#and me being made to mind the line at times as a communication student and a writer

[thewhizzyhead]

if I said eisa davis' influence in making lmm actually write something rather radically progressive has subsequently inspired me to return to my roots of actually fucking thinking of making radically progressive musicals after a 3-year long hiatus in doing so, then what-

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

🎉 Thank You for 10k+ Followers!! 🎉

A big thank you goes out to @cozymochi for this beautiful celebratory commissioned artwork for this major milestone ✨ It really captures the scope of all the content that had been put out in the last 4+ years—both in terms of official Twst materials and on this blog! I think it’s very fitting that we hit this milestone in the month of Halloween too (I just held off on posting this til the month after); it’s Twst’s biggest holiday of the year, so it’s twice the cause for celebration!!

A lot has happened over the course of my time in this fandom. I’ve written many things of course, but I’ve also had many other exciting opportunities! I’ve been interviewed for a paper, met many cool people from all over the world, attended Twst meetups + events, collaborated with other talented creators, received kind gifts, contributed to various fandom projects, and finished telling the origins of my Twst OC. This blog has been with me through a lot of major changes and difficult hurdles in my life too—it’s really been an anchor for me, a comforting and safe space for me to be creative or analytical whenever I want to be.

When I first started this blog as a very casual hobby in summer of 2020, I never even considered that it would balloon to this extent. It still doesn’t feel totally real to me 😭 I don’t usually fixate on numbers (they make me anxious), but looking back on it, 10k is a LOT, and 4 years is a long time. To put that in perspective, if we were in Twisted Wonderland for 4 years then all of the students we’ve come to know and love would have graduated by now. That’s crazy to me. We’ve come so far as a group.

I feel that a large part of fandom is the community that comes with it. I would have found it so challenging to stick with Twst had I not had so many great people keeping me engaged with it. I’d now like to take a moment to thank those folks. Keeping in line with the idea of “4 years”, think of these as little messages scrawled in a yearbook. I also have a blog event planned to celebrate! More on that later.

Please note that I’ve used pseudonyms for most of the following people, as I’d like to respect their privacy (I’m very private myself) + not all of them are comfortable with being explicitly named or tagged to a large crowd. You’ll know who you are if you see yourself on here.

Without further ado:

MSS — Thank you for being the first Twst space I felt truly a part of. It’s still the place I consider my fandom “home” beyond this blog.

April — Thank you for making MSS as a place for us to share! We’re tsunderes in solidarity.

Drinking Knight — The banners wouldn’t exist without your help. Thanks for getting the ball rolling on those; I’d like to think that I’m a little more confident in designing new ones myself now, but you were the start of it all. Your endless enthusiasm for the most insane otome boys, drinks, and bullying (positive) others is truly an inspiration.

Q. Opinionated — Can’t count the number of times you ran tech support for me 💀 Thanks so much for being patient and willing to laugh at a stupid situation. I WILL grip you (escape is not an option) 🤲

Dad with his Printer — Why are you so cheeky My unofficial proofreader and fact checker. Still treasure the teeny J word and coffin magnets you sent, and, even more valuable than those, the bad dad jokes/puns advice and wisdom you give. Wishing you luck on your art adventure.

A. Cider — An unexpected friend I met very late into the fandom and happened to run into irl by total coincidence. Funny how life works. Your shitposts are great, and I appreciate having a like-minded person to talk with about the J words and story critiques. I’d also like to thank you for the many little doodles you’ve made; I know you’re very busy and have a wife to tend to at home but I appreciate that you still make time for friends.

Hana — Extroverted pink-haired magical girl representation. Your bubbly love for Disney, Diasomnia, singing, and (yes) angst lights up the entire room. Maybe you’re not too confident with yourself are right now, but I know you’ll find your way.

Swan — For being quick on the uptake and giving me the heads up about various things! We may not talk much one-on-one, but I’m thinking of you and enjoy seeing you pitch into the conversation. You’re still banned for L*ona posting though/j

Ly — My secret French twin/j Thanks for being my cultural + equine advisor and a voice of (salty) reason. Never shut up about your hyperfixations! You’re a real one.

Oys — Enabler + encourager of my Yan!Sil delusions. Sorry for making your blood pressure spike every time we talk about our food takes. But hey, at least we get a good laugh out of it :))

Mac and Bean — For being my inspirations. Bean, you have such atmospheric writing. I hope my writing style can be just as magical as yours. Mac, it was your blog that first got me into starting my own Twst writing. You never stop being so, so funny also I blame you 120% for the L*ona rot.

Peaches and Cream — To my local Twst friends, thanks for keeping me company even through the hard times. Peaches, happy to be your local Twst dealer anytime. Cream, thanks for hooking me up with new books.

Salt and Flora — I don’t know where you vanished to, but the sea brought you back to me on its tides. I’m so happy we could meet again. Salt, you’re so talented at crochet and design work; get your coin 😂 Flora, you’re the sweetest person ever. Literally cottagecore personified, even in your art.

Piano — We don’t always see eye to eye, but thank you for being my serial debater and showing me new perspectives. Your open-minded theories and analyses are such fun. And, of course, it’s always hilarious to think about how we accidentally (?) swapped oshis 🤡 You’re a star.

The Anklebiter — For having the most unhinged jokes and ideas. Seriously, THE most unhinged. I never do any of the crazy things you suggest but I’m always really entertained from just hearing them.

Te, Mi, and Ro — Thanks for organizing local events and giving me an excuse to touch grass. It’s a lot of hard work and you guys manage to pull it off every time! Mi, I was flattered to have you reach out to me to help a little with the Tweel cupsleeve event. Happy to help anytime! Te, I remember you were cosplaying as Kalim when we first met and I kept thinking about how perfectly suited you are for the role. You were very friendly and made such an effort to include everyone in the event even when I was Idia-ing in the corner. To this day, you continue to spontaneously introduce me to new people 😂 Thanks for getting me put of my comfort zone. Ro, I didn’t think we’d meet again like this. Small world! You’re learning and improving the big events. Here’s hoping to many more!

Vic — For being Ace Trappola when very few others would. It’s refreshing to have someone tell it like it is. I wish I could be as bold and as honest as you are sometimes. You have such a big heart when it comes to the characters you love; it makes me want to adore them like you do too 🫶

Kana — For being so sweet and patient. You helped me through so many rough patches and have also contributed a lot to the look of the blog. It’s so fun gushing with you about magical girls and pretty boys, sharing our favorite shows and movies… I feel as though I’ve made a lifelong friend.

Zari — Thank you for charms and art book, big fan of your stuff 😭 So honored to have worked with you on projects too. I hope to see a lot more of your Yuu and other OCs around, I love following them ^^

Lala — You understand, encourage, and validate my weird tastes in fictional men 💕 Really admire your sense of fashion and stylish nails too. Whenever I have my shrimp apron on, I think of you.

Arisu — No longer in the Twst fandom but integral in the earliest days. Wherever you are now, I wish you nothing but happiness.

P-san — You’re a lifesaver!! Thank you so much for helping me find cute little outfits and accessories for my plushies… They are forever grateful to be properly clothed.

V, Fa, Fe, Ray, Rea, Sonny, Glimmer Group, and Incognito Crew — Thanks for being so supportive of my hyperfixation on Disney villain anime boys, even if you guys have NO clue what I’m rambling about half of the time. To V specifically 🫵 I am NOT a cat boy kisser

Mango — I didn’t know I wanted you in my life until you showed up uninvited one day and chewed your way into my heart.

Azul Ashengrotto — For being the character that first convinced me into giving this game a shot. The Little Mermaid was something I always held so dear to me, so it almost seems like destiny that you’d be the one to drag me down into Twst. You’ll always hold a special place in my heart for that, even if my feelings have changed since then.

Rook Hunt — For being there when I needed to laugh a little. It’s scary to glance over my shoulder sometimes, but you make it easier to smile as I look back.

Rollo Flamme — For letting me know that having negative feelings is normal and human, even if we don’t always cope with them in the healthiest of ways. Let’s reflect and be better together!

Leona Kingscholar — For showing me that change and personal growth is, in fact, possible. Th-This doesn’t mean I like you or anything though, so get off your high horse—

Jade Leech — For taking my hand and guiding me back on the path when I got lost in the dark. Whatever crimes you may commit in your free time, I forgive you/j

Miss Raven Crowley — The little black bird who could, the blog muse. I made you on a whim and look at where you are now… You went from a background character to the main character of your own story. So proud of you, my child 😭

Asset compilers, fan artists, fanfic writers, fan translators, cosplayers, merch makers, editors, plushie pic takers, video essayists, theorizers, etc. — You’re all so important to keeping the fandom alive, especially during periods of official content drought. It wouldn’t be feasible for me to list out all of the content creators I enjoy (chjsbsksks and it honestly might be awkward since I haven’t directly interacted with most of them), but I hope that this message still reaches you and finds you well. Keep doing your thing; I love seeing the work you put out ^^

Anyone and everyone that I’ve ever commissioned and/or received fan works from — I appreciate that you took time and energy out of your day to create something for me. There’s so much talent in the Twst fandom and I’m honored that you would dedicate some of that to a silly little birb.

You, the Readers — For supporting this blog and and what I do here! You’re an important part of my journey too.

Thank you!! Here’s to a future unknown and a page unwritten.

- The Writing Raven

[ang3lofdivinity]

❝𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐮𝐧❞

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

Relationship(s): Yan!Andy (Andrew) Graves x Fem!reader

Format: Headcanons + stories.

Genre: IMPLIED Smut + fluff + some angst(?)

Warnings: Consent mf, intimidation, SA from one of the wardens to the reader, masturbation (reader and Andy), Leyley isn't super overprotective, Reader is very naïve and too kind (they consider all friends), kidnapping, stalking, Andy is kinda turned on by the readers constant praise and nicknames for him, smoking, swearing, smut has been removed because.. the more I realize it I want this account to be decently fluff.

Andy is a very reserved person.

He's an introvert as per what his sister calls him.

And she's right.

He doesn't like being around others, he's pretty logical, he's also very calm.

But, what he doesn't know is how charming he is to others.

Hell, bunches of girls try and get with him, while Leyley obnoxiously tries to get rid of them all.

So, he's never really had a long term relationship with anyone aside his sister.

And over the years, he's managed to craft, a meticulously created one, a façade.

A mask he's worked on for years.

One that he knows will never crack.

But perhaps he got too confident.

Because when you came along, he was restraining himself practically from getting excited after the first time he saw you.

He saw you, being the new kid in class back when he was still in school at a young age before being trapped in that hellscape he called his home.

You were an extrovert it seemed, turning out to be the opposite. But, you still cared a lot about everything and everyone, you introduced yourself sweetly with something along the lines of..

"Good morning, I'm (____) (_____). If you need anything, I'll always be right here."

You were so calm, so pretty.. how could someone be so pretty?

You joined a bunch of after school activities, student council and such.

Although, you seemed a bit worried over something always every time he saw you.

He felt something within his stomach churn whenever he saw you though, not managing to gather enough courage to talk to you.

So, you had to initiate the contact.

You saw him, being all lonely..

That made you feel incredibly horrible, you were in that position yourself once too.

So, you approached him.

And his heart fluttered.

"Good evening.. you're Andrew Graves, right?" You inquired as you sat beside him at his lunch table as your friends immediately started whispering to each other.

"Oh- I- I'm Andrew Graves, yes.." he cringed at his own stuttering, but you didn't seem to mind.

"Why don't you come and sit at my table with my friends?" You invited him with a warm smile.

He felt butterflies in his stomach, a feeling he never had in a while..

"Are- you sure? They won't make fun of me?.." he asked, obviously worried.

"Of course not! If they do, we can have lunch together alone if you want!"

"..alright."

That was the day he became so clingy to you.

Usually, he's very cynical. But, for some reason with you.. he could feel that your actions were very genuine.

And that's what got him attached.

Along with your humor.

"I swear to fucking goddess if Miss Alta keeps telling me to not draw, I will—"

"Good morning, Miss Alta!" You exclaimed happily the moment your communications teacher stepped foot into the room.

He almost wheezed, letting out a giggle at his failed attempt to restrain himself. His expression turned into one filled with guilt and embarrassment, but before Miss Alta or any of the students spoke, you blurted out.

"Ah, Miss Alta, there's something wrong with the air conditioning. It keeps moving a bit and making that scraping noise." You semi-lied as you turned to Andrew and gave a more sincere smile before paying attention once more.

..you would just, lie for him like that..

Your smile could make him go crazy, it couldn't be compared to anything!! The way you cried, your tears streaming down your cheeks as you ran to him when you got hurt on the playground earlier- blue diamonds couldn't even compare to the richness of them, and the way you were very touchy..

You always held onto his hand, holding onto his shirt as you walked behind him anxiously, anytime when you got older and watched any horror movie and clang onto him.

That's when it all went to shit.

You had to leave the state.

THE STATE.

After you had just got settled after the last time where you moved here as a child!

He almost broke down, wanting to pour out all of his feelings as if it would change anything.

But it was official, and Leyley had him all to herself. It was like that for years.

He was all alone.

He felt empty.

He felt empty without you.

Like a part of his soul was torn from him.

And that stuck with him forever.

Some sort of dark, black tar over his heart made it feel disgusting and filthy.

But for the lonely part..

It wasn't like that for long.

When they grew older, he started dating someone after so long.

His (ex) girlfriend, Julia.

But eventually, that all ended when he got put into that quarantined building with Leyley.

She broke it off with him on one of those nights.

He sobbed about it, and Leyley didn't help.

But, that's when he got a strange phone call when Leyley was asleep and he was still up.

He was hesitant, but his gut told him to pick it up.

And that he did.

And that was one of the best decisions of his life.

"..Hello?" He spoke, his voice raspy. He was unsure of what telemarketer would be calling at this hour, and it couldn't possibly be someone he knew.

"Andrew?.. is this really you?!.."

That voice.. that voice instead changed his mind of this being some sort of telemarketer.. how? Because that’s your voice. After so many years, you had called him!

"..(____)?!" He yelped out, almost loud enough to wake LeyLey.

"Oh dear— I'm so glad I can hear your sweet voice again!!" You exclaimed, sounding like you were on the brink of tears.

All of those previous feelings he had for you back when you were still around, they all came back in a flurry, overwhelming him.

"(____), I'm.. how did you get this number?.." he wanted to ask you so much more, but that's all that came out at the moment.

"I heard about the quarantine you got into with your sister.. I'm so sorry. One of the wardens was kind enough to give me your number! I didn't have much time previously due to my work.. but, now I have and I'm so thankful!"

"..Good god it's so nice hearing your voice again, (____)" he mumbled, smiling as tears prickled at his eyes. There were so many words that wanted to spill out of his mouth, but nothing came out due to his own self restraint.

"I'm going to get you out of there! I promise! You and your sister!" You yelped out, happiness laced into your voice. You were zeal about this, you were going to get him and his sister out of here. Or at least try.

"Wait- aren't you worried about the wardens??? They've been keeping us here!" He responded back, biting on his thumb.

"Eh?? Nah! I'm sure! The warden seemed to like me, I'm sure I can persuade him somehow." For some reason, this didn't sit right with him..

"..." He went radio silent, this feeling akin to foreboding surging through him with the sense of anger as well. But, he swallowed down his frustration and took some deep breaths.

"Andy- Andrew?.. you there?" You tried to fix your mistake. You heard his sister call him by that nickname once- so you know it's at least somewhat gotta be sentimental for him.

"..you can call me Andy" he slowly spoke up.

"Are you sure?.."

"I'm.. sure. Call me Andy." It almost sounded like a demand..

"..Alright, Andy."

He doesn't even let his own sister call him that anymore, but he lets you do it with free reign.. strange.

"Now, would you like to talk for a bit?.. or should I get straight to work with the pla-"

"Talk!.. please. I just.. I missed you. I missed listening to your voice, I missed just being with you.." he blurted out, cutting you off. He put a hand over his mouth in response, his eyes wide and filled with shame.

"..."

"..."

"...."

"I'm sorry- that probably sounded weird.." he spoke up after a long moment of silence.

"Nono! Don't apologize, I missed hearing your voice too, hun." You spoke sweetly to him, a smile he couldn't see plastered on your face.

"..Hun?" Saying the word made him feel this warm, bubbling sensation within his chest. It made him want to indulge in it more..

"I'm not gonna use Andy all the time, darling!" You giggled happily, and that just made something within his stomach churn and twist.. something that has been dormant for years finally stir.

It made his knees go weak, his mouth go slightly agape as he failed to make any words come out of his mouth for a while until you spoke.

"..Andy? Honey?"

"Oh- sorry just.. deep in thought.”

"Ah, I get that.. well anyways, what would you like to talk about?"

You two talked until the sun finally rose and you got sleepy.

"Night Andy, Hun!" He could hear you yawn.

"Night, (____).."

He then placed the phone back down, hanging up shortly after you did as he found himself already yearning and missing your voice.

But, he knows.. better.

He just can’t help it though.

..No matter, he’ll hopefully be able to see you soon as you said.

That would be wrong though.

Because guess what? That warden that was so kind to you was only there for your looks. He wanted you to have some.. “personal time” with you if you get my gist.

“No fucking way you creep!!” You yelped out, this man was about twice your age and asking you to have some personal time with you.

“C’mon, sweetheart!.. I promise I’ll make it worth your while” The warden spoke, a sickening smile on his face.

“No means no, pervert!! Now, let me see my friends, let me get them out of here!” The warden groaned at your response.

“Alright, look here sweet-cheeks. You aren’t gonna be able to save your friends and I shouldn’t even be helping you. So, you either let me have you and you can take your friends, or I kill you right here and now” the man gave you an ultimatum, causing your eyes to widen.

“I..” You almost bursted out into tears when the man moved his hands to your shoulders, lowering your shirt.

“Lemme take care of ya.” he hummed, pushing you against the table within the break room, tears pooling down your cheeks.

You then tried focusing on something else, noticing the fact he had a ring of keys on his belt..

The warden had a hand glide up your thigh, massaging the bundle of nerves there. You tensed, straining back any noises that would come out of your mouth.

“No need to hold back, sweetheart..” he pressed himself closer to you, this was your time to strike!

You punched the man in the face, causing him to stumble back. You fixed your clothes, jumping off the table, you stared at the man who was waddling around like an idiot. A huff escaped past your lips as grabbed the nearest blunt object and flung it at the man. It was a simple lamp, but it hit him real good in the head. Honestly, you felt powerful in that moment, finding the courage to continuously punching the man, letting out every last string of anger that you felt. It was basically free therapy! And, when you were done, he was no longer moving. You grabbed the keys before you marched off, now off to find Andy and his sister, Ashley!

It took you a bit, but after knocking on a few doors, you heard nothing but some shuffling.

“Andy!! Its me! (____)!!” You yelped out, taking out the ring of keys as you fumbled with them in your hands.

“..(____)!? You actually came!?!” He spoke up after hearing your voice, immediately rushed over to the door as he heard you unlock it, opening it for you, taking you by surprise.

“Of course, hun! I never break a promise.” You spoke more dulcetly, a smile upon your face as you looked up at him.

He’s.. grown taller than you.

He spent no time dawdling as he hugged you, pressing you close to him as he twirled you around.

“I’m proud of you for waiting this long. So proud.” You praised, causing Andrew to become flustered as he desperately tried hiding it.

You paused for a moment before you started giggling a bit.

“What.. whats so funny??” He asked

“Nothing. Just reminiscing of the old times.”

“..you’re talking like a grandma.”

You bursted out laughing, patting his back.

“Oh— really now? ‘Just be a good boy and be quiet!’ Is that better??” You were giggling, since you knew your words made any sense for some Grandma to say, but he wasn’t taking this as a joke. The way you called him a good boy..

It.. turned something on for him, craving for more practically.

“Okay I think thats enough mushy reunion stuff, mm?” You smiled sweetly at the boy as he pulled away from the hug, his face still slightly flushed.

“Yeah..” he internally cursed himself for almost stuttering.

“Where’s Ashley?..” you quietly asked.

From that moment, everything happened like some sort of descending spiral of madness. The thing with the demon and Ashley… killing the second warden, all of that fancy stuff. (being horribly mortified in the end.)

You had the both of them stay in the motel for a while until you could bring them into your home as you got them necessities; paying for them to continue staying, getting them new clothes, food, entertainment and others (not even knowing about their little hobby together.)

You’d visit once a week, much to Andrews begging for you to come more often, constant thanks as well from him.

“..I don’t think we can repay you ever for this.”

You always said it was fine, and his sister did too. She seemed more laid backed about the entire situation.

And, when you rushed in the middle of the night to their motel in your car to tell them the news that you finished up your work for their rooms and such, only throwing on a long overcoat, keeping on your nightclothes and throwing one some slippers.

..but they weren’t in there.

“PSSSTTT” the sound almost made you scream, but you turned to the cause of the noise.

“Ashley!” You smiled, not speaking above a whisper.

“Get over here!!!” You immediately rushed over to her without another question, taking her into an embrace.

“Woah- calm down, goody-two-shoes!” She grumbled, trying to get you to let go or at least loosen your arms that were tightly wrapped around her.

“You and Andrew can finally come over!!” You practically cried out, a bright smile on your face.

“..Where is Andrew..?” You questioned after surveying around, letting go of the embrace you tightly held Ashley in.

“Went to go and check on something.. don’t worry about it.”

“..Alright. I’ll wait here if you don’t mind.” You quietly spoke, standing beside Ashley as your hand subconsciously grabbed hers, intertwining them.

And Ashley didn’t say anything about it. Just to see how her brother would react, of course.

That didn’t go well, let me tell you.

He came back, noticing you, he was so excited like a puppy seeing their owner once more, but noticing that you were holding Ashleys hand..

..For some reason it made him pissed off.

“..(____), why don’t you hold my hand instead?”

You were already starting in his direction to tackle him into a hug, but Ashley pulled you back.

“Nah.. I think she’ll stay right here, holding my hand.”

“Ashley.”

“Yes, dear Andyyyy?”

“Let her go. Right now.”

“Mm, nah.” She chuckled seeing him get so riled up.

He flat up walked on over to you two, grabbed you by the waist, swiftly pulling you away from Ashley.

“Oh you jackass!!!”

But he didn’t care.

And then, you all heard another car..

Thats when everything else unfolded.

They killed that man..

And you witnessed it.

Then again though, he was a murderer as well..

..but why??

You were shaking like a leaf, catching Andy’s attention.

“Shh shh.. its okay. Theres no need to cry or worry, alright? It was in self-defense. I promise this won’t happen again.” He consoled you, hugging you closely as you nodded.

Ashley looked baffled though, one of her eyes slightly twitching.

..guess they’ll just have to not kill in front of you from now on.

Well, moving on from this..

You had made some fake ID’s for them (made by another friend of yours, of course) along with some birth certificates, you just wanted to help them get on their feet again.

That would.. slightly backfire.

No matter what, he became so obsessed with you, he started stalking you, watching you do anything around the house. When you’d turn to see if anyone was watching, no-one was there..

You brushed it off multiple times, but even when you were in the shower, or changing, you felt the same feeling. It was all.. unnerving. You hated it. You wanted it to stop.

But, it continued and continued, and it got to the point where you started asking Andrew if you could sleep with him for the night, to which he immediately accepted; surprising you.

You got into his bed, him pulling the covers over you despite the fact you already had a blanket with you.. but that was fine. You rested your head on his chest as he wrapped his arms around your lower back, pressing you closer to him.

And strangely, it seemed like all of the eyes that were previously watching you were gone. You could finally drift off to sleep, where Ashley would make fun of you both each time, but stopped suddenly after a bit..

But you shrugged it off as she was just bored of the joke now that you have cuddled with Andrew so many times now just for you to feel safer within your own home!

Little did you know that the person you were cuddling with was the one watching you all along..

His fingers threaded through your hair, humming ever so softly. He kissed the crown of your head, your forehead, your cheeks, and then eventually, your lips. You tasted sweet to him, sweet like nothing he’d ever tasted before in contrast to his usual taste of mint and cigarettes within his mouth.

He wanted more of it..

He then continued kissing your lips, now making out with your unconscious body, taking breaks in between to undress you from your nightclothes, underwear, and so forth.

In your sleep, you felt something.. swishing within your mouth. It was warm, tasting everything within your mouth almost, like it was trying to claim it!

You slowly awoke very sadly since you couldn’t get your beauty rest, trying to find the cause, just to see it was Andy. The person you were so close with. You instinctively pushed him away, or tried.

As much as you wanted to- you couldn’t hurt him. What would be everything you went for then? What would Ashley do?? You’d have to live with the guilt of possibly hurting one of your friends.

..is he even your friend anymore?

He took notice of that, opening his eyes instantaneously as he felt your touch. He pulled away for a moment, examining your expression.

The room was silent, the atmosphere was palpable as he turned to an emotionless face. He moved you closer to him.

“Andy!?” You yelped out as your body became tense.

“..Shit— shit, no, fuck, i’m so sorry. This is wrong-“ Andrew pushed himself away, getting up and threading his hands through his hair. His eyes were wide as he realized what he’d done.

“..Andrew, why??..”

“I’m sorry- that was disgusting- I’m sorry!..”

Your facial expression was bewildered, but you eventually just frowned and grabbed his arm (which was shaking.)

“Andrew, you should’ve asked me first so I could’ve consented. Especially if you have some sort of som—“

“Wait!.. how are you so calm?!” You really aren’t.

“..I’m not. But I would’ve just want some more information- some sort of talk about this entire situation before we could do anything.” Caressing his hand, you smiled softly, and he simply just stared at you for at least 5 seconds straight.

Consent talk?

Consent talk!!

He gave a long ass apology for his actions, immediately about to just get up and leave.

But you stopped him to talk further talked about the situation. You talked about what you really wanted.

And if you both were ready.

Even though all of this didn’t happen throughout one entire night, you planned everything out. What you two were going to do.

If you wanted a relationship.

Or just a situationship.

You both decided to test the waters first before deciding that.

You need to get out. Leave.

What are you doing?

Please, go.

He’ll kill you too.

You couldn’t fall asleep after everything that happened, so he ran a bath for you and him, washing you both.

After that though, he dressed you in some more comfortable clothes for the afternoon it seemed despite being early morning now.

He had you sit in his lap, smoking (trying to get you to smoke as well), tending to your wounds.

And that’s when Ashley came to you both later within the morning, groaning.

“Why was there so much noise in the night?.. could barely sleep..”

Safe to say, you gave a.. believable excuse

Wow- theres a lot here! But, I hope you all enjoyed!!

[just-a-ghost00]

How can you improve ?

This PAC is meant to provide you with general advice to help you improve and move forward on your path. This is going to be a very simple reading, with only two cards for each group.

Group 1 - 8 of wands & Justice

You need to combine your creative power drive with careful execution. Your ideas and desires are worth exploring but you should proceed strategically. Act before any little hint of doubt can slither in your mind and stop you from moving forward. Don’t give yourself the time to hesitate but don’t be careless about it either. This is a difficult thing to do but if you manage to get into action at the precise point where you’ve thought about it enough without overthinking it, then you’ll be good to go. The second thing I am picking up on is communication. It is important that you clearly communicate your boundaries. Without exception. No matter who is standing in front of you. No matter how good they were to you. If someone crosses a boundary, it is mandatory that you call them out. No one gets a free pass, you deserve to be respected no matter what. You are no doormat, no punching ball nor a stress ball. You are a loveable human being and you should be treated as such.

Group 2 - 2 of cups, The Devil

Having the devil as an advice card feels a bit counter intuitive 😂 Combined with the 2 of cups, on top of that. To me, in this case, this represents sensuality and pleasure. Your key to improving is to allow yourself to indulge in whatever guilty pleasure you have. Want to eat that cupcake ? Go for it. Thinking about going on a vacation ? Fly as soon as you get the chance. You’ve been running in circles wondering if you should send that love confession? Don’t think twice. Allow yourself to be happy. Allow yourself to exist. You deserve to live. You deserve to take up space. You are allowed to laugh. You are allowed to have fun. You are allowed to love and be loved. It is not a sin to do what you like because you want it. It is not forbidden to let your guard down and just allow yourself to be. You are enough. Be in that receptive energy. Go with the flow and take things as they go, one step at a time. Slow down. Enjoy your life. Find your rhythm. Find your joy. Explore. Connect with people. Form partnerships. Do not deprive yourself of something out of guilt. You can never regret doing what you love.

Group 3 - 7 of wands, Hierophant

As the 7 of wands represents competition among other things and the Hierophant maturity, I feel like the first piece of advice is to be the bigger person. If anyone is coming at you with a bad vibe, do not even bother answering back. Don’t give them a taste of their own medicine, no matter how tempting that may sound. Believe me you won’t be feeling any better afterwards. The true victory lies in being able to tame your demons. The second piece of advice is to not give up on learning. If you’re a student, keep going and don’t give up on your education right now. If you wanted to learn a new skill but you feel like that would be too hard for you, don’t let that stop you. Keep pushing. Keep fighting for your goals and dreams. Seek for knowledge in everything and everyone. Take any opportunity presented to you as a lesson that will only make you wiser and richer. Don’t take things personally. See the bigger picture. Notice the patterns. Read between the lines. Don’t let yourself be fooled by appearances and look for the finer details. I’ll give you an example by using my own personal experience. My father was acting a bit oddly lately. He kept criticizing me every time I was doing something that I found enjoyable. At first, my reaction was to feel offended and it made me angry so I would be acting aloof as well. But then one morning I just sat for a minute or two after one more episode like this happened and I realized that the implicit message was that he was feeling sad and lonely, and the reason why he was acting that way was because he envied what I had and wanted to be a part of it. He envied the fact that despite not feeling very good myself, I was still able to do fun things and enjoy myself while he thought he couldn’t. Now if you look at that from an external point of view, you would say that had he allowed himself to do the same, he would have felt better. Which I would agree with. But being caught up in his mental fog, he didn’t realize that and instead thought that nagging at me would get me to pay him more attention when it generated the complete opposite.

[cherryrikis]

사랑으로 (with love,)

PAIRING swim instructors riki x fem reader

WARNINGS mild profanity

GENRE enemies to ??, fluff, angst if you squint

SYNOPSIS you hated riki because when it came to teaching your classes, he always one upped you. but riki doesn’t hate you. so when you both are punished for breaking equipment, he uses every opportunity to try and talk to you.

a/n loosely based of personal experience cz im a lifeguard🛟 also not proofread

it was meant to be a part time summer job. you just wanted something to do with all your free time, now that school was out.

but, the kids grew to love you, and you grew to love what you do.

so, you began to work full time at the local community pool.

instead of 2 classes a day, you’d teach 4 classes a day. it wasn’t too bad, each class only being 30 minutes.

you were so glad to help out, often even training the new interns.

until one. nishimura riki.

he was barely an intern for a week before becoming a full time employee. at first, you paid him no mind. he was a good teacher. very professional and good with the kids, often demonstrating the skills they needed to know to pass his class.

but eventually, he became better. he grew to become an even better teacher than you. the kids who loved you since the beginning started requesting to be put in riki’s class.

you watched him from across the pool, playfully splashing his students (who really, used to be your students), as they squealed about how the water was too cold.

but he always noticed your gaze. he turned around, smiling at you softly.

and you hated it, you felt nothing but hatred for him to the core of your heart. most of the staff noticed it, and it made it a bit awkward to work with either of you.

it was around 8:00 when your last class had ended. all your co-workers were putting the lane lines back in, preparing the pool for the swim team’s practice the following day.

“y/n? can you collect all the kick boards and put them away?” the manager, anton, asked you. “riki, go help y/n with all the other equipment.”

“what?” your mouth fell open, “anton, i can do it myself,”

“y/n.” anton cut you off. “don’t fight it. just let him help you.” he sighed before walking back into his office to pack up for the night.

you stood still in the middle of the walkway, ignoring how your coworkers moved past you to go wash up in the showers.

finally moving out the way to collect the boards, you huffed as you saw riki follow you into the storage room.

it was eerie. the lightbulb constantly went out, so the staff just figured to keep a candle and a lighter on the shelf above the bins.

riki lit the flame before going to help you clean up.

as you finished stacking the equipment, you went to walk out of the room, but riki grabbed your hand, pulling you back in.

“why do you hate me?”

“i don’t hate you.” you mumbled, before attempting to leave once more, only to be brought back to him.

he raised an eyebrow, looking you up and down.

“fine, i just don’t like you.” you scoffed. “you constantly one up me, taking my position, and even luring my students over to your class. nowadays, i don’t even get paid as much as you do anymore!”

“it’s not my fault! you act like my sole purpose was to come here and take your place.” riki grimaced at you. “maybe i am just the better instructor between us. it’s not my fault you can’t accept that.”

one might say it was out of jealous rage, or just an intolerance of immaturity. but something inside you snapped.

you shoved riki’s shoulder, causing him to fall against the wall and hit the shelf which held the candle.

from that point on, everything was in slow motion. the sound of glass breaking was loud and very audible.

the hot wax spilled across the plastic bin, melting the lid and spilling all over the foam boards which sat inside.

“what the fuck y/n?” riki yelled out.

immediately, anton came rushing in. he looked inside the bin, noticing how there was now a huge hole burnt through the container and all the boards inside. the equipment was no longer usable.

“are you serious? who’s fault was it? who did it?” he asked sturnly.

“it was y/n.” “riki did it.”

“are you kidding?!” you both exclaimed in unison.

“you knocked over the candle.” “you pushed me!” riki scoffed in disbelief. “it was foam! how do you manage to damage foam of all things?”

“enough!” anton intervened. he looked between you and riki, before moving his gaze to your red swim shirts. lifeguard, it read.

“your shirts are a symbol of your dedication and responsibility as a lifeguard and swim instructor. you may be good in the water, but you are both unbelievable outside it. if you keep this up, you could get those shirts revoked.”

“anton.. i’m so sorry.” you apologized, realizing what you done and that it technically was your fault.

“as much as i appreciate your apology, an apology won’t fix this mess. you two are on cleaning duty. i’ll call the janitor to tell him he doesn’t need to come tonight. the keys are on my desk, lock up before you leave.”

you nod in response, but riki still had something to say. “what? this is completely unfair! if anything, she should do it herself!”

but by then, anton had already left. “asshole.” he muttered. “this is all your fault y/n! by this rate we won’t finish for another hour or two.”

“by this rate, we won’t finish at all if you keep standing there and doing nothing. go grab that trash bag and mop.” you sighed.

riki was hesitant to help, but did so anyway, knowing it wasn’t up to him.

after power washing the concrete floors, scrubbing the bathrooms, and replacing all the damaged equipment, all the work was done by 10:05pm.

“good job, i guess. just wait for me then we can go.” you muttered as you finished wiping down the mirror of the employee’s bathroom.

“why would i wait for you?” he scoffed.

“you’re the one who got us in this mess.”

“i- whatever. just, let me help you.” riki licked his dry lips, taking the sponge from you.

the pool doors and the office were all locked up. you both were ready to leave before he paused right in front of the entrance.

“you wanna get something to eat? i’ll drive you home after. you shouldn’t walk by yourself and especially not on an empty stomach.”

“yeah. that’d be nice.” you replied, smiling genuinely at him for the first time.

with the both of you freshly showered yet so tired, riki drove to the nearest mcdonalds, ordering for the two of you.

after the food was picked up at the window, he pulled up at empty parking lot, turning off the engine so you could eat together.

“why are you still so nice to me after i was so rude to you?” you asked with a quiet voice, suddenly feeling bad as you reflected on your past interactions

“you know, it was never on purpose..” he whispered.

“what?” you asked, confused. his answer seemed slightly unrelated to your question.

“earlier, when we were still at the rec center. i asked why you hated me, and you said i basically replaced you.” riki reminded. “it wasn’t on purpose. i just really liked you back when you were only training me. and i thought, i don’t know.. maybe you thought it’d be attractive if you saw i was good with kids or something. but i never meant to make you feel that way.”

“oh riki..” you pouted, putting your box of chicken nuggets down. “i’m so sorry. i had no idea. i mean, if it makes you feel any better, i thought you were pretty cute when i was training you.”

“yeah, i guess that actually does help.” he smiled.

“can i..” you mumbled, leaning forward towards riki as he remained still in the drivers seat.

slowly, he moved closer to you, before eventually connecting your lips in a gentle kiss.

you moved your mouth against his, softly deepening the kiss.

riki smiled against you, and it was very noticeable. you found it cute how his face ran hot when you finally pulled away to repeatedly peck his cheek.

he brought a hand up to your face, holding you delicately. you leaned into his touch, before grimacing as you felt a slimy substance touch you.

“ew, riki!” you exclaimed, realizing his thumb had just accidentally wiped mustard under your eye.

he laughed, the sound like music to your ears, before he helped you wipe it off.

“i’m looking forward to working with you now that we don’t hate each other. maybe whenever we make eye contact mid class, you’ll stop looking at me weirdly.” you joked.

“oh come on, you know i only ever looked at you with love”. riki pursed his lips into a smirk, before bringing your lips back against his.

[dev1lm4n]

all glory

masterlist | kofi (support me here!)

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: joel has been feeling insecure, finding it hard to come to terms that he's indeed aging. tommy suggests a clever solution: a post-apocalyptic glory hole

word count: 4.8k of pure filth

warnings: minors dni (18+), post-outbreak, joel is 56 here hehe hot old men, insecurities, glory hole, fingering, unsafe piv, slight breeding kink, no pregnancy stuff tho cuz im terrified of that, reader calls him sir, pet name (darling)

note: i decided to create a kofi bcs im a broke college student lol. anyways hope yall enjoy this, do COMMENT and REBLOG if you enjoyed this :)

Joel Miller had always been a man of confidence.

Being left as a single father for Sarah at an early age, he’s been through thick and thin, trying his best to make ends meet so that they wouldn’t have to end up in one of those run-down shelters. But never once did he question his ability to attract women. 

He’s always had it in him. With a mere glance from his expressive eyes, he can ensnare hearts and leave an everlasting impression on anyone fortunate enough to encounter him. Rugged masculinity and striking refinement; a deathly mix that kept girls swarming after him like bees. After the world descended into chaos, he’s not much different either. Perhaps the bone-deep trauma had left him looking eternally exhausted with sunken eyebags, or that gray filaments started becoming a welcomed addition to his beard, but all in all he’s still charming.

He didn’t have to seek, because people seek for him. Joel had plenty of erotic rendezvous in times where society crumbled and the rule of law eroded, more so now that everyday could be his last and he didn’t have the privilege to take it slow like a true Southern gentleman. He’s done it everywhere. Inside a stuffy closet while hiding from a clicking monstrosity, behind a thin wall while her husband sat cluelessly on the other side, and even taking sexual compensation for his little business. Joel Miller wasn’t a saint. Neither he one for God and he’d like to make it obvious.

Nowadays though, within the tall foreboding walls of Jackson City, that type of attention has faded away. He’s no longer getting those longing stares from across the floor, no longer being begged to corrupt just for some extra wad of cards, no longer being flirted and fawned over like a goddamn stud. Joel didn’t have any problem with it at first. He’s growing old. Instead of those naughty strands of white peeking out of his head, he’s now a complete mix of salt and pepper. Instead of just having a fun smile line, forehead rolls and crows’ feet are now imprinted deep into every crevice. Joel wasn’t the man he used to be. 

He’s weathered away, he thought, unsuited for fun and adventure.

Perhaps it had something to do with his daughter as well. Even when Ellie’s not from his actual blood, everyone in town viewed her that way. He’s her father. Thus, everyone seemed to perceive and treat him as merely a father and not as an actual person that has his own needs and wants. Joel loved his daughter. Terribly so in ways he couldn’t decipher. A part of him has made up his mind that this would be how he should spend the rest of his life: in celibacy. Though the retirement of his sexual and romantic life has slowly taken a toll towards his self-esteem. Tommy, who’s always known to be rather slow and imperceptive, was surprisingly the first one to take notice of his gradual change.

“Maria told me you might be here.”

Tommy’s gruff voice brought him out of his trance. Joel looked up, meeting the familiar figure crouch to get into his little workshop. It was his newfound hobby these days, becoming a hermit and isolating himself from the community. He’d craft a wooden figure or two each night while he relived each and every one of his memories. Good and bad. Of death and of birth. Then by the end of the night he’d feel mildly satisfied with a wooden sculpture shaped like memorabilia from the old world. Joel couldn’t admit it outloud, but insecurity had taken over him. It festered deep into his soul that he couldn’t even bear looking at himself in the mirror anymore or present himself to society.

“Yeah, just..” he paused to ponder on a better way to answer. “Just doin’ my own thing.”

“You skippin’ dinner again?” Tommy’s curiosity sounded oddly suspicious, enough that Joel already knew he’s about to say something obnoxious or entirely uncalled for. The older quirked his thick eyebrows in return.

“Made myself my own plate,” Joel cocked his head towards where a lone plate sat. Judging from the crimson stain smeared on top, it must’ve been one of those canned pastas that he picked out.

“Brother..” Tommy started out, visibly nervous of how his brother would take it. “Is there something wrong?”

“With me?”

“Yeah, with you.”

“No, not that I could think of,” Joel hummed. “I ain’t bitten or anythin’, why are ya asking such a dumb question anyway?”

“You’re just different these days,” Tommy reasoned with a small frown. “You barely come out of your house and if you do, you’re huddled up in this place, carving things for hours on end.”

“There’s nothin’ wrong with wanting to be alone. Is there?” he challenged.

“No, but you’re.. different. Almost like your mind’s troubled for once.”

“There’s nothin’ wrong, Tommy,” he insisted.

Joel was actively avoiding the accusations. He stood up from where he’s been perched upon for hours on end, bringing his half-carved wooden slab with him to set it on one of the displays he had. He’s grown quite the collection. It’s been going on far longer than he’d expected, the crippling fear of being undesirable and hideous, and it brought up an immense feeling of embarrassment. He couldn’t possibly admit such things to Tommy, could he? Tommy was different from him. His first child was on its way to be birthed, but girls still chatter about his charming smile and strong figure. They’d still gossip and make dirty guesses about his size. How long he endured such activities, the position he enjoyed best, and how sweet he was to his partner.

Tommy couldn’t possibly understand his fear.

“You can’t help me even if I told ya,” he grumbled.

“Put some trust in me, will ya?” Tommy chuckled as he spun around his seat to follow Joel’s every move. “Tell me what’s troublin’ you, big brother.”

“They don’t look at me the same way.”

“Who doesn’t?”

“The ladies,” Joel muttered.

His words were barely above a whisper. It almost seemed as if he saw the phenomenon as something humiliating, up to the point where he couldn’t even look Tommy in the eye in fear of having him laugh. He’s never talked about this with anyone else. It didn’t help that he truly didn’t have anyone to talk to in general aside from the few acquaintances his brother introduced him to and well.. Ellie. But none of them seem to be the right person to talk to regarding this. 

Regarding his failure in masculinity. His unspoken worries that he didn’t have any of the strong, chiseled jawline or any of the tightly packed abdomen with six separate squares to admire. He’s grown old and weak. Five years ago, he could’ve probably still sweet-talk his way into a woman's heart, but now he couldn’t even look one in the eye without the fear of being put to shame.

“They still do, Joel,” Tommy assured him. He’s telling the truth. Joel knew that Tommy didn’t have it in him to lie, he’d have sounded like a strangled bird or a squeaky dog’s toy if he did. But his mind couldn’t believe it one bit.

“I don’t know, Tommy..” he muttered. “They don’t look at me the same way. They don’t look at me at all even.. and I’m fine with that I 'spose. I ain’t a whorin’ bastard who couldn’t accept that he’s agin’..”

“But they do, Joel.”

“I’m old,” he sucked in the air. “Lately there are these moments where I.. where I’d look a girl in the eye and all I could feel was humiliation.”

“Humiliation?”

“Like they’re lookin’ at me as if I’m some.. some sort of repulsive creature,” he whispered. “I feel like I could hear ‘em gigglin’ with their girlfriends on how shameless I am.”

Tommy was deduced into silence. Time ticked by as he cranked up his brain to figure out the best way to aid his older brother out of his misery. It’s all in his head, Tommy knew that Joel knew that as well, but it’s easier patching up an oozing wound than a troubled mind. He brought his hand together on top of his jeans as he waited for the younger to make another comment, whether of comfort or of a harsh reality.

“I’ll offer you a solution,” Tommy spoke up. “But you gotta promise not to lose your head over it.”

“It ain’t drugs, is it?”

“No, no..” Tommy chuckled humorlessly.

“I’m open to anythin’” Joel dropped his arms to his side as he curiously eyed Tommy.

“Have you ever heard of a glory hole?”

Joel’s expression contorted in such a way that the younger Miller couldn’t possibly read what he’s thinking any longer.

“I ain’t goin’ outside those borders just to go to some sketchy brothel, Tommy. That’d be pathetic.”

“Well, the thing is this whole operation ain’t sketchy,” Tommy reasoned. “The girls were tested and approved by the local doctor before..”

“Local doctor? You tellin’ me this is happenin’ within Jackson?”

“I operate it, Joel,” he sighed, knowing he’s about to be bombarded with a handful of questions. “And before you ask, no this ain’t considered prostitution as there’s no material exchange.”

“You mean..”

“Yes. The girls do it for free. Volunteers. They do it for their own pleasure and I help make their dreams come true.”

Joel looked at his own brother as if he was a mad man. Who wouldn’t? When he’s just told him that they had an actual glory hole installed without most of the public knowing. Or perhaps they knew, they were just not talking about it in front of Joel.

“Ten to twelve. There’s a small house across the sheep field. One girl every Friday night.”

“Jesus Christ, Tommy. Maria knows about this?”

Tommy shifted uncomfortably on the stool.

“No, but it’s better off she doesn’t.”

Joel felt his morals set askew for a second. This sounded like a terrible idea, despite the fact that he’s confirmed it himself that it’d be the safest a glory hole could possibly be. He scratched his beard and took it into deep consideration.

In the quiet stillness of a winter’s night, the world was wrapped in a soft, white blanket of snow. The moon hung low in the dark sky - a beacon towards those who chose to travel in the deepest hours of nighttime. Joel blew puffs of warm air onto his gloved fingertips, hoping it’d satiate the coolness that made his joints ache and his skin itch. The air was crisp and biting, each breath producing a frosty cloud which quickly amalgamated into the air. He watched as gentle snowflakes, alike to elegant ballet dancers, fell from the heavens up above and twirled and swirled into an intricate pattern. He’s been waiting for way too long.

“So what are ya sayin’? Are you gonna let me take you tomorrow night?” Tommy broke the silence.

Tommy promised to meet him on the edge of the sheep field, where they’d herd livestocks all throughout the warmer times of the year, but he’s yet to see his tall nose and dark hair from any of the cardinal directions. He’s been waiting for too long to keep the same mindset Tommy’s trained him into, that this was simply a beneficial exchange for every party involved and that he shouldn’t feel shameful for something so instinctive. Waiting gave him time to weigh out the cons, how this was naturally an act of debauchery that wounded both his moral values and beliefs. He ain’t a God preacher, but he’s sure to keep some of those Southern manners.

Maybe this was a bad idea.

None of Tommy’s ideas are ever well thought out. Starting from his sudden gravitation towards the military, to his desires to hand over his entire life towards the Fireflies, and now this. He knew his younger brother wasn’t the brightest of men, but creating an entire glory hole to keep the town’s morale up might be the stupidest one he’s heard yet. Especially when Maria’s not aware of it. He feared for the day when the beans spilled out of its jar, but tonight wasn’t that day. During the time in which he contemplated his decisions, Joel didn’t notice the crunching of snow against thick boots. Tommy was here and he looked far too calm for a self-made procucer.

Tommy beckoned him to follow the path his boots had made. Joel sucked in some of that painfully cold air into his lungs, before he stuffed his hands in his pockets and started trailing along. There were a few street lamps across the field, a ruddy glow emanating from them as they were adorned with a light dusting of snow. He kept his guards up while he scanned through the whistling field of crop, that traumatized part of him always keeping in check of abrupt movements and unsettling sceneries. After a quiet walk for a good three minutes, they finally arrived. The house fronts looked dark enough, and the windows even darker, contrasting with the smooth white sheet of snow upon the roofs.

There was snow piling up outside as well, dirtier ones whose last deposit had been plowed up in deep furrows by the heavy wheels of carts and wagons. He scrutinized over the tracks, wondering if this was meant to be used as a makeshift grain tower. If it was, then Tommy must’ve been a great scheming asshole to turn such a place into his own little heaven. Not one soul was around, which confused Joel even more. Wasn’t this supposed to be a public glory hole? Weren’t it supposed to be disgustingly packed with sweating men, adorned with walls covered in left-over spurts of cum and other bodily fluids, and smelled like sex itself?

Joel continued to pursue Tommy even when he’s overly skeptical about this entirely new scene. His boots were scuffed as he was dragging his feet through the front door, a fight against his defense system that’s begging him to flee out the door at the unfamiliarity. The establishment consisted of a long narrow hallway that eventually led up to an imposing door. Wooden, large, and mysterious.

To his surprise, what was beyond that door wasn’t some tacky sex dungeon with rattling chains and leather whips, it was a modest looking box. Square, he’d assume one meter wide and half a meter tall. He took in the wood it was made from. His pointer finger slowly traced the circumference out of habit. Oak, he concluded, making it sturdy and cool even in the warmer weather. What he failed to notice from the get-go was a pair of legs that were stretched open, chained onto the wall from the considerably-sized gap. Joel’s heart dropped to his stomach, he forgot for an entire minute what he was planning to do, and he’s starting to get cold feet.

“Darlin’, I’ve got someone for you,” Tommy cooed.

“You do, Tommy?”

Normally, people acquire hobbies in order to soothe their brief but occasional boredom, though you have discovered a unique way to tackle long hours of the night. This brilliant discovery of yours was birthed from a fated moment. One where you accidentally stumble across the conversation Tommy had with one of his patrol friends. It began a fantasy in your head. One you didn’t believe could come true until you overheard a passionate storytelling session one of the barmaids gave their friend. Only then did you gather enough courage to talk to Tommy about it. Despite his initial disapproval, saying things like you look too good and gentle to be doing such things, you managed to convince him with a week's worth of nagging.

“Mhm, one of my good friends here,” he hummed. “You’ll let him use you like a good fucking girl, won’t you?”

Goosebumps trailed from your backbone down to where your legs spread wide. Your nervousness made you flinch, effectively causing your legs to rattle against the metal restraints.

“Yes, I will, Tommy.”

When did you get so.. obedient?

“Alright then. I’ll see you in um.. twenty?”

“Thirty,” the foreign voice spoke up, masculine with a twinge of accent.

“Thirty it is.”

The entire room went quiet for an entire minute, only then did you finally hear the door slammed back shut. You swallowed back the throbbing fear in your heart, pushing back those persistent thoughts constantly warning you of the dangers. Even if you trusted Tommy with all your life, you didn’t trust the random strangers Tommy’s picked out. How could you trust them when you didn’t know who they were for sure? They could’ve been someone you see on the daily. The friendly guards, the cafeteria guy who’d always beam a sweet smile your way and give out more bread than standard, or even.. Tommy’s hunk of a brother. The same one who wouldn’t even spare you a look when you’re obviously sending heart eyes his way.

“Darlin’ is your name, ain’t that right?”

There was something so.. alluring about his voice. The type that makes your knees buckle inevitably, despite your best efforts to push it apart.

“That’s right,” you squeaked out.

“Darlin’, it’s been a long long time since I’ve done this, so let me indulge in you alright?”

“Okay,” you breathed out unsurely.

Your eyes instinctively followed the direction of the hushed voice, but all you could see from the dim box was a piece of dark fabric that was hung from above the hole. It was to keep your identity a secret so that the patrons across from you could only see you from the belly button down. Though now you felt more inclined than ever to pull on the draping and meet this man’s eyes. Your thoughts soon diminished when you felt a large hand over your inner thighs. Nowhere dangerous, just resting below where your kneecaps sat. You closed your eyes to try and envision the kind of hands touching you.

Were they soft and unsullied like a baby’s bum? Or were they rough and ridged with years of work?

That large hand traveled down South, inching with an irritatingly slow pace down towards where you ached the most. He was a fair man. He treated both of your thighs in the same manner before the two gathered together in a v-shape over your cotton panties. You wondered if you should’ve worn something more enticing, something which suited a person like you - someone willing to spread their legs for a true stranger. But the man on the other side didn’t seem to have a problem. He didn’t seem like he was bothered by the simplicity of your presentation, instead he was keen on pressing his thumb down the center.

They were the latter. 

His fingers were textured and it felt too good to be true. At the briefest touch, you followed after his movement, hips reaching further up to chase after his departing touch. You whined. Frustrated that he’s cruel enough to press your sensitive clit and leave you all hot and bothered. He let out a deep chuckle, one that came out from the depth of his stomach as he placed his thumb back where it belonged. Your hole clenched and unclenched at the stimulating sensation. Your cotton panties seemed to be a great aid for your needy clit. It felt similar to grinding over a pillow, just this time, it felt a lot more real and animated.

“How long have you been doin’ this, darlin’?”

“Doin’ what, sir?”

So polite. It’s laughable the fact that you’re so soft spoken. Your lips spilled out a gentle moan as his thumb dug deeper into that sensitive spot.

“Lettin’ strangers fuck you,” he was frank with his words that’s for sure.

“This is my first time.. in the box that is,” your voice cracked almost immediately under pressure. “Been thinking of this for a long long time though.”

The gruff man hummed noncommittally as he continued to please you with his thumb. You used to be shy when it comes to being reactive during intercourse, but with the box, it almost felt like you could finally be your true primal self with your utmost carnal desires. He slowly eased your stained panties to the side once he saw an increasingly growing wetness, knowing that it’s time to move on to his next way of torture. Your pussy was exposed to the cool air immediately, it felt like the air was nipping at the sensitive skin all around. He took his two fingers - his middle and pointer finger being his favorite choice despite the controversy - and slowly dragged it atop the slick canal.

“A pretty girl like you gettin’ all wet from a little touchin’,” he chided. “You haven’t been fucked well or somethin’?”

What a considerate man. He called you pretty when he could barely tell what you look like.

“No, maybe, I-” you were flustered. You’ve never had to exchange proper talk when someone’s touching your dirty, wet cunt. “None of Jackson’s men did good. That’s why I hoped..”

Your voice trailed off into a garble of nonsense when he teased at your entrance, trying to decide whether you’re soaked enough to push a finger in comfortably. You whined, louder this time, as your legs fought against the uncomfortable metal cuffs wrapped around your ankle. He decided to play nice for once and made your dreams come true by inserting that thick finger of his. Fingering has never felt good for you, it always felt like an intrusion rather than a welcomed feeling, but he’s making it feel like heaven on earth.

“Hoped a stranger would fuck me well enough,” you took awhile to finish that statement.

He let out one of those noises of disapproval, at your skewed moral direction perhaps or at the tone of desperation your voice must’ve let out. You could only suck in a shallow breath when he started making proper, continuous motions with his finger. He pushed upwards to poke the tip of his finger onto that squishy part, playing around to find out where exactly made you react the most. You loved how he’s patient. You’re half-expecting the men to just stuff their cocks in you like you’re some sex doll instead of taking their time, which you don’t mind either. Half the pleasure was from being treated like nothing.

“Dirty gal,” he degraded, which you found both surprising and exciting. “Just wanted her pussy stuffed with any cock she could have, hm?”

Your hips thrusted up at a larger interruption. This time, the man managed to insert two of his thick fingers inside your eased cunt. He twisted it one-hundred-eighty degrees to the left, then back to the right, before he curled it in a come-here motion. The motion had left you dumb. A combination of ah ah ah’s and unfinished pleads for him to keep still. The man never once fully removed his fingers out of you. He’d slowly pull back to only have a single knuckle stuck inside before pushing it all the way in once more. For once, someone didn’t finger you like you’re a pizza dough waiting to be pounded.

“A-ah, sir. I really.. mmh- I really like that,” you moaned out shamelessly. “Feels really good in my.. in my pussy.”

“You like what, darlin’?”

“Like your fingers.. fingers in my ah- ah pussy!” you whined when he deepened his reach by rotating his wrist upwards. “Something- fuck- something’s coming! Please.. Please don’t sto-”

You warned him like a goddamn virgin and there it was, you couldn’t see it, but you could hear the way your pussy squelched around his finger at the new wave of sticky fluids. The noises were filthy and lewd that you were embarrassed for the first time that night. It coated your throbbing cunt and slowly ebbed out of your hole, dribbling down onto the wooden floor boards under. Strings of almost translucent thickness proof of his success. It’s pretty. The way you gaped around his fingers, tightened and relaxed at his fingers that still kept you full.

“Good girl,” he cooed.

He must be experienced, because he was quick to rub your clit precisely as you went through the throes of orgasm. His broad palm never missed where that bundle of nerves were, until you’re dripping all over the place. Only when you’re right towards the end did he land a small smack atop your pussy, keeping pressure where your womb is to maintain the pleasure for as long as you could. It felt like this wasn’t a shit place for once. It felt like this stranger could surely turn the flesh-eating monsters into a field of rainbows and flowers from how good he’s making you feel.

“You taste sweet,” he muttered. “Someone ever told you that?”

It took you a while to notice that his fingers weren’t there to stuff you full. He was busy tasting you. You could imagine him on the other side of the room, rough fingers deep in his mouth, drenched in your arousal. The thought made you squirm, growing wet once more. You shook your head as his hand slid back up. His fingers ran over your clit with one long stroke before they stayed there. His thumb sat right atop the throbbing spot, unmoving. 

"Perfect little thing, ain't ya?” he asked, and you nodded, your muscles tense as anticipation ran high. "Gonna fill you up real nice."

As soon as the dull tip of his cock prodded against your entrance, your whole body convulsed. Tears slowly crept into your eyes, frustrated, you might as well cry out a pathetic plea if he kept on stalling. Your palms banged flat against the side of the box. Overwhelmed and on the verge of tears when he purposefully missed your weeping hole. His length slid upwards, the warm tip rubbed against your clit from below before it shied away once more. Your toes curled and he must’ve taken the hint from behind the curtains.

The perfect stranger pushed himself up to where his mushroom-like tip ended, allowing you to adjust to the dimensions of his cock before he eased himself deeper.

You let out a strained moan. 

You almost bump the top of your head on the oak boards when he forced his way in. His cock was fully inside you at last. You were ecstatic. Eyes shut close as you bit into your bottom lip, flesh tearing beneath your canines. It was too much all of a sudden. Too good. Too large. Too full. You could hear the loud squelching noise your spongy hole made as he pulled back and stuffed himself back in.

“Fuck,” he groaned silently. “Don’t squeeze around me, darlin’. You're gonna get me in big trouble.”

He chuckled and fuck did it sound so hot.

You felt his fingers gently reach for the width of your hips. His grip was tight and harsh as he guided your every movement with them. He thrusted like a man on a shooting range, with much precision and prowess. You liked this. Liked feeling as if you’re just a doll for people to use and dump their loads in, especially when it's for someone like him. His cock made you writhe and fight against the metal cuffs holding your legs up. Eager to have him speed up to meet your desires yet he was persistent in keeping a stable speed. The sensation was growing. Slowly but surely.

“A-ah.. mmph.. oh God!”

“God ain’t here to save you, darlin’. It’s just this old man right here,” he cooed crudely. 

He made sure to keep you full at all times. Never once did his perfectly-sized cock leave your sloppy hole, it just kept on twitching and growing in size with the help of your warm embrace. “You like this, don’t ya?”

“Oh- oh yes. I like it. Love your..,” he stopped your lewd confession by placing his thumb back atop your once neglected clit, drawing lazily with what’s left of your wetness. You could feel him starting to seep. A tinge of his own arousal mixing in with yours. “Cock! Love your c- cock.”

His heavy pants started to intensify in volume, such a lovely melody when combined with your pathetic whimpers. He’s close.

“Gonna cum in you, darlin’” he muttered out breathlessly. “Gonna make sure you’re all fucked out with my cum.”

You couldn’t think straight. Not when you’re on a highway to heaven. Your little hole tightened, so eager to milk him dry.

“Yeah, you’d like that, won’t you?”

“O-oh.. oh yes. Please.. fuck,”

“Please?”

“Please fill me up.”

His tip started oozing out ribbons after ribbons of cum, quickly filling you up relentlessly. Though he hasn’t stopped bottoming himself up into you. His load sloshed around, coated his length a perfect milky shade, and dribbled down your rear deliciously. Did you really just let a complete stranger fill you up to the top? Did you truly just let him pour his seed up your needy hole?

Maybe you did.

And maybe it’s reckless.

But oddly enough, you don’t feel too bad about it.

[jupitersswiftie]

THE ALCHEMY - PROLOGUE

prohero! deku x popstar! reader

(slight prohero! kiribaku x reader)

How many times could she pace her dorm room? How deep could her finger nails dig into her skin? Was she even allowed to cry at such a situation?

Y/n L/n found herself in the predicament of a lifetime. One that many daydreamed of. Her stress levels were, safe to say, off the charts. Her mind was racing, still in heavy disbelief that this was reality. The tension in her room was thick. Everyone could feel it.

“I, just, I. .I don’t know what to do, you guys!” Y/n worried aloud to her friend group, her voice more exasperated with each syllable.

Katsuki Bakugo was visibly growing agitated as he watched his girlfriend fret over something with such an obvious solution. Eijiro Kirishima watched his friend with worried eyes, hating to see her so upset. Denki Kaminari and Mina Ashido simply appeared bored as they knew precisely what she was to do. Hanta Sero was slightly confused as he had arrived late to the emergency bakusquad meeting in Y/n’s dorm room.

“Can I ask what’s going on?” Sero piped up, taking a cautious seat on Y/n’s lavender couch next to Kirishima.

Denki swiped on his phone, his expression and tone as monotone as ever. “She got a record deal and she’s debating whether she should drop out of the hero course and take it or whether she should stay and be a hero.”

Sero’s eyes widened with excitement before he turned to Y/n’s distressed state and scoffed, “Easy, take the deal.”

To Y/n’s close friends and family, this was a ridiculous ultimatum Y/n was giving herself. Even in the top hero school, Y/n lived and breathed for music. She would play guitar until her fingers bled and piano until her fingers cramped so heavily it was difficult to write the next day. She would abruptly leave conversations to take a quick voice note on her phone as she had just gotten a lyric or melody that she simply couldn’t forget. She had a whole mini studio in her room a lot like Jiro and Denki. She would stay up at night with them collaborating more times than they all care to admit.

While she was a good student, she evidently prioritized her artistry over her coursework and hero work. Yet, what beat her passion for music was the fact that her work was actually good. Class 1-A could not get enough of her music. They all eagerly awaited her melodies. Even the most monotone of the bunch enjoyed her work. Some even connected to her words on a deep level.

To her friends and family her purpose in life was painfully obvious. She was made for music.

Yet, Y/n was clearly second guessing herself.

Being at UA was an honor and a privilege to say the least. She decided to enter the hero course because she wanted to help people. She wanted to make a difference. She came from a long line of heroes and the impact that they made on the world was astonishing. She wanted to contribute in some way. She couldn’t leave people astray all because she had a silly dream.

She took a deep breath, hoping to communicate her viewpoint. “Yeah, but it’s not that simple!” She dragged her hand through her hair. “Yes, I absolutely love music and, yes, I would absolutely internally regret it for the rest of my life if I didn’t take the deal. But, people would kill to have my spot here at UA right now. We only have a year left before we graduate and I don’t want to be selfish. Why would I spend my life writing words and melodies when I could be saving people?!”

Her final sentence was Bakugo’s final straw. He stood up from her bed and grabbed her face gently but firmly. “Now, you’re gonna listen to me, Y/n. Cut the shit. You know what you fuckin’ need to do. You’re not being selfish or whatever the hell you think that you are being by taking this deal. People don’t just need physical saving. They need it emotionally too . Your music will impact people in ways you’re being too damn closed minded to dream of. So take the fuckin deal and see what the school can accommodate. Got it?”

The silence in the room was loud. The bakusquad simply stared at the couple as Y/n peered up at her boyfriend, looking directly into his fiery, ruby eyes. They screamed confidence. Confidence in her.

She gently placed her hands atop of his and she mumbled in soft agreement, “Okay.”

An almost unnoticeable smile formed on Bakugo’s lips. “I’m so fuckin’ proud of you. You hear me?” He whispered gently gazing into her glossy eyes. He pressed a firm, reassuring kiss to her lips before pulling her right up against him in a tight hug.

The moment between the couple was a rare but sweet sight for the bakusquad as they weren’t usually too keen on pda. They would hold hands at times and occasionally snuggle up on the couch with one another. Denki even caught a few chaste kisses every now and then. Yet, they had never seen a moment so intimate shared between the two.

To Y/n, as Bakugo held her in his arms, the background faded. She knew that everything was going to be okay. She knew that she was making the right decision. As long as she had him, everything would always be okay.

While they were wrapped up in one another and the sweet moment of victory, they failed to notice was Kirishima’s angsty but loving gaze upon them. His stomach swirled with mixed, bittersweet emotion. Oh, how he loved them both so dearly. He longed to be a part of them. To share in this moment. To hold them close, pepper kisses across both of their faces, and celebrate Y/n’s much deserved success.

But, he knew that it would never be possible.

Not in this life.

When it was time for everyone to leave, he left the couple behind with much hesitation. What if he ran back in there? What if he told them everything? Then where would they stand?

He ultimately brushed the temptation off. Just as he always did. He walked slowly back to his dorm, his heart ached with each beat. He silently hoped that if he walked slow enough Y/n’s door would open and he would hear them call for him. They would invite him to join their celebration. But that moment never came. Instead, he heard their private laughter as he turned the corner towards his room.

He couldn’t help the tear that fell down his cheek. He wiped it quickly thinking to himself, ‘How unmanly.’

Months passed and much had changed. Y/n L/n was a quick rising new star that the world could not get enough of. UA had surprisingly been extremely accommodating to her situation. Denki and Mina theorized that it was because Principal Nezu and All Might were quite huge (but closeted) fans of her work and longed to see her graduate from their institution. They provided her with portable academic work for when she was on the road and only required that she keep her hero license up to date while she attended UA. She could pop in and out of in person schooling as she needed.

When Y/n was gone, Bakugo found himself mostly at Kirishima’s side. They were best friends after all. They spared, played video games, and had developed the more recent habit of deep late night chats. These chats were a dangerous game. They both knew it. Kirishima cautiously danced around the fact that he was actively in love with him and his girlfriend. While Bakugo internally wrestled with the fact that he was indeed developing feelings for his shark toothed best friend. All while he was dating the woman of his dreams.

How messed up could he be?

The amount of times that the truth had nearly came out was frightening. Oh, how they knew they were playing with fire. But fire is comforting if you don’t get too close. Right?

[thousandyearphantombunker]

The Owl House Critical Post, scroll away now I don't know if I am being too harsh in this post but I wrote it anyway so if you don't wanna read something potentially upsetting this is a warning (to those who decide to read please tell me if I'm being too harsh)

I remember initially hating how the show handled its villains, they all felt like jokes, they never felt like threats or like they provided a meaningful challenges for the main cast, they never had any real depth or complexity. but i bit my tongue, I was told that I was basically a dumbass for complaining that Bump openly breaks a law that's supposed to be punishable by death so that Luz could fulfill her witchy fantasy and that he wasn't arrested. the show could've had him make the multiclass student thing be something underground- boom it lets luz live out her fantasy but doesn't ignore what was established about the setting and creates potential stakes if these underground classes ever got discovered! That already made me angry but the cult thing is what I wanted to complain about- i only had basic ass knowledge about cults and TOH fails at portraying that crap, most people in the EC can just quit and do so in a way that makes it feel like they're just quitting a job, it doesn't feel like they fear losing their friends or sense belonging and community, they don't feel like they're anything but jokes. Leaving a cult is scary, often times cults will send their followers into the real world and set them up to have bad experiences so they'll come running back, they'll hire thugs to scare them into staying or position them in away so that they suffer (sending them out without money or the skills to survive), they humiliate those who begin to ask questions so that they stay in line. guilt tripping, putting members against each other, cutting off contact with the rest of the world! The show only adds the whole 'forced to fight on a mountain' thing for flavor! Everytime it brings up actual stuff cults do it feels like it's more for flavor than actually writing this topic with sensitivity- look at how they treat Lilith! Imo It feels like the show insulting people for ever trusting belos, treating them like they're braindead and could've just realized fairly easily that he was evil. It's the most egregious with hunter who was basically fucking born into the EC. the show is also pretty black and white, which is curious for a show that gets praise for its portrayal of religious trauma. You think the show would be more grey. I did deeper research into cults and just got SO tired of people talking about how good the show was at conveying such a heavy topic. The titan reveal also doesn't help- Luz is told by an all powerful deity that she is the chosen one basically and is told that old man is evil and needs to go down- isn't that the same justification that belos uses for his actions- not saying belos should've gotten redemption or forgiveness but this feels wrong. He deserved to die don't get me wrong but using this justification feels gross. What's even worse is that the titan made Philip's life harder on purpose- ah yeah that brainwashed cult victim would totally change his mind especially if you make his life harder- yeah I would've preferred if belos was depicted in a flashback just having a bad time on the boiling isles and cherry picked those bad experiences to justify his actions. Also I hate that the show just writes belos off as greedy and glory seeking when it could've conveyed a message about how people can get absolutely get warped by religious dogma. I do wonder though if I'm being too harsh because TOH is for kids and I was told it would be hard to portray this stuff in a way kids could understand. I can come up with ways to make the breaking the law openly thing less egregious but I am struggling to think of ways the show could have handled the cult thing, I am aware that maybe I'm accidentally saying stuff that is kind of bad faith but this is my truth. I feel like TOH wasn't good at villains and it sure as hell didn't write cults well

[sheisjoeschateau]

"...at the Chateau, we'll be alright."

Steve Harrington x Jonathan Byers x fem!reader A crossover au inspired by Saltburn and Call Me by Your Name. Additional inpso from Joe's college theater performance as in Spring Awakening.

Song Inso: "Chateau" by Djo

Strangers to best friends to lovers. Slowburn. Angst, angst, angst. Fluff, fluff, fluff. Hurt/comfort. Romance, with polyamory themes and schemes. Smut with hella plot.

Summary: The reader lives with her parents at a fancy chateau, in France.  This year, her father offers their home as a housing sanctuary to a select student or graduate.  He decides to invite two graduate students to live with their family over the summer, coming from different working class backgrounds, and help with their academic paperwork as a professor of archaeology.

Steve Harrington: a rich kid from a swanky boarding school with a bad boy reputation and too much charm for his own good.  Surprisingly, his grades say otherwise.  A’s and B’s, his parents claim that is seeking one-on-one tutoring so that he can progress in his studies — but it sounds more like an excuse to ship him off for longer periods of time, giving them an out for having their son around during the summer.  The pretty boy’s all about ladies…but that’s only because he hasn’t met a boy who awakens his bisexuality.  Yet.

Jonathan Byers: a kid from the lower working class, excelling in his studies and AP programs at the same boarding school as Steve which he only got into because of community sponsorship and grants.  Quiet wallflower, little to no friends, a bit cynical.  A closeted gay, he’s more determined to stick with being perceived as “ace” than come out of the closet.  Until he goes to stay at a chateau with a handsome boy, and a beautiful girl who understands him.

Twists, turns and terrifying risks, you all put your hearts on the line that summer at the Chateau. Add the reader's cousin Eddie into the mix, along with her best friend Robin, Steve's ex-girlfriend Nancy, Jonathan's estranged mother and your progressive parents alongside Steve's absent parents -- it's a cruel summer.

But here, together at the chateau, you'll be alright.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊ ⋆SNEAK PREVIEW⋆ ⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ This will be another series of mine, dedicated to my boy. Coming soon.

[excerpt from the story]

There was something about the way you twirled in your sundress that reminded Steve of the bible.

He wasn't religious, nor did he think any god truly loved or believed in him. But here, watching you exist in your garden of eden at the Chateau, the good book almost seemed real.

You resembled something otherworldly.  Heavenly, sent straight from above.  Innocent, yet wise.  Kind, yet strong.  Powerful and delicate at the same time.  Your laugh was soft, feminine and pure.  Your spirit was whole.  Your smile blinded him with joy.  Your beauty was divine, angelic and overwhelming.  You were too much…and yet, you could never be enough.

But that wasn’t because you yourself weren’t enough.  No, rather it was because Steve would never be able to get enough of you.  He could never be close enough.  He could never be near you enough.  He could never tell you enough words that would accurately describe the way that you made him feel.  

The word ‘enough’ simply did not apply when it boiled down to you.  

And yet, as Steve swept you up into his arms — discarding his books and his education down onto the lawn, much more driven to study you — holding you felt like that was all that he would ever need for his life to be considered enough.  The feeling of your waist in his grasp, his strong arms circling your petite torso as your hair flew in the wind of the circle he spun you in, felt like a tornado.  A cyclone, sweeping you both off your feet so that it could take you far away from everything and everyone.  You were this fragile flower in his hands, yet unbreakable.  Real, but too good to be true.  A true story, but a fairytale of the mind.

Jonathan saw you this way — but from a more niche, almost platonic point of view.  It was just as codependent, yet approached with more independence and the ability to exist on his own two feet.  He’d do whatever it took to keep you, no matter what the hell that took.  And he knew that to some degree, a pretty scary degree, that he needed you too.  But he was content with the need.  Satisfied, at peace.  Completely grounded, secure.  Unlike Steve, who smiled out of fear and loved with his whole heart on the line.  Because Byers knew how to be alone.  He knew how to rely on himself, fill his own cup even when it was empty — which was all the time.  Byers was the epitome of “I walk alone.”  The human embodiment of solitude.  He preferred your company, your grace and your presence.  It made him better, and stronger — because he’d known prior how to operate without it.

Harrington didn’t.  Harrington needed someone, all the time.  As an only child, the loneliness had suffocated him in his big house with no parents.  He’d had no one to shush the nightmares away, no one to hold him whenever the monsters felt near.  No one to run to and trust with any secret that he had.  No true friend who would listen to his most intrusive thoughts without casting him away.  No girl that wanted him in the ways that he so desperately sought to be loved, not just lusted after.  Until you came along, sheltering him from all his deepest and darkest fears, childhood traumas and the ever-looming possibility of rejection.  He had been a threat to himself, and you put that threat to rest with just a soft brush of your lips against his knuckles and the touch of your tender hands.  

Whereas with Byers, you made him feel seen but not disturbed.  You allowed him to be present without needing to overcompensate.  You granted him refuge, earning his trust with your actions instead of your words.  He didn’t need your touch to calm him.  Rather, he felt steadied by just knowing that you were here.  You knew that touch was never a friend to Jonathan, which is why you never pushed yourself in.  Instead, he found himself drawn to you.  He didn’t recoil at the physical contact made between the two of you.  A hug, a warm embrace that lingered just an extra second or two.  A gentle squeeze of a hand as you shot him a wistful smile.  The most feather-like of kisses pressed to his cheek to say hello, good morning, good evening or goodnight.  It felt…nurturing.  Assuring, fostering.

Out on the outstretched lawn in front of the Chateau, acreage upon acreage, Jonathan watched your hair gleam underneath the golden glow of the setting sun.  He let the Marlboro in his mouth dangle between his teeth, the curriculum resting upon his lap as the scent of nicotine and fresh air filled his senses.  The mixture of it was perfect for the scene laid out before him: Steve spinning you around, his white collared shirt unbuttoned just enough to wear his tie swung in the breeze as he continued swirling you around like a princess.  And when he’d placed you back onto your feet, he peppered every single inch of your face with an obscene amount of stolen kisses as you giggled like the darling that you so effortlessly are.  Jonathan felt his lips tug upwards at the corner, unable to help himself when it came to the two of you.  His shoulder angel and shoulder devil.

He turned the page of his literature books, revealing his unfinished letter that he’d begun writing at lunch in response to his mother.  Joyce had written to him, asking him to tell her everything about the summer.  How was it in France?  What was it like?  Were the hosts kind, was he being polite towards them?  What about you?  Were the two of you getting along, as well as the other student?

Jonathan glanced up from his scribbled cursive, back at the two of you.  Steve was cupping your cheek, placing a flower in your hair with his free hand before moving to cup your other cheek so that he was cradling your face.  His perfect, sharp nose nuzzled to the tip of yours sweetly.  Jonathan felt his heart swell as the two of you turned to look at him with pure love.  Your arms stretched out towards him, along with Steve’s, beckoning him.  Come play with us.  He grinned at you both wholeheartedly, holding up a hand — which you both knew meant he would, just a little longer.  You’d all learned each others’ love languages by now, along with how to communicate through gestures and expressions.  Body language was all of your specialty, in a multitude of ways that no one else could ever possibly understand.  Jonathan didn’t mind that.  It was only meant for the three of you.

Flicking his cigarette, he glanced back down at the incomplete letter he was ready to finish writing for his mother.  He took his pen, letting the ink spill onto the parchment. He'd already written down things earlier, telling her that your parents had taken them in as their own. He wrote about how much your father made him adore his studies in ways he never had before, and how he'd been inspired to help Steve study alongside him as an assistant tutor of sorts. He wrote to her about an Aperol spritz had somehow become the drink of the summer, using fresh citrus from the gardens of your estate, and how it made uncharacteristically sappy. How you and Steve made him that way too, even without the poison coursing through his veins.

Something about them makes me feel like I can, Mom.  I keep asking myself if this all just a dream.  Or maybe, it’s the past?  Not sure.  Either way, just thought I’d ask.  Not because I am seeking the answer, from you or the universe.  Rather, I’m simply existing and letting it all just happen.  C’est la vie.  I know…so very French. Perhaps I'm running a fever. A lovesick sort of fever.

Jonathan grinned down at his writing with wry amusement at himself.  At his life.

He turned over his shoulder, glancing back at the majestic chateau behind him.  Chateau Chalamet.  Your childhood home. His new home, as of that summer…which was dwindling away, day by day.  Every day that passed meant that he had less time.  All of you were losing time.  He sighed, resuming his writing.

I’ll turn back the time whenever this all ends.  In my mind, this will always be a home away from home.  Which is something I never thought I would say.  I’m not really sure what my future holds.  But it doesn’t really concern me at the moment. Now right now. Right now, I'm at the chateau and I feel alright. Love, Jonathan

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

[saharaadesertt]

˖˚˳⊹Blue Lock University: an Uni AU˖˚˳⊹

included: aiku, chigiri, gagamaru, kaiser, isagi, nagi, reo, rin, sae, shindou

note: already thinking about uni even though i still have two months LMFAOOO i am catching up on bllk and i finally made it to the different team battles. idk y'all manshine city kinda slaps all of these HC's are not official! check out part 2!

aiku

oh god, this guy gives off business major energy

most definitely in a frat, you can't prove me wrong

the kind of student that slacks off and parties all night but manages to do decent on exams and in class

not stellar but decent

insanely popular, gets all the girls but doesn't know how to keep them

the class clown

professors hate him so much but he does well enough where they can't lecture him

chigiri

Sports medicine major: wants to help people the way doctors helped him when he tore his acl

also oversees track and xc meets because of his speed

can be spotted at the cafe studying most of the time

likes to spend time to himself but doesn't mind seeing friends once in a while

but when he has a deadline he will focus on that 1000%

Everyone likes him, he gets good grades and is always very good with finishing things on time

His sister and mom visit him often, a family boy!

loves when people compliment his hair

gagamaru

Agricultural science or archeology major: mans is in the mountains constantly

probably does research there

a little bit of an oddball, mostly on the quiet end in class

that being said, he's an underdog in his class rank and always performs suspiciously well

people are scared of him because of his stoic aura but is a genuinely good person to get advice from and study with

if you get past his quirks, he's a great friend and an ever better person to depend on when you need it

kaiser

please hear me out

at first i thought "another business major but THEN"

i realized he could also be a really self-centered, full of himself STEM major

so i am going to say he is in computer science and thinks he is the true pioneer

honestly, the person that people complain about after class

tryhard and complains about getting a B on something

that being said, if you get on his good side, he is slightly more kind to you

isagi

kind of the same as kaiser but a psychology major, more popular, and much nicer lol

likes to study athletes and wonder if their personalities line up with how they play

a hard worker and studier, his weekends are rarely for rest

likes to go out though, he takes comfort in small things like visiting friends and grocery shopping

believe a healthy body is consistent with a healthy mind so is constantly health-conscious and drinks a ton of water

his parents send him care packages occasionally :))

nagi

this guy is undecided for now major-wise but will probably do something in video game development or digital communication

possibly cybersecurity if he actually wants to put in the work

lazy as hell but we knew this

constantly skips or sleeps in class but manages to do well

reo has to wake him up or call him if he has an early class he cannot miss or an exam or else nagi would legit miss it

isn't seen out much but when he is, he's with reo

fond of arcades, hoodies, and sweatpants

president of the gaming club and is surprisingly popular because of his gaming abilities

i believe him and reo share an apartment that the mikages help with financially because at this point nagi is like a second son to them <3

reo

another business major, this time marketing

president of the uni's business frat for sure

the definition of star student

everyone loves him but he only hold a few close to him because he knows a lot of people gravitate to him for his money

despite his family line, he is the most humble person you'll ever meet

super polite and respectful

he and nagi live in a shared apartment and only a select few friends get to come over

but when they do, reo shows them the best hospitality and above all, they actually study since he is a man of his word

rin

Definitely doing something in sports administration

the tryhard that is usually quiet, but piss him off and he WILL let you know

part of the school's podcast and newspaper club, where he works on reporting sports and talking to athletes

hates to be compared to his brother who is in the same major as him

gets jealous easily and finds it hard to keep a relationship because of this

communication is key for him in all aspects

sae

also sports adminstration

quieter than his brother but also has more attitude

enjoys being alone no matter where on campus he is in

but also popular

an ace student

is a part of a soccer travel team so is away a lot

drinks venti cold brews

shindou

biology... i don't need to explain LMFAOOOO

is VERY interested in all that stuff

actually a good student but is a class clown

doesn't take work seriously but does well enough

befriends everyone although he is a little unhinged

no filter at all

loves sugary coffee and staying up until the sun rises

would be part of the improv team bc he has a quick mouth and is quick thinking

thanks for reading!

[alexxncl]

‼️NIGHTBRINGER LESSON 49 SPOILERS‼️

lesson 76 spoilers

gonna be using race and racism as an allegory and an explanation. don't like, don't read

masterlist | theories/spoilers | all lessons | season 3 | lesson 48.1 | lesson 48.2 | lesson 49.1 | lesson 49.2

(for context, the other response was something along the lines of "he really cried his eyes out, huh?")

regardless of how much luke has grown and matured, he's still a kid. like, a kid kid. they cry when they're upset, when they're angry, when they're throwing a tantrum, and when theyre confused and/or overwhelmed. i feel like the latter might be the case with luke, which is why i chose the "i'm sure he'll be ok" option

luke was raised with ideals that painted everything in black and white, as good and evil, and as right and wrong. up until his time as an exchange student in the devildom, he was, for lack of better phrasing, undeniably racist and prejudice to all of demonkind because of the way the celestial war was taught to him, because he was taught to think that way during some of the most foundational years of his life

he was thrust into a world that forced him to not only unlearn every harmful and incorrect thing that the people he believed knew best, that knew everything there is to know about the world, but it forced him to realize that everything that was taught to him was built on some sort of lie, that the life he'd been leading and the way he'd been treating the demons he interacted with made him act no better than, if not even worse than, the way that angels believed demonkind acted in their everyday life

with all of this in mind, he understood why the brothers fell and became demons. they disobeyed their father for (imo, not at all) selfish reasons and started an all-out war, costing who knows how many lives. while harsh, the punishment could be seen as justified

but with simeon, it was different. he was someone who disobeyed their father by stealing a ring with the intent of saving not just the celestial realm, but all three realms, and was banished to being mortal. being punished for acting selfless, for risking your life and immortality for the sake of billions doesn't make any sense, right?

and what makes even less sense is that despite his good deeds, despite being on the right side of the war, despite being an overall good person with good moral standing, despite already beinh punished to a life of mortality, simeon still is faced with the same fate as people who committed treason against god himself and cost thousands of angels their lives

imagine how hard it would be for a 10-year-old or 12-year-old to understand and process his entire life and moral code being flipped on its head, still working through and unlearning his negative biases, followed immediately by his big brother/pseudo father figure being faced with an unimaginably harsh punishment for a "crime" that shouldn't even be considered a crime

luke, to me at least, is an example of why it's so so important to teach kids at a young age how to live in and interact with the people and the world around them, whether they're part of a marginalized community or not. it's so easy to fall down the alt-right pipeline given how easily accessible the internet is to young boys, and unlearning the prejudices, biases, racism, sexism, misogyny, etc. that those things can teach you is not only extremely difficult, but a long road to walk down

idk how many people are gonna read this, and i doubt that it's gonna go outside of the obey me community, but i felt like i had to talk about it

[vintagegeekculture]

50 Years of Kung Fu Movies

There’s an overlooked anniversary that hasn’t been widely reported much yet: as of March 2023, it’s been 50 years of Kung Fu movies in the United States. 

Bruce Lee was not the first big international Kung Fu movie star. Rather, the first English-dubbed breakout Chinese martial arts movie to become a hit in the greater US (apart from Hawaii) was “5 Fingers of Death” (also called “King Boxer”) in 1973 starring Lo Lieh, six months before Bruce Lee’s “Enter the Dragon” and posthumous fame, making Lo Lieh the first true international Kung Fu star. There were lines halfway around the block at Times Square to see “5 Fingers of Death,” thanks to a radio giveaway in the New York area, and to those who first saw the movie, they remember the very first scene when the 63 year old Kung Fu master started backflipping and kicking out of nowhere and everyone watching this started losing their minds. “Five Fingers of Death” was like “Star Wars” in that it was a movie people saw over and over, minds blown, never having seen a film like this before. 

Because Kung Fu movies were shown in less expensive grindhouse cinemas in urban areas, like seedy, pre-gentrification Times Square in New York, the audience for these films was disproportionately black, and to this day, the black community has a strong connection to 70s Kung Fu movies. Every middle aged black dad today loves this stuff. It isn’t just due to them being shown in inner city theaters, however, or on UHF stations where they were replayed cheaply on Saturdays. Rather, the success of Kung Fu movies in the black community is based on the themes of the movies. Most Kung Fu movies are about poor dishwashing working class underdogs in an unjust system, usually either Japanese Imperial Occupied China, or during the Manchu Dynasty, where China was ruled by despotic foreign conquerors. The heroes bow in humiliation at first, but who secretly take the power back through intensive personal training, blood and sweat and a montage, that lets them stand up to oppressors. As RZA of the Wu-Tang Clan explained: “when we saw these movies about opposing the Manchu Dynasty, it made us think we weren’t the only people in world history that ever went through this.”

When it comes to introducing the genre, “Five Fingers of Death” is a great “first movie,” a pure, emblematic example of what these movies look like. In the very first scene, in Japanese occupied China, an old Kung Fu Master who is our hero’s teacher is pursued by Japanese karate killers, enforcers of the occupation. His student, Lo Lieh, has to learn the iron palm technique in a brutal, bloody, visceral series of training montages to harden his palms to iron, which involve him excruciatingly breaking every finger in them. The themes of vengeance, pursuing justice under occupation, training montages that are as important as the action, and the theme of failing brutally over and over until it “clicks” and you have a miraculous “Eureka!” moment that every teacher recognizes and lives for. It helped it started with the Kung Fu right away....imagine seeing flips and flying kicks for the first time when you’re used to western bar brawls. 

It’s worth noting that, despite being a hugely important moment in pop culture, 5 Fingers of Death was not a hit in Hong Kong, and was not even in the top 10 highest grossing movies of the year. It reminds me of Voltron, which is absolutely unknown and completely obscure in Japan, when elsewhere, it is THE giant robot show. The fact 5 Fingers was a big hit in the US absolutely baffled the Shaw Brothers, who were convinced to part with the rights for their movies for cheap, leading to a flood of Kung Fu movies. Notably, Lo Lieh, though he was the first Kung Fu movie star and a reliable martial arts leading man, did not have much of a career after this in lead roles. His character skills were best served playing villains in Shaw Films, notably as the evil Kung Fu eunuch supervillain, Pai Mei, in “Executioners from Shaolin” and “Clan of the White Lotus.” Tarantino wanted Lo Lieh to reprise his role of Pai Mei in Kill Bill Part 2, only to discover that he died just before filming. 

[echantedtoon]

Until Death Do You Vow Ch2 A Saving Plan

(EDIT: None of the things in the beginning of this chapter is cannon to The Groom of Gallagher Mansion. It's just made up for the story for Y/n's college scenes.

Warnings for mentioned murder, death, and illness.)

"Class, turn to page one hundred and thirty two. Today we'll be reviewing the foundation of our town and the roll it had in the battle of-"

The sounds of many pages turning in the large room as at least fifty students turned to the appropriate places in their textbooks. Others took out note books lined with lots of notes from previous lessons with room for future ones. Pencils and erasers at the ready for the task ahead of taking down important information. Highlighters in bright yellow ready to highlight any very important details hidden in the professor's speeches. Lights dim as the first slides showed in time with the words the professor spoke.

"Now this here is General Markus G. Tuttle. He was one of the founding fathers of our city and first established it with five other men back in sixteen hundreds under the orders of the current reigning monarch of the time."

The current slide showed up a picture of an old painting taken at the city's local museum. It's old pain chipping away but still held together enough to show the picture of a man in his late fifties in a war uniform.  The professor looked up at the slide before adjusting his glasses and looking back at the younger crowd. 

"Who here can tell me who the reigning monarchs were?" Murmurs and coughs were circulated around until one hand raised up in the very back row. He pointed at it after a moment of straining his eyes to see around the dimly lit room. "Yes. You, Y/n!"

"The reigning monarchy during that time was lead by King Cedric Roland Jackson Snider the Forth and his wife Queen Stacia Emily Snider." Your hand slowly lowered after your answer and the professor nodded in approval.

"Excellent! Yes! Both King and Queen during that time funded their exhibition out to the area where our town would first be established. Who can tell me what the original purpose of the exhibition was?" Again unsure looks were given around until once more your hand raised in answer. "Miss Y/n?"

"The original exhibition was to survey the area and establish a trading route halfway through the path leading to the next country, but the fertile grounds and booming wildlife changed their minds into establishing a large farming and hunting community instead."

"Right you are! Yes! The booming wildlife untouched by most of mankind is what drew them to that idea when first coming to the area! After discovering most of the untouched riches that lay within the surrounding forests and the nutrients in the ground, General Markus Tuttle had it in his mind to return and convince the reigning monarchy into establishing a community and improving the agriculture of the country's economy. Now who can tell me the original name of the town?" You waited to see if someone else would raise their hand and someone else did. A boy in the very front row. "Yes, Charlie!"

You didn't bother interrupting and only listened to the professor continue his lesson and turn to the next slide which was a picture of some old relics from the same time as the founding of the town. You busied yourself by writing down words in the notebook you always took with you during these classes. The words forever being inscribed upon the surface of the paper with ink- Something poked your arm making you pause.

"Psst. Hey, Bud. I gotta tell you something."

Tired f/c eyes deadpanned looked at the mitchmatched eyes of the man sitting next to you blinking behind glasses. A head of red hair met you as he again poked your upper arm.

"What, Taylor?," you whisper hissed back to him voice low to avoid drawing attention. "I'm trying to take notes here. You should be taking notes too! You have no idea if this'll be on the finals!"

Taylor, your best friend and dorm buddy, didn't seemed phased by your words in the slightest and only whispered back. "We need to talk about the OHSIC. It's important!"

"We're having a meeting anyways tonight. You can wait until then."

"WHAT?! BUT THAT'S STILL HOURS AWAY-"

"Mr. Potts." The professor gave a look of silent disapproval as the lesson paused. A good few heads also turned to stare at the seemingly frozen red head next to you suddenly in the spotlight. "Is there something so important that you have to disrupt my lesson? If so please share it with the class."

In an instant Taylor's face went an embarrassed red and he shook his head no. "N-NO! I was just-...Uh. A-Asking to borrow a pencil! Yeah!"

The professor narrowed his heads. "Well then next time ask quietly or better. Next time actually come prepared and not disrupt the class. Now then. " He turned back to the board. "As I was saying, most of the earliest population consisted of farmers and their families and their farm hands and their families. However there was a couple dozen larger plantations usually owned by the wealthier families of the time. One of the most famous ones being-"

Taylor gave a sigh of relief as the faces of their classmates turned away from them and focused back onto the lesson the professor was giving.

"I told you. Just wait until all our classes are finished and we'll talk at the weekly meeting. Ok?" You looked back to the notebook after giving Taylor a quick reassuring pat on the hand.

His cheeks turned back to the faint color of pink before he pulled his hands back and looked away. "F-Fine. But don't take too long."

You only smiled at his pouty tone. You were used to it by now though. It's just how Taylor was ever since you both met two years ago in your first year of college. You both just happened to be taking the same classes as each other two of them being Local History and Folklore Studies, also known as Folkloristics. It was the study of all aspects of culture, particularly material culture or the products of a society. Or in other words local folklore, myths, and legends. And in this city there was certainly quite a lot. You weren't sure why but you were always fascinated by the paranormal and fantasy sides of things. You supposed that's what drew you both together as friends. Granted Taylor was WAY more into the cryptozoology parts than you were but it was still a  thing you two could bond over. Local History and Folklore Studies were the best ways to find out about any spooky happenings that were around the city and a way for you to study for that job you wanted. You were hoping to get a job ast the local museum and become a writer on the side. What better way to achieve both your passions? Which was also why you took the Language Art classes the University offered. 

But you weren't expecting to make a friend in Taylor but it was easier when you both realized you had a lot in common and you saw each other so often. Taylor may have been eccentric, quote 'nerdy', and over passionate about everything he was passionate about but he was honestly one of the easiest guys to talk to you've met. 

Other than Ia-.....

Anyways- It was sorta hard not to be friends with him and hang out with him especially when you both stayed in the same dorm building on campus. It was halfway through the first year of college that he made his club and by the second year you agreed to joining after he practically begged you to. It was a pleasant distraction after all you've been through, and you could rely on Taylor to at least be there for you. Even if he could be a lot, he was a good friend you could count on. 

The rest of the classes were spent on collecting notes as usual with each one but you noticed that Taylor seemed more anxious and impatient about something the more time had passed. Guess whatever it was was eating at him a lot. So when you're last class ended for the day and you gathered your things, it shouldn't have surprised you when Taylor grabbed your arm practically dragging you behind him pushing past people and giving you both dirty looks as he pushed through the crowds.

"Taylor! What the heck?! You dug in your heels and yanked your hand from his with a frown. "What are you trying to do? Pull my arm outta socket?"

"Y/n, class is over! You gotta-"

"Stop by my dorm room and put my books away!" You frowned. "Not to mention I left the notes for the next meeting on my desk."

"That can wait! We gotta talk NOW!! It's a matter of life and death for the club!"

Your brow rose. "I doubt that but fine. I'm gonna go put my stuff away and grab the notes. Just go and I'll meet you at the library as usual." You turned away and began walking.

"I- You- BUT- ...RRRRRR!!" He gripped his head before stomping off making you roll your eyes at his antics. 

Always so dramatic about things. You were sure whatever it was it wasn't as bad as he was making it out to be-

"THEY'RE GONNA SHUT DOWN THE OHSIC!!!"

Ok. Maybe you were mistaken.

You had just arrived with the small notebook you set aside just for OHSIC meetings and you were just expecting to go over your failed attempt to pull in more members by handing out homemade flyers and go over more ways to get members when Taylor grabbed you by the shoulders when you first stepped foot in the University library. His panicked voice echoed in your face. 

...You blinked. "What?"

"The Union Chairman said he's going to take away all the funding and space for the club because we haven't been retaining members!" Hr finally let go of you and began to pace as you blinked shaking your head. "'The space is being utterly wasted on us'. Can you believe that stupid pig faced jerk?!"

"Taylor, keep it down. We're in the library. Do you want us to get kicked out of here too?" 

Your frown seemed to cut through his rambles because he sighed and rubbed his face. "No. Sorry I guess. B-But we gotta do something!"

"Ok. Time out!" You held up your hands in a 'T' shape making Taylor once again as a hand pointed at him. "Back up to the beginning. What's going on?"

Taylor blinked before groaning which turned into a sigh. "This morning. I-I got called into a meeting with the Union Chairman." He motioned his hands around with a scowl. "He basically said he's going to shut down the club if we don't get members soon and FAST!"

Your face contorted into one of shock . Well you couldn't say you were too surprised by the outcome. The club has had trouble retaining membership for a while now with the only consistent members being Taylor who was the founder and you being the vice president of only because you were the only other member who showed up. Mostly only because it was a good distraction for what happened two years ago (even if you had gotten over it by now) and because you felt bad for Taylor putting in so much work into the club. 

"Really? I wasn't expecting it to happen this soon. I thought they would've waited at least until this Christmas break before deciding to drop funding."

"You knew this would happen?!"

"Not so soon but eventually. The club's been in in hot water for a while now Taylor."

He growled again running his hands over his face and messy red locks screwing up his glasses. "They said they wanted to use our space for the JUGGLING CLUB!! THE JUGGLING CLUB!! Can you believe that?!"

You rose a brow at Taylor's logic. By his logic clowns juggle things. Clown are scary and evil. Therefore by default the juggling club was scary and evil. Maybe that's what had gotten to him the most and made him so angry? Either way you just shook your head and sighed.

"Well the whole point of today's meeting was to figure out new ways to get new members anyways." You lightly waved the notebook in your hands. "So do you want to start the meeting now and see if we can figure something out?"

He lit up fixing his glasses and turning. "Right then! Vice prez, let's get brainstorming!" You rolled your eyes and followed Taylor to a hidden table in the back between a few shelves where he sat down. "Alright! Roll call! Say here if you're present!"

"Taylor, we're the only ones here. *sigh* But here."

"Here! All members of the OSHIC are accounted for. As club president I dub this meeting started! Now that's out of the way, it's time to get down to business!" He pointed at you . "We need to start finding new members to save the club fast! Any ideas?"

"Not a single one." You dropped the notebook on the table and gestured to it. "We've tried everything and nothing's worked. At least nothing long term. I've written it all down here and we've been through it over and over again."

He groaned slumping over to press his face against the table. "Great. This is just what we wanted today....What if we put an ad on the University's web page?"

"We tried that. Ten times in the last two years." Taylor groaned muffled by the table again. "What if we do a ghost story contest? Maybe that might attract a few people from the writing classes."

"Not a bad idea but what would we use as a prize? Between us both we both got like twenty bucks to spare and I don't think hand me down furniture and broke college kid ramen is a very enticing prize."

It was your turn to sigh. He was right about that part. "It's too bad we don't just have something cool like a magic wand like Cinderella's fairy godmother or something really cool like some alien tech. We'd be getting hundreds of members and some money offers too. But that only happens in movies."

"Yeah...Hey. Wait a sec." Taylor's head lifted up from the wooden table as his eyes widened, glasses crooked. "That's it!" You jumped as he suddenly leaned back up smacking his hands onto the table. "That is it!"

"Uh...What is?"

"Most of the people leave the club because it's not enticing enough or they get bored, but if we can actually get some actual proof that the paranormal exists then that'll make more people more interested!"

Your brows rose again. "Uh huh. And how exactly are we supposed to do that? We haven't actually been able to get anything besides some muffled audio recordings from the ghost investigations you had us do. And even that won't be convincing to most people."

Taylor laughed awkwardly looking away nervously. "Ahaha. Rrriiiight. *Ahem* Anyways-" he quickly changed the subject. "This town's huge! There's gotta be at least ONE paranormal hotspot that we can take advantage of! All we gotta do is find one and get some proof and BINGO!! CLUB'S SAVED!!"

"That's your plan?"

He placed one hand on his hip frowning. "You got any better ideas?"

"Touche. But how are we going to get proof? It's not like we can just waltz into the woods and ask Bigfoot and the forest elves to pose for us."

Despite chuckling at your words Taylor spoke with a serious voice. "We'll just have to do a little research! And lucky for us we're in the best sort of lace for studying!" He gestured to the walls around him as if to answer his own words. "C'mon! There's not a moment to lose! I'll check out the computers and see if there's anything interesting we missed! You scan the shelves!"

Your face deadpanned as he was already standing up to make his way to the nearest computer. Of course you'd get the harder job. You sighed and with a roll of your eyes you stood up to go browse the shelves. By now you already knew where most of ghost stories and haunted history books were so it was so easy to walk over towards the shelf and pulled out the first book that might be useful in your search titled 'Real Hauntings and Unsolved Murders'. Cue ten minutes later of you flipping through the pages as Taylor was... somewhere around here also assumedly researching. 

"... Hey! There's a bus station where someone was murdered twenty years ago. They say his face was pale and looked like he saw the devil himself before he died." You called out looking up at the rows of shelves. "You wanna try and have a seance there? Maybe we can conjure something up."

There was a moment before Taylor leaned back in his chair to poke his head out three shelves down from you. His nose crinkled as he shook his head. "Nah. It'd be weird if we just lit candles up and used a ouija board at a public bus stop. Someone might even call the police and get us in trouble. Besides it's too noisy and crowded there. Even if we did get anything it'd be hard to make out from the noise mess." His head disappeared and you sighed. 

Unfortunately he did have another good point. Back to the books. You skimmed through the rest of the book which was mostly uninteresting old murders and legendary ghost stories from around the world which weren't helpful to you. So you placed it back and picked up another book titled 'Cryptids of The Century.' You flipped through the first chapter talking about the author and her experiences before skimming the stories told. 

"..Taylor!"

"Yeah?," his voice called back to you.

"You remember that old pond that used to be by the park?"

"Yeah?"

"They say a siren lives there. You wanna try and see if we can get anything from there?"

Another small pause. "Didn't they drain the pond and fill it in to expand the park's playground on top of it?"

You wanted to smack your face. Instead you sighed. "Right. I forgot about that. I'll keep looking. Any luck on your end?"

"No dice," he called back, "I've been scanning through every search pop up in our area but most of it are things we already checked out, proven to be fake, or don't have enough backing to be worth the effort. UGH! I didn't think finding at least one good haunting experience would be this hard!"

"Keep looking, Taylor. I'm sure we'll find something." You looked back to the book. "Even if we gotta dig through the boring haunts, we'll find something to use."

There was more silence as you flipped through a few pages talking about an alleged unicorn sighting from over a hundred years ago when Taylor hummed again loudly in thought. 

"Boring haunts. Hey. I think you might have something there!" You looked up from the book but didn't see him. "It just crossed my mind!"

"What did?"

The sounds of a chair scraping could be heard before Taylor appeared standing up and smiling excitedly. "Something we've never done before!" Your face looked even more confused so he continued to explain excitedly holding up his hands. "Okay, okay. Here's the plan! You know that old house way out there on the corner of town? That old Gallagher place where all those deaths and murders happened ages ago?"

You paused for a long moment before you understand what he was talking about. "Wait. You mean the old Gallagher Mansion?"

He nodded excitedly with a bright smile. "Don't you see? We've never checked it out! We all thought it was too boring. Too bland. Too.. vanilla. But no! Maybe we made a mistake trying to find new things when we've left the biggest stone in town unturned!"

You hummed again at his words before staring down at the book you still held in deep thought. That... wasn't a too bad of an idea. You both really hadn't been there before as everyone knew it's reputation quite well around here. It's a hot spot for college dorks to drink and hope no one notice, an occasional haunted house for paranormal investigators, and home to a few basic ghost stories a lot of the older locals take pride in. Heritage and horror in one neat package. Other times it was an attraction for the tourists' haunted tours during Halloween but mostly it was just one of the older abandoned houses around here. There was a few but most were in the woods where the forest drew over the abandoned parts of the earlier town. 

"That's an idea I'll give ya that." The book closed before you pointed at him. "But there's been TONS of investigations done there and no one's really proven anything's there. Plus people use that old place for parties all the time and no one's really came back with ghost encounters. Even if they did, it just could've easily been a hallucination from the booze they always have at those parties."

"I know but isn't it worth at least one shot?" He countered back. "We've never even tried to see the place before and who knows. Maybe the ghosts never revealed themselves to anyone partying because they don't like it. Would you want to talk to a whole bunch of drunk college jocks if you were a ghost?"

"Probably not. But I guess that's a fair enough point. There's no harm by looking at it I guess."

Taylor happily lit up with a wide grin and held up a hand. "Right then! Vice Prez, tonight we're hitting the books! Research like your life depends on it!"

You sighed placing your book back on the shelf. It'd be a long night you could see. "You're lucky you're my friend. Go look up the mansion on the computer, I think I already know the book I need."

"Right! This will be what saves the club! I just know it!"

You rolled your eyes as Taylor disappeared again and went to pull out the book you needed. A book titled 'Unusual Murders and Mysteries.' You remembered there was two whole big chapters dedicated to the Gallagher Mansion when you skimmed through it once trying to research good ghost hunting spots for the club. You opened it up and turned the pages until they got to the parts you needed. Stopping and carefully beginning to read the words written there. Meanwhile Taylor typed away at the keyboard quickly. You just turned the first page when Taylor shouted again.

"Eureka! I found them!" Taylor's shout caught your attention enough to walk over and peep around the shelf at his smiling face. He smiled at you before looking back to the bright screen where a web page was open to a black and white old photo of a grand mansion and the article under it. "According to this...The Gallaghers were a well off military family from Europe who came to America in the mid eighteen hundreds." He scrolled down more giving you the summery of the large article before stopping on another article next to two old black and white photos of an older couple. "Archibald Gallagher, the family patriarch, found success as a cornmeal Barron. He married a woman named Mildred and together they had a total of.." He paused again to scroll down more until he stopped on a bigger black and white photo. It was the older couple again and seven younger men and women whom looked about your's and Taylor's age. "Seven children."

"Wow. Quite the large family." You commented looking at the large family portrait. 

Taylor shrugged. "It was normal during those days to have large families. But all of the Gallaghers were quite exceptional except for-"

"Elias right? That's the ghost that's rumored to haunt the mansion."

Taylor nodded. "He would be.." His eyes squinted at the old family Portrait before pointing out one person that stood behind who you assumed to be one of his sisters sitting in a chair and between two tall men who must've been his brothers. You could barely make him out from the crowded photo. "That one there. Elias was born the black sheep of his family. All of his other other siblings were born healthy and strong, but Elias's birth came with a lot of complications."

"He was bedridden for most of his childhood right?"

Again Taylor nodded. "Pretty much the epitome of the sickly Victorian child trope."

You frowned. "I don't think it should be talked about like that."

He shrugged before moving onto the next paragraph of the article. "They all died under mysterious circumstances other than Elias who's death was arguably the most normal out of all the family deaths if you can count murder normal."

"How though?"

"Well a lot of rumors say it's cuz of a curse, but nobody can agree why they were cursed to begin with. The eldest died in a freak accident involving a horse and from there it's a chain reaction of freak accidents in short susession, completely unrelated to the previous deaths but without fail it would kill the next eldest child like a couple of dominoes hitting them in some pretty gruesome ways." Taylor looked almost pitiful at the dates of deaths and the causes of the deaths listed next to the names of each Gallagher family member. 

"That's got to be so hard on the family dealing with so much tragedy."

"I don't think Archibald and Mildred were too happy to write Elias down as their sole heir after his brothers and sisters all passed on but somehow he managed to dodge the curse. At least until his own death when he was murdered but he still managed to outlive his parents too." He squinted at more of the deaths listed in the article. "Also not too long after rewriting the will both of them died during a bridge collapse on what was supposed to be a calm carriage ride. Same energy as scented candles setting fire to your apartment."

"That part about him surviving for so long is a big strange." You hummed. "Why would the curse skip the youngest sibling and go after his parents only to then come back for him?"

"There was and still is speculation about Elias spinning elaborate murder schemes to take down his family but here's the thing." Taylor rubbed his chin in thought. "Elias had few people to write too and even fewer people who'd write back. According to this, Elias became a permanent shut in after becoming head of the entire Gallagher Estate. I'd probably do that too if it was me."

You nodded in agreement. "Who wouldn't after something like that happened to you? But..Elias was killed himself wasn't he?"

"Yep! Murdered."

"By who?"

"That would be.." Taylor scrolled down more. "Gerald and Violet Dupont. According to this, Gerald Dupont was the Gallagher's groundskeeper and after the death of the rest of his family he introduced Elias to his sister, Violet Dupont, as a fellow heiress without a partner. You can guess what happened after that."

"The whole courting thing, proposing, and a romantic fairytale wedding right?'

He waved a hand. "Everything but the wedding part. According to these old newspaper clippings-" He again gestured to the screen. "Elias died the night before his wedding ceremony while the Duoonts were caught red handed tearing the mansion apart looking for the family's fortune."

"Wait. I know this part." Taylor looked up at you as you flipped through the still open book in your hands. "He was found with his head decapitated from his body using an axe and the Duponts were arrested on charges of murder. Without anyone else to claim the property it was soon abandoned after Elias's burial."

"What a way to go huh?"

You nodded. "And selfish. To murder just to steal a poor man's family legacy. They must've taken advantage of his own grief."

Taylor nodded before looking back at the screens. "Which is why besides ghost hunting, we'll also see if we can find out where the fortune is. Treasure hunting isn't our primary goal but it's still worth looking out for."

You nodded. "Good idea. Even if we don't find any ghosts, finding a legendary fortune would also make us famous but are you sure there's even any treasure? I mean wouldn't someone have found it by now?"

"All these old newspaper clippings keep mentioning how big the inheritance was but some assets were never accounted for in the banks. Rumor has it that the Gallaghers kept some of it hidden on the estate."

"Alright but those are just rumors. That doesn't really mean there's a treasure and that doesn't necessarily mean there's a ghost either."

Taylor hummed. "Maybe but we have to try."

"That's another thing." The book closed with a thud and pointed at him. "If no one's ever seen the ghost, or at least recently-" The rumors had to have started from somewhere. So there might've been a ghost at one point or a long time ago someone THOUGHT they saw the ghost of Elias Gallagher. "-how are we going to get him to show up for us? No other investigation has ever been successful and no one else has claimed to see him."

Taylor legitimately looked shocked at the revelation before again he hummed and a hand rubbed his chin. "That's... Actually a fair point. Even if he's there he might just want to be left alone and not talk to anyone."

"So there's no way we could get him to talk even if he supposedly was there? Great. That's another dead end." You turned to leave but stopped when Taylor's hand grabbed yours.

"Wait a sec. ... Maybe it's not WHY. Maybe it's a matter of how and when!" He turned to you as you blinked confused. "Think. Why would Elias want to talk to anyone? Drunk people party in his home and investigators usually come demanding he show himself. So maybe it's just how we go about trying to communicate with him, and when. And it just so happens that this week happens to be one of the best days to do a ghost hunt! What's the last day of this week?"

"Um...Friday?"

"Friday THE THIRTEENTH!," Taylor corrected you with a bright smile. "Paranormal activity increases more on Friday the Thirteenth more than any other day of the year except for Halloween! And not only that! This Friday the Thirteenth is supposed to be a blood moon! Which also increases paranormal activity. And on top of BOTH of those it's also gonna be a FULL MOON too! How lucky can we get? The moon being in its fullest cycle is said to increase in power. This is like the best combination possible!"

You blinked at him before slowly nodding. "Ok. That's all really good conditions. But even with all of that and even if we ask him really nicely, all that stuff still doesn't guarantee anything. If that was true then that crew who did the investigation on All Hallows Eve, which is arguably more powerful than Friday the Thirteenth, would've gotten something."

Again Taylor hummed in thought looking you over, then back to the computer screen, then back to you gears whirling in his head. Before he smiled very widely and in a way you didn't like. "Oh I think I have an idea. Get ready, Bud! We're gonna investigate the old dump! I just know there's something we can find in there. It's our last hope!"

[ink-dreams-ffxiv]

I admit...

@sea-wolf-coast-to-coast Writing Challenge has always been an inspiration for me to write. 90% of my "RP style Writing" is done in either Discord or In-Game. My most recent RP endeavors have been through: https://iyalibeauty.carrd.co/ Outside of that, the mental fog that COVID has left me with made writing difficult. Most of the prompts I was able to do for #FFXIVWrite2024 were due to short ideas I had already in mind. This time around, I had not only a character idea, but, the idea that the character was not in the WOL position, but, on an educational thesis regarding "Sharded People", IE: people who were part of the same "Shard" living in the same occurrence ((IE: People on the Source, who were parts of the same Shard of a person. Rather than being Shards of the "1St and Source" but both being Shards of the Source based on in-game RP)) Now that the #FFXIVWrite2024 has passed, I am at a loss of inspiration. My screenshots are all accidental. I was more of a creative writer, but have really been lacking not only inspiration, but, drive to be more creative with my writing. This isn't a request for inspiration, just, an observation of why my Tumblr seems to really drop off now. As for my OCs: Sahxa is very happily married to her Snowcatte Rocker Paladin of a wife with twin Miqo'kitts. Rehna, who is really my WoL character, is happily mated with her Viera lover, and a student of Sharlayan now, on research for her Archon status. Lhei, has attached himself to a Miqo'te Dragoon, and is in the process of working towards Ishgardian Citizenship. Kohl, well, her story line is VERY NSFW and limited ;) I do have 3 alts: One is for Screen Shot Crimes only. The 2nd is the character I use for spontaneous RP, though the issues with creativity had greatly limited her story line, she is the most adaptable. The 3rd, is a "Single Class" character with a growing backstory based on the lore openings created by Dawntrail. I may be slow to answer, but, random asks based on anything listed above will be answered. This isn't a "give me attention!" post, just a heads up, for those I have been interacting with more. As an aside: @nhaneh has an AMAZING! ship! their screenshots, and image story telling is absolutely Beautiful! @alannah-corvaine has been someone I have followed since my very beginning on FFXIV tumblr and has often been an inspiration to my own writing. @autumnslance is a storyteller who is just so skilled in their writing, I can't say enough. They too have been a huge inspiration to my writing. @hares-and-hounds is a new follow, who also has proven to be in depth with their story telling, and they have a new FC worth looking in to. @fheythfully just seems to throw up Screen shots that make my brain write up short stories based around those screen shots. Though, I have only put up One based on a screen shot, my mind has created so many many more, but, they require God Modding their characters and I don't want to do that. @gatheredfates has an entire discord that I need to get over my anxiety and join. They encourage writing!

@mythraltia was a great person to RP with on Tumblr. We never got the chance to RP in game, but, it was admittedly In-Game RP that caused me to take the character I was playing in a very different direction, I have never forgotten how much, and how easy it was to be on the same page with our RP.

There are many many others to explore in the FFXIV community! From Slice of Life stories/RP, to long term Stories/RP, and one shot encounters! There is an Entire World out there! Enjoy your Explorations!

[mysticalsoot]

peer pressure and canned beer

oh? yet, another fic of my self-indulgent boarding school au

A/N; lilly and I came up with this idea when we were sad so it's very angsty and I'm still very set on it so- do not do what wilbur does, maybe don't pick a fight with a drunk guy, and please for the love of god DO NOT KISS YOUR EX ESPECIALLY WHEN YOU'RE IN A RELATIONSHIP okay that's my disclaimer (also maybe communicate w your partner-) ooooh also!! there will be a part 2!! i just have to write it! also a quiet lil ty to everyone that helped me describe canned beer, yall are lifesavers<33

summary; wilbur gets convinced to hang out with some kids on another team. he gets peer pressured a bit, gets drunk, makes a mistake and when he sees you back in the dorm building, he makes a few more

tw// swearing, underage drinking, peer pressure, kissing, undertones of cheating, may is a bitch, some homophobia if you read between the lines

words; 3k

pairings; cc!wilbur x gn!reader

pronouns; none!

masterlist

--------------

Wilbur rarely ever found himself in situations where he would be pressured by his peers into anything. He was a wanderer who enjoyed his quiet time on the edge of situations, a watcher. A hawk--or at least you called him a hawk. He liked to observe, note everyone's behavior. From their body language, to the tone of voice they would use, to how they use words--he noticed it all, and he noted it all as well.

But when it came to people's intentions, he was alot worse at being as aware as he is with other things. It wouldn't be the first time he'd get peer pressured into something without realizing he was being pressured in the first place. He wouldn't be able to tell someone had malicious intent, especially if they held a smile, like most shit people do.

So all in all, when Wilbur told you a group of boys from another team had asked him to hang out with them, you were a smidge worried. Wilbur didn't clarify who these boys were, but he seemed excited when he told you so you smiled and uttered a small "That's awesome, bee!" and told him to go have fun.

This wasn't fun.

Well, it wouldn't be for you.

But for Wilbur? He was being accepted into another group, he was more a part of his peer group, of his school--or this is what he felt. He wasn't sure.

"Come on, William! Loosen up!" One of the boys, by the name of Dan, smirks as he lifts the beer up and towards Wil's direction. He tries to hide the grimace building up on his face as he looks at the beer and decides to take it in his hand. He pops the tab and takes a sip, groaning after he swallows it. Its disgusting, that's what conclusion Wilbur has come to. He can't tell if it tastes like nasty rust water or stale piss. Either way, it's fucking disgusting.

"That's- god, that's gross," Wilbur shakes his head as he grimaces, nearly gagging at the aftertaste and memory of it.

"Cheap bear is gross," Another student in this group speaks, a girl this time. The one Wilbur noticed you always had a distaste for, the one that made you insecure. He feels like he remembers hearing something about this girl, May. Maybe about her liking him? He wasn't sure what but what he was sure of? This girl couldn't like him. Not a chance.

"That's a fucking understatement," Wilbur giggles slightly before hiccuping.

"So, William-" 

"You can just call me Wil, that's fine."

"Okay, Wil- how's it in the loser group?" Yet another student, there's only about five besides Wilbur, but too many for Wilbur's tipsy mind to make note of at once. The boy's name he seems to remember being Sammy, which he feels doesn't fit him. Chad or Brian would fit the bill and he has to hold back giggles at that thought.

"Loser group?" Wilbur asks almost incredulously, eyebrows knitted in a confused expression. 

"Yeah, what's it called- Team Andromeda?" The one with the teacher's pets, those gay kids- everyone knows Andromeda is where the weirdos get placed, y'know?" Something about Sammy's voice started to grind his gears, but his mind was so muddled he couldn't get very angry, so he sighed.

When Sammy mentioned the "gay" kids, it really rattled him. It made his blood boil, he wanted to yell and punch and scream at this kid. But he had to restrain himself, these other guys weren't so bad. 

"I don't think they're that bad, I'm on Andromeda." Wilbur shrugs, looking down at the can he holds, trying to keep himself composed and for the most part--it works.

"Well, you aren't one of them. You don't fit there." May pipes in, a sickeningly sweet smile on her face. If it wasn't for how.. icky the conversation made Wilbur felt, the smile would be soft and sweet in his eyes. But his nauseated stomach at the words that cross his ears, skews his view of the word with green tinted glasses.

"Come on, let's not dwell on those kids-- just drink, have fun! Let loose!" Another kid, Dean, speaks up. He feels a lot less.. venomous. He seems kinder and as if he doesn't hold the same hurtful opinions as the others do.

"Why don't we do truth or dare?" Sammy smirks from behind his beer can, eyes glistening with mischief and the mere look makes Wilbur want to projectile vomit, but maybe that's because he's nearly finished off his own beer. Stale piss water.

Wilbur shrugged as various confirmations of agreements are muttered, a few 'sure's and a couple 'alright's were scattered between. 

"How about…" Sammy eyes the group and when his attention lands on Wilbur, he smirks, "You, Wil- truth or dare?" 

Something sunk into Wilbur's stomach, it felt like all of his internal organs--but it was probably just his heart. This didn't sit right with him, maybe he was being targeted? But his mind was so fogged and swimmy from the alcohol--his beer can was empty and he'd started on a new one. His logic flew out the window long ago.

"Uhm…" Wilbur takes a moment to think or rather, he pauses and looks down, his mind a blank slate without a scratch written. He lifts his head, tilting it to the side for a moment before he slurs confidently, "Dare."

Sammy nods as he eyes Wilbur up and down before he speaks again, much clearer than any words Wilbur could possibly dream to muster, "I dare you…" He trails off as his eyes glance over at May, who was sitting beside Wilbur, "To kiss May."

Wilbur knew it was coming before the words had even been spoken. God, he wished he could erase the entirety of eighth grade from history right about now. He then turned to face May, her cheeks flush pink as she tugs on his sleeve. Everything in his heart was screaming for him to stop, to run away and get as far from this situation that he could. To find you and wrap you in his arms and kiss all over your face and apologize for everything he could've possibly ever done--but his logic is out the window and god-- his body feels like quicksand and he can barely move.

It happens so quickly he doesn't know how it even starts, or who initiated what. But now his lips are on hers and they're kissing and it's much too deep for his liking. He should be kissing you, under lamplight in the dorm, sighs and giggles muffled between lips and mouths. Hands exploring each other innocently and with that sweet spark of love.

Yet instead, here he is with his hand behind May's head, his lips intertwined with hers and her tongue in his mouth. This is horrible, he's decided. He's vowed to never drink again, and never touch lips with anyone but you. But he doesn't stop, he doesn't pull away. He's enticed, he's enraptured by it. Its new, but old. He's kissed her before, not like this of course. But he has kissed May, years ago. This now feels foreign and exciting and new. 

That guilt crawls up him, makes him sick and he finally pulls away. His lips curled in a grimace, when May's curl into a smile. His face has a green tint, and hers has a pink sheet of color. They mirror each other in completely opposite ways. She kissed him because she wanted to.

He kissed her because he felt trapped.

It wasn't more than an hour longer that he hung out with them, it got late and there were enough sightings of leadership staff to scare all of them back to the dorms. Which by enough, was two. And they were leaving work. Either way, Wilbur found his way to the side door of the dorm building. The front is always open but Wilbur felt that it was too obvious and he was much too drunk to risk getting caught so he walked over to the side door, hunkered down and texted you.

wilb&lt;3 2:45am // by sidef dooorr, pls get me

you 2:46am // wtf are u doing there??

you 2:46am // be down in a sec, hang tight

He shut his phone off and tucked it in his pocket after smiling at his messages. He leaned against the outer wall and slunk down to the ground. His mind felt like sludge, his body felt like bags of rocks were weighing him down and the way his eyelids kept slipping shut wasn't helping either.

A moment later and his shoulder was being shook by you, eyes shooting open only to glance at your worried expression. Concern plastered on your face and all your eyes saw was a mess of the boy you loved. Face tinted green with splotches of red, eyes glazed over and somehow-- lip gloss on his lips? Its messy and it looks like-- 

Your heart sinks. He kissed her. Or maybe, she kissed him, he couldn't hurt you like that. Even drunk, he had a heart and logical thinking.

Words weren't spoken as you help him to his feet, practically dragging him to the elevator that no one actually uses but comes in handy now. Your boyfriend's arm slung over your shoulders and his lips messily kissing the side of your hair as his words slur.

"Love you sooo much, baby-" It hurts to hear it, to hear the promises of love as he's so desperately drunk. The elevator is slow so as you hold him beside you, you keep yourself from snapping. Maybe a little prying won't hurt, will it?

"So, what happened?" Your voice is low and soft, a mere whisper as the elevator dings, signifying being on the second floor. Another two to go.

"Mm- Nothin' jus' truth or dare-" He slurs, leaning against you.

"So you didn't kiss May, then?" 

Something flips in him, some sort of mild regulator switch flips and he clears his throat. Now leaning away from you as he looks around the elevator, somehow a bit more sober as he speaks, "And if I did?"

"I'd worry about you. I am worried about you." 

Ding, third floor. Almost there.

"Its not like it matters, so what if I kissed a girl?" He snips, tone sharp and quick as he fully leans off you, standing on his own almost as if he hadn't a drop of alcohol. You knew that wasn't true, and you hoped he was shit faced drunk when it happened. You knew it happened.

"You'd be cheating if you had. It isn't right, okay?" Your voice is so even, clear and regulated. You keep your composure and his only cracks more.

"Just forget about it, nothing happened. Just leave it the fuck alone." He huffs slightly as the elevator dings and the doors slide open, you both step out and you lead him over to the bathroom to help him clean up just a bit.

It didn't last long when he pulled out of your grasp, "Why don't you just leave me alone and stop prying? Jesus- May was right." He mutters the last part as he stares daggers into you, and you move to walk beside him as he finds his way by your dorm room.

"Can you just tell me what the fuck is wrong?" You're breaking, cracking at the seams more and more as every word of his slips past his lips. Enraging you with every syllable.

And now, with his snarl and angered stare, you felt like an afterthought at that moment, and you wondered if that was his goal. Snapping at you, disregarding your concerns and feelings you were bringing to him. Suits you to argue with a drunk guy.

"You're too fucking obsessed with me anyways-- You're always hanging off me like some desperate lost puppy. I swear- It'd be better if you just left me alone." He rolls his eyes as he stumbles into the dorm, despite his louder than proper reaction, no one stirs or makes any noticeable action.

"I'm obsessed with you and she's not?" Your eyebrows knit in confusion as your lips curl into a frown, frustration boiling up inside you, soon to turn to anger.

He leans against the doorframe, rolling his eyes in a dramatic and drunk way as he huffs, "Yes, yes you are. At least she respects my boundaries," He shrugs as he steps back into the dorm and you feel tears prick at your eyes, frozen in place and boiling with anger, the frustration completely gone. Now you're just hurt.

"She manipulated you and forced you to go out with her and her asshole friends! You want to know something? Those guys you just spent two hours with and had so much fucking fun with? Fucking bullied me since middle school!" You step back, so close to walking away but you need this last word, just something to make him realize, "But you wouldn't know that, would you? You're too in your head to know anything about me!" It seems unrelated, and to him it was. But to you, his words were the last straw. You were done.

"Bullied you? I never took you for the delusional kind."

If it was possible, your jaw would be dislocated and on the floor, but instead you drew your lips into a thin line and let the tears ricochet.

"Fine- Y'know what? Go date May instead- get back with her, see what happens, huh?" Your blood boils as you speak through hot tears and you feel regret surging through you as you shut the door for him, turning on your heel and down the hall. It's a night to sneak into your dad's dorm.

He doesn't wake as you carefully creak the door open, tiptoeing in and finding a spot in the chair in the corner. Not caring or bothering with pillows or blankets, it isn't like you'll be getting much sleep.

Your eyes locked on the walls of the dark room, your mind replaying the last ten minutes like a broken record. You couldn't escape it, the guilt, the fear, the hurt. Your tears were silent but they had no plan of stopping as they fell down your face in clumps of salty water. Your throat felt like it was going to shut, sore and aching as you held back sobs. Your heart felt the same, yet instead of being shut off, it ached like it had been ripped into and at this point, it might as well have been. 

Maybe he was right, maybe you were too clingy and 'obsessed' with him. Maybe you did spend too much time around him or too much of your breath speaking about him. All of the maybes ran through your mind like a pack of ants fleeing from the rain. It wouldn't be long until you were full on sobbing and so you did your best to hide your whimpers and breaths of heartache with the sleeves of your sweater--Wilbur's sweater.

You heard a creaking of a bunk, one of the three levels that were in the dorm, you weren't sure which but you still froze in place as a response. You hoped someone was just readjusting but as the lamp beside the bottom bunk clicked on, you realized someone was awake. You knew it was Andy even before you lifted your head to see him. Out of him, your dad and Evan, he was the lightest sleeper. So he'd most likely have been awake since the fight, you knew this but you only hoped that he would turn the other way and ignore it, let you wallow in your heartache.

"Kiddo?" He spoke softly, voice cracking with sleep as he patted the spot beside him on the edge of the bed. You simply eyed his hand, making no move to sit beside him, to get up out of the hole you've fallen into.

He gave you that look, that look only a dad would give you. The one that says "Tell me what's hurting, kid, please?" It's so unspoken, no words being muttered but every meaning and intention still finding it's way into the air and floating around like dust particles--unseen in darkness but when light shines, it's clear as day.

"Wilbur." You mutter it out, voice breaking at the end as another silent sob breaks through and he moves to stand, walking over to you and kneeling in front of you, hands on either side of your legs.

"What did he do?" Andy tilts his head to the side as he looks up at you with worry and concern splattered all over his face.

"He got drunk with those- with May and her friends," You paused as you sucked in a shallow breath, doing your best to calm yourself.

"And?" He prys, but you don't mind. He's just trying to scrape at the layers you've wrapped around your heart and mind, the layers that hide the truth beneath. He's doing a damn good job too.

"He yelled at me, I know he kissed May and- he's so mad at me, Andy. So mad." You know you sound like a broken child, a kid left behind on the playground. You can't help it, it's how you feel. You love Wilbur, you loved him. You gave him your heart and he discarded it in a ditch.

"I heard- I'll set up the trundle, you sleep in my bed, okay? Tomorrow is Saturday so I want you to take some breaths-" He starts instructing you to breathe in deeply and to let it out. He does this with you for a few more seconds until all the tears you have left have dried and you feel a tingling feeling of peace. As much as you can muster. And he smiles, patting your knee and turning around to do as he said he would, setting up the trundle, and then he ushers you over and you settle into the bottom bunk.

"We'll deal with this tomorrow, okay? We'll talk with your dad and Evan, and Cati too. Just rest now, kiddo." He smiles softly before settling into the trundle below and you let your eyes slip shut, welcoming sleep with open arms.

Your last thought before you drifted off, was hope you didn’t have to see Wilbur the next day.

taglist; @ella-fella-bo-bella @sleepyburs @lillylvjy

[ladymonterosa]

The thin line between love and hate

Second part: "Jordan"

26 september 2022

The classroom was now empty, and the only sound was the faint hum of the air conditioning. I had just finished answering the endless questions from the new students, trying to appear patient and approachable. It felt like I had been in their shoes just yesterday, but in reality, a whole year had passed. Now, with the second year just beginning, my role as a technical assistant and my new ranking in the top 10, my life at God U was becoming increasingly intense.

My phone vibrated, interrupting my moment of quiet. A message from Professor Brink: "Jordan, please come to my office as soon as possible." I sighed, knowing I couldn't ignore such a request.

I made my way to his office as requested. Brink represents many things to me... a mentor, a guide, and one of the few who had believed in me from day one. He had seen something in me that others had yet to recognize. He had taken me under his wing, teaching me not only the complexities of the subject but also how to navigate the labyrinth of academia. I felt indebted to him, and perhaps for this reason, I was always willing to fulfill his requests, no matter how demanding.

I arrived at his office door and knocked lightly. Brink's voice responded from inside: "Come in, Jordan."

I opened the door and found myself facing him, welcoming me with a smile. "Jordan, please have a seat," he said, pointing to a chair across from his desk. I sat down, trying to mask my nervousness.

Brink started with the usual questions about the beginning of my second year. I told him about my classes and the projects I had in mind. He listened attentively, nodding occasionally.

Then he asked how the introductory course "Combatting Crime," which I had to cover in his place, had gone.

"How did the introductory lesson go, Jordan? It's always a challenging task to manage a room full of freshmen."

"It went pretty well, I think," I replied, trying to recall the highlights. "The freshmen were curious and full of questions. I tried to be as clear as possible, but it's always a challenge to keep everyone's attention. Some seemed a bit lost, but I think I provided them with a good overview of the program."

Brink nodded, his gaze attentive and evaluative. "I'm sure you did a great job. It's not easy to take my place, but you've proven to be up to the task. First impressions are crucial, and I know you were able to communicate the importance of our work."

I felt a slight sense of pride at his words. "Thank you, Professor. I tried to convey the passion and dedication necessary to tackle such a complex field."

"I'm sure you succeeded," Brink said with a smile. "Your experience and enthusiasm are evident."

Then something changed, and his gaze became more serious.

"Jordan," he began, "I didn't ask you to come to my office just to have a chat, but because I need your help. I need your involvement in a matter that requires trust and discretion. You are one of the people I trust most here, and I know you won't let me down."

My heart started to beat faster. "What is it about, Professor?"

"You need to keep an eye on someone for me," Brink continued. "It's about a first-year student. She's a very promising girl, and I'm certain she will do great things in the future... but she needs someone to guide and protect her. Moreover, the Council is very interested in her well-being since she is the only beloved granddaughter of one of Vought's major investors."

Beneath the surface of my obligatory acceptance, a tide of conflicting emotions simmered. The thought of having to babysit a girl who probably had never faced a real challenge in her life felt like an insult to my intelligence and abilities. I hadn't enrolled at God U for this kind of thing. I'm here to learn, to grow, to become the best in my field. But I couldn't show my reluctance to Brink. He had invested time and energy in my academic and personal development. How could I say no to someone who had believed in me so much?

"Of course, Professor," I replied, trying to maintain a neutral tone. "I'll do my best to ensure the girl feels comfortable and safe."

Brink smiled, apparently satisfied with my response. "I knew I could count on you, Jordan."

Before leaving his office, I realized there was still one important thing I needed to know. "Professor, one more thing. What's the girl's name?"

Brink nodded, as if he had anticipated the question. "Her name is Astrid Steenwijk."

*＊✿❀ ❀✿＊*

I left his office with a heavy heart, trying to accept the idea that this assignment would be just another way to demonstrate my loyalty and gratitude toward him.

I sat down at my desk and tried to focus on the documents in front of me. They were lab reports and statistical analyses I needed to review for an ongoing project. But despite my efforts, I couldn't get my mind off what Brink had just asked me to do. Every time I tried to read a line or analyze a piece of data, the name Astrid Steenwijk crept into my thoughts, disrupting my concentration.

I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to calm my mind. But that name kept echoing in my head. Astrid Steenwijk.

Who are you? Why does your name sound so familiar to me? And, more importantly, why is everyone so concerned about your well-being? What makes you so valuable in their eyes?

Time passed, but nothing changed.

After a while, I realized it was useless to keep forcing myself. I had to confront this obsession somehow, or I would never be able to work.

With a sigh of resignation, I abandoned the documents in my hands and turned on my laptop. I needed to know more about this girl, to understand who she really was. Maybe getting to know her story better would help me overcome my reluctance and approach the task with more objectivity.

I put on my headphones and played some music to help me concentrate. Then, I opened the browser and started searching for information about the girl. I typed her name into the search engine and hit enter, waiting for the results to appear on the screen.

The first result that caught my attention was an article tracing the branches of the Steenwijk family tree. As I scrolled through the article, I discovered that my little freshman was the only daughter of Sansa Steenwijk, a wealthy heiress of European descent. Sansa had been one of the most prominent figures in high society, frequently appearing on the covers of fashion and gossip magazines. But her life had tragically ended just hours after Astrid's birth due to post-operative complications that left no hope. The news of Sansa's death had shocked Europe and the world, sparking countless speculations and theories.

The identity of Astrid's father, however, was shrouded in mystery. Despite much speculation, no one knew for sure who he was. Many had guessed he might be an equally influential figure, but no concrete evidence had ever emerged. This lack of information added to the aura of mystery surrounding the Steenwijk family.

I continued reading the article and learned that after Sansa's death, Astrid was entrusted to her closest relative, her uncle Alexander Steenwijk. Alexander, Sansa's younger brother, had never married and had no children of his own. The idea that a man of his stature had chosen to dedicate his entire existence to his niece deeply struck me. Alexander was described as a reserved and powerful figure, a man who had built an economic empire and who now, in addition to managing his business, had devoted himself entirely to raising and protecting Astrid.

I kept reading, finding another article that discussed Alexander's social and financial position. He wasn't just a magnate: he was one of the wealthiest and most influential men of the last century. His name was tied to large multinational companies, billion-dollar investments, and philanthropic donations that had changed the fate of many communities. His influence extended beyond the business world, touching politics and culture as well. It was clear that Alexander would leave nothing to chance when it came to protecting his niece's legacy and safety.

After gaining some understanding of the Steenwijk family, I decided to focus on Astrid herself. I opened other articles, including some from tabloid newspapers that turned out to be surprisingly informative. I discovered that Astrid was currently engaged to a certain Michael Miller. The name wasn't unfamiliar, but I didn't know much about him. I kept reading and learned that Michael was a promising tennis player, a talented athlete who had already won a few important tournaments and was ranked among the top 100 tennis players in the world.

The sources reported that the two had met during their first year of high school at one of Europe's most prestigious private schools. Michael also came from a wealthy family, though not as influential as the Steenwijks. The two had officially started dating at the age of 16, and their relationship had often been in the media spotlight, mainly due to the notoriety of both.

However, things seemed to have changed recently. According to the sources I was reading, a few months ago, Michael had cheated on Astrid with a model, and the scandal had made the rounds in the tabloids. This raised an eyebrow: cheating on a girl like Astrid Steenwijk wasn't just a mistake; it was a choice with potentially devastating consequences. Since then, no official statement had been made about a possible breakup, but there was a significant detail: no one had seen them together in public since.

The image of Astrid that began to form in my mind was very different from the one I had initially imagined. She wasn't just a spoiled girl who had always gotten what she wanted. She was a young woman who had lost her mother at birth, grown up under the strict protection of a powerful uncle, and now found herself dealing with a turbulent relationship with a boy who had betrayed her. Despite all the power and wealth, her life was far from free of difficulties and complications.

I turned off the laptop and removed the headphones, letting the silence envelop me as I reflected on everything I had discovered. The information I had gathered gave me a new perspective on Astrid, and in some way, I felt I better understood why Brink had entrusted me with this assignment.

I realized that, although I had initially been reluctant to accept this task, something had changed.

As I was lost in these thoughts, my phone vibrated on the table, breaking the silence. I looked at the screen and saw a message from Luke. "Hey, Jordan! Don't forget we're training together this afternoon. See you at 6 at the usual spot, okay?"

I smiled as I read the message. Luke had always been a pillar for me, a trusted friend I could vent to and discuss anything with, whether it was academic issues or personal problems. Training with him was an opportunity to unplug, to escape the stress of classes and the responsibilities I had as Brink's technical assistant.

I checked the time and realized there were only a couple of hours left until our meeting. I decided it was better to get ready and set aside everything I had discovered about Astrid for a while. I needed some time for myself, to recharge and approach the issue with a fresher mind.

I quickly replied to Luke's message: "I'll be there. I really need to blow off some steam today. See you later!"

After sending the message, I got up from my chair and stretched, feeling my tense muscles relax slightly. It was amazing how heavy it could be to sit for hours reading and analyzing information.

Then I got back to work, this time with a new perspective.

Time passed quickly, and it was time for me to get ready for the workout, grabbing my bag with everything I needed. I left my office and headed toward the campus gym.

1° part ; 2° part ; 3° part