyke only ever described her as a “coworker” to Ko and she just assumed it was a romantic sort of relationship when it could be diferent.

Anyways,,,, that’s all I have to say for now. Stay tuned for more of my bullshit.

[dark-frosted-heart]

Roger Barel Main Route - Chapter 7

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this. I’m doing this for archiving purposes and you can probably find a better translation out there.

Roger and I headed to our mission destination by train.

(We’re runaway lovers that wound up at the village after having nowhere to go)

…That’s what Victor’s having us pretend to be to hide our identities.

--

Roger: Because everyone in this village welcomed us so warmly, I was able to save my beloved girlfriend from starvation.

(What’s with the sudden change in speech and refreshing smile? Who are you?)*

Though relieved that we safely made our way into the village, I was thrown off by Roger’s sudden transformation.

Roger: Kate, we will happily settle in this village.

Kate: Y-yes. Let’s be happy here, R-Roger.

Roger kissed my cheek, making my fake smile even more awkward.

However, Roger’s convincing performance was a success and the villagers welcomed us with open arms, serving us welcoming meals one after another.

Woman of the village: You must have been nervous. You’ll stay safe in this village because our Spirit God gives protection to everything.

Man of the village: Ah, indeed! Those who believe in the Spirit God will be saved as he is the one who can ward off any disease.

Spirit God: …

The villagers beamed at a man sitting in the middle of the room who hadn’t said a word since we arrived.

(...This is the Spirit God)

(He looks around 50 years old? And looks like your average human)

However, as Fairytale Keeper who’s witnessed evil up close, I now understood.

A human’s outward appearance belied evil that dwelled in their heart.

(Even so, it seemed like stories of “disease being warded off” in this village were widely accepted)

(A mere human couldn’t possibly ward off disease. There had to be some kind of trick—)

Kate: Hm?

I felt a tug on my skirt and turned to see a little girl that looked around five years old standing there with a smile.

Blonde child: Is id nummy?

(Huh…her speech…? Maybe it’s because she’s still young?)

Kate: Yeah, it’s really delicious. Thank you.

When I thanked her, the girl smiled back happily.

This village was very peaceful and full of smiles.

It felt like a utopia where all things scary were removed.

—Unfortunately, there was no such thing in this world.

(Something’s up with this village)

--

Sometime after being welcomed by everyone, Roger and I finally found ourselves alone.

Roger: This village’s so fishy it’s laughable.

Kate: Yeah, I thought so too. This village…there’s something going on.

The Spirit God’s existence, in addition to some other sense of discomfort that I couldn’t put a name to.

Roger: Let’s hear your point of view first, lil’ lady.

Kate: If what Victor said about an undercover police being killed was true, Then the villagers wouldn’t be as welcoming to newcomers. It wouldn’t have been strange for them to turn us away. But they were all so friendly. While I don’t want to question their generosity, I think…we should keep our guard up.

(Maybe there was something hiding behind all those smiles…)

Roger: Yeah, I was thinking the same. What about you, Liam?

Kate: Huh, Liam?

(That’s right, Liam went ahead of us to gather intelligence…)

I looked around but didn’t see him anywhere.

Kate: Liam, are you hurt or anything? Hungry?  

When I called out to the room, only my voice echoed.

Liam’s voice: Hehe, I’m not hungry or hurt. Also, I’m on the other side.

Kate: Ah, sorry. Huh, how did you know where he was, Roger?

Roger: My ears picked up his heartbeat and presence. So disappearing on me’s useless.

Liam: My power and Roger’s aren’t compatible at all. Let’s move somewhere else.

With Liam concealing the sound of his footsteps, I was completely at a loss.

I followed Roger out to a place a little ways away from the villager’s homes.

The moment we stopped, Liam appeared out of nowhere like magic.

(The power to disappear’s amazing)

Liam: I’ll tell you guys everything I’ve learned about the village in the past few days. In short, this village…or rather, the Spirit God, is bad.

Kate: I thought so. How is he warding off diseases?

The most important thing was the trick that got the villagers to believe in him.

Liam: The trick’s simple. He’s not warding them off, just giving them to non-believers.

(No way…)

Liam: The Spirit God poisons anyone that doesn’t worship him or doubts him. Unaware of this trick, the villagers are deluded into thinking they’re being protected from disease. Hey Roger, have you heard of Gracefield Royal Hospital? The man they call the Spirit God used to be a doctor there.

(Gracefield Royal Hospital…?)

Roger: The hospital’s been around for a while. There’s a lot of brilliant doctors, but a high turnover rate. Useless doctors were shunned and fired.

Kate: You’re pretty knowledgable.

Roger: They left a long time ago and opened their own private practice, but my old man and his “cherished friend” used to be doctors there.

(A cherished friend…)

There was some warmth in Roger’s voice when he said that.

Roger: With this, all that’s left is getting physical evidence…

Liam: Ah, I also found a medicine cabinet. Roger can tell which one’s poison.

Roger: As expected from our cat. Nice job, Liam.

Liam: I’m glad everything went smoothly.

At that moment, Roger’s eyebrows shot up.

Liam: …Hm, what’s wrong Roger?

Roger: …

His eyes peered into the darkness.

Roger: …I can “hear” people coming from all sides.

Kate: Huh?

Roger: Yeah, there’s quite a few people. Is that how the villagers assemble?

Kate: Are we surrounded?!

Roger: Haha, looks like it. Well, we’ll just have to settle this fast.

Apparently Roger intended to take them head-on.

Liam: Yeah, it’ll be fine. Doesn’t matter how many come at us, we won’t lose.

(Liam too!)

Kate: The entire village has roughly 200 people.

Roger: We can take 100 each.

Kate: Are you insane?!

As we continued bickering, I heard footsteps approaching— 

A candle flames floated in the darkness.

Roger: Here they come.

Man of the village: …I knew you were a threat to our village.

Woman of the village: And they have a friend too. Disgusting, how did he even get in.

Liam: I’ve been here the whole time.

(It was as if the peaceful atmosphere they had greeted us with was all a lie)

The villagers’ eyes were cold and I sensed that they were willing to do anything to eliminate any foreign entities within their sandbox.

They were like mindless puppets controlled by the “Spirit God”.

Man of the village: Spirit God, what should we do with them?

Spirit God: Seize them. I will use my abilities to punish traitors.

Roger sneered at those words.

Roger: Ability, huh? If you were a Cursed One, I’d keep you alive as another on my list of precious test subjects… Too bad you’re not. Liam, go nuts. We’ll capture him.

Liam: …Roger that**

As Liam was about to pounce, daggers gleaming in hand—

A scream erupted in the crowd.

(What just happened?!)

When I realized that the girl lying beside the screaming woman was the little blonde girl who talked to me during dinner, I ran toward her.

Kate: Out of the way!

Woman of the village: What, don’t come any closer.

I was pushed back when I desperately tried to reach the girl lying in pain.

Kate: Now is not the time for this!

Woman of the village: If you hadn’t come here, none of this would’ve happened, you disease-carrying demons!

I saw her raise her hand and braced myself for a slap on the cheek.

(...)

Roger: Enough. We had nothing to do with the girl collapsing.

At the sound of his voice, I opened my eyes and saw Roger holding the woman’s wrist.

Thank you

Sorry for acting on impulse

Please help that girl +4 +4

Kate: Roger, please help that girl.

Roger: Yeah, leave her to me.

With Roger’s intimidating aura parted the crowd, allowing us to reach the girl.

Blonde child: …Ugh…

The girl’s body was stiff. Her eyes were wide open and her limbs were twitching. 

Kate: What do we do, Roger?

Roger: Based on her symptoms, it looks like tetanus. It’s a bacterial infection from a wound that affects the nerves. It makes it difficult to open your mouth, and eventually, it causes muscle spasms and paralysis.

Worst case, those infected will have a hard time breathing and die.

Kate: No way…

Roger: Anway, look for any wounds on the girl.

Roger and I examined the girl’s body and found a scratch on her calf.

Roger: …

Child’s mother: Spirit God! Please cure my child’s illness!

Spirit God: …

The man they called the Spirit God started backing away.

Child’s mother: …What’s wrong? Why aren’t you…

Roger: Relying on this guy’s not gonna do anything. He’s not some guy with special powers. He’s just a quack pretending to ward off disease by poisoning people.

Man of the village: That’s impossible! Our Spirit God’s a child of God granted with special powers!

Roger: Then why isn’t he saving this child in pain? Why didn’t you know she had tetanus until it got to this point? A false god can’t cure disease, but proper medicine can treat tetanus.

Spirit God: He’s lying! Tetanus cannot be treated!

At the Spirit God’s desperate cry, Roger looked at him with pity.

Roger: That’s ‘cause the medical knowledge in that brain of yours is outdated. There’s a treatment for tetanus. However, practical use is a miracle and there’s still some room for improvement.

(A treatment’s been discovered…)

Kate: Really, Roger?

Roger: Yeah. Though only the privileged class has access to it and it’s not available to the common citizen at all.

Spirit God: …Hahaha! If it’s not widely available, then it’s the same as saying she can’t be saved! Ah, that’s right. No one in this world can make diseases completely disappear. And yet, you all put your faith in me…It’s your fault for being foolish enough to put your trust in me.

Girl’s mother: …

With one hand, Roger grabbed the Spirit God by the neck.

Spirit God: Urk?!

As he tightened his grip, the Spirit God’s face began to turn red.

Roger: Did you never learn to let people finish talking while you were in your mama’s womb? Sure, treatment for tetanus isn’t widely available. But if you don’t have it, then you make it.

Spirit God: You can’t possibly…

Roger: As a former doctor, I can.

Next

-

*Here, Roger is speaking more politely and softens himself by using boku as his personal pronoun instead of his usual ore. Originally, Kate goes (Boku? [...]) but changes in JP pronouns don’t translate well in English.

**Ok this time didn’t resist using “roger” for 了解.

[tofumiarchives]

┊PASILYO┊˚✧

┊ONE SHOT┊DAZAI OSAMU X GN!READER┊

words: 1,941

unrequested

additional/warnings: ooc (?), cringe, nausea, mentions of throwing up (light), minor swearing typical Dazai suicide mentions (light), public display of affection, and uhh kising

Happy birthday to my glorious princess, y'all 🗣️‼️

Rays of sunshine outlined the furniture of the Armed Detective Agency. Dazai was at his desk, folding origami when he was supposed to be doing a report. It was one of those quieter days in the office, a rare day where there weren’t many cases to finish.

A buzz from his pocket. Dazai checked the notification, reading a message from none other than you.

|[Nickname]: sneak outside 🙏|

And they say he’s a bad influence…

———

Standing outside the building, you wait for him. It was the perfect weather, the sun decided to be warm—and not in the way where it’s painfully hot to the point that just a short walk would leave someone sweating.

“[Name]!” you easily spot the familiar caramel coat through the small crowd, Dazai happily escaping work to join you. “I got your message,” he remarked, walking until he’s right next to you.

“Happy birthday,”

A beautiful bouquet of flowers entered his field of view, forget-me-nots wrapped in a beautiful light blue. A silk white ribbon tied the thing together, a gift looking alike to the summer sky.

What’s next was a pretty sight, flushed cheeks and a surprised detective. Dazai couldn’t help but go speechless, not one to be used to affection. You almost wanted to tease him about it, but decided not to, showing a twinge of mercy upon the man.

“Hey… Earth to Osamu?” he snapped out of his daze, feeling you tug on his sleeve.

“Ah– uhm,” he makes a poor attempt to cover his embarrassing reaction, covering his face with a hand. It was fun to make him flustered, a feeling you rarely see him have. “Thank you…?”

You scoff at that dry reply, placing the bouquet on his hands before tugging his sleeve again, starting to pull him somewhere. “Come on, I’m spoiling you today, so we better start early if you wanna make the most of it.”

Dazai followed after you, letting you drag him on. It took a while, but he came back to his senses, a soft expression gracing his face at your words. “Really?” he asked, almost tauntingly as he tried to get a specific answer out from you.

“Yeah, yeah,” you answered, walking slower so that you’re side by side. “Whatever you want,” you say, looking at the pathway ahead as you barely conceal the smile on your lips.

“Whatever I want?” a cheeky grin. “Even a double suic–?”

“Anything but that,” you cut him off, turning your head just to see him laughing softly, slightly covering his face with the blue flowers.

The soft appearance of genuine happiness is a great look on your lover.

———

“Let’s try that one again!”

The sheer look of horror on your face was picture worthy. Dazai decided that the perfect way to spend his birthday was to try the roller coasters having motion sickness written all over it. “God, no.”

Sure, you did suggest going to the amusement park, but these aren’t the rides you expected to go to. Dazai was milking everything out of this opportunity, trying out every single attraction in the park but the calm ones.

How many times have you gone to the same roller coaster, now? Thrice? Four times? That drop still gets you. “How the fuck are you not even dizzy…?” you ask, sitting down on a bench to collect yourself

Dazai was laughing at your predicament, earning a glare from you. “Fine, fine, we’ll take a break from the rides,” finally some mercy on your nauseous self.

You sigh, before hunching over slowly, seeing black in the corners of your vision. “Fuck, I think I’m throwing up.” a pat on your back, but the brunet’s not very discreet giggles made it feel like it didn’t help at all.

Luckily, you didn’t start vomiting. You ended up buying him lunch despite his claims of not being hungry, making him sit down on a shaded table to eat. The park had a few food stalls around, so you two had plenty of choices to pick from.

His eyes scanned the selection of food stalls before his gaze landed on one. He perks up a little, tugging on your hand to get your attention. “Hey, let’s get takoyaki.”

You nodded, holding his hand as you went to the food stall, buying him the food he wanted before buying food for yourself. Dazai of course just had to steal your food, taking bits and bites here and there. You didn’t mind… mostly.

“... If you’re gonna end up eating my fries anyway, why didn’t you just buy some?” you ask, as he stole another bite with a shrug. You could only brush it off, wanting to get it over with so you could make most of your time here.

“Because stealing yours tastes better,” he replied, a terrible excuse. A mischievous glint can be seen shining in his brown eyes as his fingers stole another one, not even hiding it at this point now that you pointed it out.

You gave a sigh of defeat, letting him steal as much food as he desires. It was a quick snack break, before you two continued your little birthday celebration, so you just let it pass.

The sun was already shining right above you when you finally got back on your feet, fully recovered to try more attractions. His hand had found yours, as you looked for more things to try out. Dazai’s eyes found themselves following the path of the ferris wheel, the sight of it catching his eye.

Slow, scenic, peaceful—the complete opposite of the previous rides you two have gone on. A grin appeared on Dazai’s face, and he tugged on your hand, pulling you towards the entrance to the ride. “Let’s go on that one,” he says, a hint of eagerness in his voice.

You couldn't help but let out a breath of relief, seeing that he finally chose a calmer ride. The procedure to enter was short, buying a ticket, going in line, before entering the ride.

The gondola was simple, the sleek white car fitting the both of you on one side perfectly. It was slow and gentle, moving bit by bit as it got turned higher into the sky. “Much better than those adrenaline-fuelling ones, huh?” he mentioned, looking at you through his peripherals.

“Yes, actually. At least we can actually converse instead of screaming our lungs out,” you retort, turning from looking out the large windows to him, meeting his gaze with your own.

Dazai held in the laugh settling in his throat, shamelessly seeking your hand to hold again. He loved the contact. “You’re the one screaming out of fear, though,” he pointed out, pulling himself closer to you.

You roll your eyes, allowing him to be as close as he wants—as close as he needs. It took a while, but your capsule eventually reached the top of the circle, getting the highest view.

The brunet decided that you were a headrest at the moment, leaning his head on you before turning to the window on his side, slowly falling silent.

This was what you hoped you could distract him from. That faraway look was in his brown eyes as he looked at something long gone. It was another year. Another year without him, another year he'll slowly grow older than he could ever get.

Another year, and this time, he'll remember him longer than he's known him.

The view outside the windows was breathtakingly beautiful. Yokohama in clear view to both of you. From high-rising buildings to the crystal lake near the park, everything was graced with the warm afternoon light. Yet those brown eyes couldn't find the same warmth you could.

That solemn longing was a look you didn't want to see him make today. You wished his mind wouldn't have to think like this just for a day. Just for a moment. Just for now.

So, you nudge his leg with yours, earning his attention. “You wanna get crab later?” you ask when he turned to look at you, hands on his to hold. You'll distract him for as long as needed. You'll keep him away from those thoughts and bring the warmth he needed on a day he would otherwise hate.

Dazai turned around, snapping out of his train of thought at hearing your question. A smile stretched on his face, grip lightly tightening on your hand. “Of course the answer is yes,” he answered.

At least he doesn't look so solemn now. You subconsciously bring a hand up, brushing a strand of his dark brown hair behind his ear, your touch lingering for a moment longer than necessary. Way longer, actually.

“...touchy today, hm?” he teased, a cover up to him growing flustered under your affection. “What, can't keep your hands to yourself?”

“Don’t even start,” you reply with a threatening edge. Dazai raised his hand in surrender, keeping his silence with a cheeky smirk.

———

Crisp wind blew on your hair, you closed the door behind you in a rush. “Slow down, we just ran up a bunch of stairs–” you gasp out, out of breath as Dazai dragged you to a rooftop. The Agency building's rooftop.

The brunet only chuckled at your reaction, stopping to let you catch your breath. “Alright, alright! We're here anyway.”

You take a deep breath in, the air finally getting in your lungs properly. “We’re here early, you didn't have to– you did not have to drag me and run all the way up,” you groan, wheezing in suffering.

The sun was almost setting, hanging just above the horizon. You two wanted to catch the sunset, deciding that this is the best spot to watch as it settles down the city skyline.

Dazai held your hand, tugging you along to the edge of the building. “This would be a romantic time to die,” *he remarked, making you deadpan.

“Nuh uh,” you retorted, looking at his steps just a little more cautiously in case he decided to swan dive over the edge. “Would be a great time to watch the sunset though.”

As you said that, Dazai looked up, catching the way the skies were painted in pink and orange hues. It was an ethereal scene—one that should be painted to preserve.

You glance to the man beside you, seeing him gaze off into the sunset. It wasn't a lie that he was pretty, with how the sun outlined every feature on his face, basking him in a warm light.

“You’re staring,” he hummed, brown eyes glancing at you, already prepared to send a barrage of teases for catching you in the act.

Confessing you were was the only way out, then. You let out a scoff, the sound half a chuckle. “Yeah,” he turned to you, the sun leaving its last trails of warmth before letting the moon reign in the sky. “Happy birthday.”

Dazai smiled, a soft look on him. “Shouldn’t I get a present?” he asked, leaning towards you with a hint of what he wants. The brunet reached for your hand, pulling them to cup his cheeks.

A fleeting kiss, before another, dragging him closer to press your lips on his. You could feel how the warmth spreads to his face under your touch, feel how he smiles against each kiss.

You hear him giggle, leaning back just enough to speak, still holding his face. “More?”

“More,” he nodded, feeling giddy with each touch. Just for the moment, he felt that life was worth living. You pull him closer, resting your forehead on his.

“Whatever you want.”

divider credit: @/cafekitsune