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gardening--tools · 8 months ago

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Fallout 4 Companions and Cursing.

This came to me in a dream.

Questions answered: Do they curse? If so, how and when? Do they care about folks cursing around them? How would they react to getting cursed at? How would they react to getting cursed at by someone they care about? How would they react to someone cursing at their friends? If they do curse, what do they think about folks who are sensitive to cursing? When applicable, what are their favorite swears?

disclaimer: the headcanons that follow are simply that. headcanons. they might not be yours but they are mine. if, at any point, you find yourself becoming upset at how strongly you disagree with said headcanons, you have my full and enthusiastic permission to click out of this post and carry on with your merry way. okay. love you, have fun <3

cw: swears and generally crass language. spoilers for companion story arcs. quality not guaranteed.

Ada. Does Not Curse. Because they have not been programmed to. She does not mind cursing. Again, because she has not been programed to care. If you curse at them or their friends, she'll probably make a dispassionate comment. Something along the lines of, "According to your language, you are experiencing significant emotional distress. I recommend having an honest discussion about the source of this distress with a trusted companion, or walking away." Devastating. There is no comeback for that. As always, Ada remains The Most Chill companion, second only to Dogmeat.

Cait. Does Curse. Curses all the time. Especially when she's feeling unsafe or insecure. Even so, she is explicit and has no problem with it. Nothing is off the table for her. Of course, if someone is cursing at her and it's obvious they mean it. Well. She won't have anything to say because she's already swinging. Much more inclined to fight if you're cursing at her friends. If y'all are close and you curse her out, the severity of the swears used will determine the punishment. It ranges from a yelling match to getting your ass handed to you. As a fellow reactive person who processes her emotions outwardly, she Gets It. She would forgive you afterward, if you apologize sufficiently. (And honestly, she probably has things to apologize for, too. Unless you were being a real piece of work.) If you keep being an asshole, she'll beat you within an inch of your life and tell you fuck off forever. But literally why would you? Cait rules. Big believer in friends affectionately calling each other names, but do not try this unless y'all are close. Your funeral, if you do. She won't comment on it if you have a problem with swears, but will think you're weird. A healthy Cait will even do her best to stop cursing around you if it makes you uncomfortable. She stops cursing so much when she gets clean, anyway. I mean, she still does it, but she no longer feels like she has to constantly defend herself and gets better at articulating her feelings in a healthy way, so it just naturally peters out. Favorite swears: cunt and fuck.

Codsworth. Does Not Curse and gets very offended if you do curse around him. He is a family friendly robot, thank you very much. Comments on it every single time. "Mum, that is not a nice word." Just don't do it around him, it'll save you a headache. Uses euphemisms if he's feeling particularly strongly. The degree to which he will tolerate cursing at him varies on how close you two are, with his tolerance being less when y'all are closer. He's a robot built to be a butler. He's literally programmed to take abuse from strangers. If y'all are closer he has no qualms about letting you know how he feels about it, and he will refuse to speak to you if you take it too far. He'd likely allow you to apologize and repair the relationship, but only after a long silent treatment and lots of passive aggressive huffing. Out of all the companions, he's the most conservative about cursing.

Curie. Does Not Curse... in English. Curses frequently in French. Would/Will curse in English when taught, but honestly French curses just sound better. And, if you have an issue with cursing, she can still do it without making you uncomfortable. And she can curse you out covertly if she feels inclined to. If she transitions into a synth body, she actually curses more. Because she has Human Emotions now, and discovers the joy of calling someone an "asshole" when they're being, well, an asshole. Master at calling you the most horrendous names while sounding like she is engaging in pleasant conversation. (I mean, she was stuck in a room with a bunch of weirdo scientists who manic-pixie-dream-girl'd her. She had to be.) How she feels about different words depends on the context. Swearing in general—like after you stub your toe—doesn't bother her. She will lightly scold you if you are swearing unnecessarily in polite company. In this she's a bit of a hypocrite, because she also swears in polite company. She just does it in French so she doesn't get caught. If you're cursing at her or her friends, she cares very much and finds you to be uncouth. And she will tell you as much. If someone close to her curses at her, she will progressively get more frustrated the more it goes on. She starts off by genuinely asking after your emotional well-being. (If this solves the problem and you two work it out, she does expect you to apologize. Otherwise, she will get mad and she will let you know about it.) If you keep on and you're just being an asshole, she'll also yell and curse at you, and eventually kick you out. She'll still treat you and speak to you professionally, but she absolutely would not forgive you. This lady holds a grudge. Favorite words: merde and con/conne.

Danse. Does Not Curse. Listen. I get that this man is a soldier. I get that he spent some portion of his life as a junker in the Capital Wastelands. I get it. And still, he has a Complex about cursing. He blushes if he even thinks about saying fuck. Would rather vomit than call someone a bitch. (Also, he respects women and would never.) If he's feeling spicy, he'll say "damn" or "hell." And it gives him a little thrill every single time. Doesn't mind when other people curse around him. He is a soldier and spends a lot of time around folks who have... fewer apprehensions when it comes to colorful language. He just can't bring himself to do it and would rather find other ways to express himself. And honestly? It's always way more scathing than if he called you a name. He also doesn't care much if someone is cursing at him. Mostly because he's a Paladin and has more important things to care about than what some disgruntled Knight or civilian thinks about him. If it's someone under his station, he will go through the appropriate channels and either reprimand or report them for insubordination. And, if it's someone above his station, he will take the abuse like a Good Soldier and do his best to correct the behavior which led to his dressing-down. (He's a little more insecure post-Blind Betrayal, but only about insults pertaining to him being a synth. If someone called him an asshole, he'd probably just scoff at them and walk away. Unbothered king.) That being said, if someone he cares about cursed him out and meant it, he would think about it for days. Months, even. Don't curse at him. Both pre- and post-Blind Betrayal, he Can Not Handle It. If an argument gets nasty and y'all are post-Blind Betrayal, he probably shuts down and goes somewhere to process privately before y'all can come together and work it out. Either way, he's internalizing what you say. Is liable to put up with lots of abuse before calling it quits with someone. (But literally why would you, you monster.) Cursing at other people—especially people he cares about, but this man is committed to treating everyone everywhere equally all the time—is a sure-fire way to get yourself scolded.

Deacon. Does Curse... conditionally. Some disguises require him to be less crass with his language; others, more. Deacon Prime does curse in conversation, but he's, like, chill about it, you know? He's not swearing every other word, but he'll throw a "bitch" or a "damn" into the ring every now and again. Sometimes, when he's bored, he'll try to make up a new curse word and see if he can't get you to laugh. Or Carrington to tell him off. (Bonus points of he gets him to say "fuck off, Deacon.") Very chill about you cursing around him. Unless you are supposed to be undercover and are inappropriately swearing. Depending on the situation, a swear word can be a giant, glaring neon red flag that attracts more attention than you need. That's the only time he'll take serious issue with it. Of course, if you are uncomfortable with swearing, he's very good about censoring himself around you. Again, he has to put on lots of disguises that require him to keep it clean. It's no sweat to do it for you, his Best Buddy. He's too easy-going to really get offended when he is cursed at. (And a sick, little part of him takes pleasure in it, reminding him that he deserves every word.) If he really cares about you, it hurts far more, and almost certainly will cause him to go ghost. It's a honestly dice toss whether or not he'll come back to clear the air. In public, he probably won't stand up for a friend getting cursed at. Instead would look for a covert way to diffuse the situation that doesn't require him getting directly involved. Absolutely defends a friend should they be getting a dress-down in HQ, though. Favorite swears: damn, bastard, and whatever goofy swear/phrase he most recently strung together that got him a laugh.

Dogmeat. Dog. Wags his tail even if you call him a "stinky little bastard man." Loves you no matter what <3

Gage. Does Curse, but less than you would expect a raider to. I mean, it is still a lot. But also he has shit to do and most of that does not require him to talk. In fact, he would rather not talk. Just shut up and let him work. (No, this absolutely does not have anything to do with his mama rinsing out his mouth with vinegar whenever he swore as a child. Who told you that? Shut up.) So neutral about swearing that, if you asked him about it, he'd probably say that he doesn't curse. Doesn't even register curse words as curse words when he hears them. They're just fuckin' words, why do you have to be so uptight about them? Somehow, this changes when someone is cursing at someone he cares about. He's not liable to get into a brawl—another very un-raiderlike thing about him—but he'll absolutely get into a swearing match with the offender. Probably starts planning for an "accident" to happen to 'em later down the line, too. Doesn't care about folks cursing around him or even at him. If you're talking to him, chances are you're a fuckin' moron and your opinion isn't worth a lick of salt. Cares a little bit (a lot) more if someone he cares about is doing the cursing, but he's the King of Emotional Constipation and shoves that shit right on down to hell. He gives tit for tat. If you're getting nasty, he'll get nasty right on back. Like Danse, he will put up with a lot of verbal abuse before he's really pushed over the edge. And similarly to Cait, he thinks you're a fuckin' weirdo if you have a Complex about swearing. Unlike Cait, he almost certainly will comment on it. Absolutely will not censor himself if you have an issue with it. The hell you hangin' 'round raiders for, if you've got a problem with a few swears? Suck it up. (Even a domesticated Gage would not censor his swears. He would hang on to that little bit of crudeness as a personal rebellion, to still feel like a raider and a badass even if he's—ugh—helpin' civilized folk. Unless he's around kids. He's very strict about not cursing around kids, somehow.) Favorite swears: shit and damn. The classics.

Hancock. Does Curse. A lot. Almost like he's trying to do it as often as he can. He's not. That's just how he is after spending most of his life around the outcasts and vagabonds of the Commonwealth. Doesn't even clock swears in conversation. Second dirtiest mouth out of all the companions. Yes, he does beat Gage. (Mostly on the technicality that he talks far more than Gage ever will. But that's neither here nor there.) Like Deacon, he will also try to come up with outrageous phrases to be silly. And, like Cait, he is also a fan of affectionate name-calling, but is a lot more casual about it. This man just does not care about cursing. And if those curses are aimed at him? Sorry you feel that way buddy. Calling him names? Lmao okay. Maybe he'll make an example out of the offender, if he feels like it would be politically advantageous for him to do so. But otherwise, he just can not find it in himself to give a damn. This changes drastically if someone he cares about curses at him. Obviously, this is a grown man and he can take a yelling match if you need to get it out of your system and you two take the time to talk about it and appropriately apologize afterwards. But if you're being an asshole? If you're trying to hurt him? Jesus, it would devastating for him. Honestly, I think it would take one time. Just once for someone he trusted to curse him out or call him names and he would be almost irrevocably shattered. I don't think he'd even get mad. I think he would shut down immediately and completely. If he doesn't leave for Goodneighbor right away, he will soon. I do think you could repair that damaged trust, but it would take a long, long, long time. (And rightly so, you degenerate.) Now, should someone choose to curse at his friends while he's around? Hancock is not opposed to some gratuitous violence. He might give the diplomacy route, like, a shot. But, like Cait, he is almost immediately swinging. Or stabbing. Or shooting. If you're uncomfortable with swearing, he's going to do his best to censor himself, but is not always going to be successful. Give him a little grace. Favorite swears: hell and bastard.

Longfellow. What the fuck do you think? Dirtiest mouth out of all the companions. By miles. It's not even close. He could make a raider blush. He says words that you didn't even think existed. Deacon and Hancock combined could not come up with vocabularies colorful enough to compete with Longfellow's repertoire. Does not mind others cursing. Does not mind folks cursing at him or his friends. Does not give a flopping fishy fuck even if y'all are close and you're trying to hurt him with words. Why the fuck would he be bothered by that? What, you're trying to hurt his feelings? Son, he's seen things that would make you shit and piss and vomit all over yourself all at once. Swear at him as much as you'd like, y'all've got shit to do. I genuinely do not think you could ruin your relationship with this man with your words. He'll curse you out right back, and things might get awkward for a time; but, at the end of the day, he's still sharing his whiskey and you'll still have a place in his cabin safe from the Fog. He's too damn old to let words said in anger affect his relationships. In the Cait and Gage boat of thinking you're odd if you are uncomfortable with cursing. Will maybe comment on it once, but cannot be bothered to really care. If y'all are close, he'll try to censor himself. Of course, he does this by catching himself cursing, and then correcting himself by saying a different curse word instead. Listen. He's Surly Grandpa, what else are you expecting? Favorite swears: [REDACTED] and [REDACTED].

MacCready. Famously Does Not Curse. If he weren't so dedicated to censoring himself, he'd give Hancock a run for his money. He even censors his inner monologue, that's how dedicated he is to his son. (Aw.) He does the thing where he will start to say a swear, catch himself, and drag out that first syllable for a long time while trying to think of the alternative. Before he finds the cure for his son, he's a lot more self-flagellating about the curses that do slip through. He keeps a mental tally that he beats himself up about. Stops doing this so much after he finds the cure, and stops completely after he brings Duncan to the Commonwealth. He actually does care a little bit about folks cursing around him, only because it's harder for him to keep up his censor if the folk around him are liberal with their foul language. He would rather die than admit this. (He's still, like, 22 and wants to look cool so so bad. Please tell him he's cool.) Liable to get riled up when someone is cursing at him or his friends. Always offers to "take this outside," even though he has never won a fist fight once in his life. Also not one to get emo about a verbal argument with a friend or loved one, even if it devolves into cursing. He is actually surprisingly good at talking it out. After y'all both walk away to cool off, of course. That being said, if you're trying to hurt him on purpose, he's more than happy to tell you where you can shove it. Has a shorter fuse about you being an asshole than other companions, and is a strong contender for Curie when it comes to holding a grudge. If you're also sensitive about cursing and he thinks he can save face by doing so, he totally jumps at the chance to dump the reason for not cursing on you. "Yeah this one is pre-tty sensitive. Gotta watch the language 'round them." (Judas.) His favorite swear was (and still is) "fuck."

Nick Valentine. Does Not Curse... conditionally. Has arbitrary rules when it comes to cursing. He doesn't need to swear in order to emotionally obliterate you. Obviously he still says swears—shit, damn, hell—but he doesn't even really consider those to be swears anyway. And he's not above calling the occasional raider, "bastard." But that kind of crass language has its time and place. Does not curse in the presence of polite company. Certainly does not call people names. (Unless they really, really deserve it. Or really, really piss him off.) Hates it when folks curse heavily or are overly explicit around him. Finds it distasteful and unnecessary. Should he find it to be too excessive, he will scold you for it. Or make a snide comment. Both are painful. And don't even dare call someone he cares about—or, worse, a lady—a name in his presence. You are not surviving. Hope Dr. Sun offers therapy. Curse at him and he's not flinching. Pops has seen and heard too much in this life and the life before to not be desensitized to hurtful words said by an angry client or crook. And even if he wasn't, living openly as a synth in Diamond City has sufficiently toughened his "skin." He'll even take a bit of cursing and name-calling from someone he's close to, as evidenced by in-game interactions. He's not going to take it lying down, but it's not enough to ruin y'all's relationship. He certainly understands Big Emotions enough to know that not everything said in anger should be taken to heart. And he's level-headed enough to navigate those Big Emotions with you, whether or not you needed a moment to cool off. I think he would have a breaking point though, but he'd likely not get angry. I think it'd be a very quiet, "Now why'd you go and say a thing like that?" Very much like Hancock, I think once that trust is gone, it's obliterated. You might be able to salvage it afterwards, but again. It would take a very long time and almost certainly it would require you to make some very real changes about yourself. Now,—save for the insults found in very dredges of assholery—if you can make him laugh, he's far more lenient about your cursing. But you'd better be sure he's going to laugh before you try. In this case, if Longfellow is Surly Grandpa, Nick is Hypocrite Grandpa. (Love you, Nicky, but it's true <3) Favorite swears: shit, damn, hell, bastard, dickhead, dumbass... Seriously, Nick? It's okay when you call me a dumbass, but when I tell someone to "suck my dick" it's suddenly not okay to use "that sort of language–"

Piper. Does Curse. She's the kid who was raised not to curse, and found it unbearably funny to do so. Until, of course, she became Nat's guardian. Then she realized that– oh, actually it's probably not a good idea to swear so openly around a child. Except, she was really awful about censoring herself in that way. So instead, she'll swear, break away mid-conversation, look at Nat and say, "don't say that word," and then continue. This worked when Nat was younger. Not so much recently. ("...that fucking jerk. Nat, don't say that word." "What word? Jerk?" "Nat. You know what I mean." "Whatever you fucking say, Piper." "Natalie Olivia Wright.") Of course, Piper feels like a huge failure as a Big Sister/Parent because of it. Ow. Luckily, Piper isn't actually that big on cursing to begin with. She's a writer. And she's catty as hell. She's firmly in the Does Not Need To Swear To Ruin Your Day camp. She's not above it though, is what I'm getting at. Whether or not she cares about other folks' cursing depends on the situation. If it's excessive, or exceptionally explicit, or around Nat,—or any other children, really—she takes issue with it. Otherwise, who cares. Words are words are words. Sometimes "fuck" is necessary to communicate the right emotion. Like Nick, she is totally desensitized to folks cursing her out. She's an investigative reporter. People get mad at her. It comes with the territory. Hates it, but she gets really sensitive about it if someone she cares about curses at her or calls her names. She's the kind of person to cry when she's really angry. So if you were to insult her and really mean it, she'd start to tear up, and then get even angrier because it makes her feel stupid. This all builds until y'all are screaming at each other and lasts until one of y'all storms off. The length of the silent treatment that follows depends on the severity of the context. If y'all were arguing and things were said in the heat of the moment, Piper might go through a day-or-two long period of insisting that y'all will never have anything to do with each other ever again. And then she'll cool off and realize that– well, actually she said some nasty things, too, and maybe it would be better to talk this out than to let the friendship wither up and die. After y'all process the Big Emotions privately, she's very good at coming together and clearing the air. She'll apologize (and mean it) and you'll apologize (and you'd better mean it) and the air will be cleared. If you were just being an asshole to be an asshole though? Bye. Piper can hold a grudge forever. Contrary to fanon, I do not think she would be petty enough to write about you in her newspaper. But she is a young adult that was parentified as a child. I don't think she'd forgive someone who was trying to be hurtful for no reason, especially after giving them her trust. If someone were to curse out her friends in front of her, she would only a little bit think about running a smear campaign against them. Of course she won't, since she's such a Good Person. She'll just tell the offender off instead, but is mostly focused on pulling the two of you away from the situation. If you are genuinely uncomfortable with cursing... good luck. Piper isn't any better at censoring herself just because you're not her little sister. She does apologize profusely every time she catches herself, though. So, thoughts that count and all that. Favorite swears: damn and motherfucker.

(And here, dear friend, is where I inform you of the "Man Shall Not Call Women Bitches or Other Similarly Gendered Insults" Alliance between Cait, Curie and Piper. Call a woman an asshole? Tell her to go to hell? All fine, all good. Have the audacity to be a man and call a woman a bitch? In front of these three??? Don't look at me. I can't help you. Only Atom can help you now. Even if it was "deserved." There is no holding back with those three, and they absolutely enable each other. Your physical, emotional, and mental well-being cannot be guaranteed. You have been warned.)

Preston. Does Curse. He's just that kind of guy that won't curse until he knows what your feelings on it are. If you're uncomfortable, he will never ever swear around you. (Maybe if y'all are in dire circumstances, but come on. Everybody gets a pass in those.) If you are comfortable or swear yourself, he lets loose. I've said it before and I'll say it again. This man is a soldier and has been since he was seventeen. There isn't a lot that's off the table. Though, like Deacon, he isn't often explicit or excessive. However. He will not say bitch or any similarly gendered insults. Not even motherfucker. (I'm almost certain this goes against canon dialogue but who cares. I know this man like I know my soul. Whoever wrote that single line of dialogue was confused, and that's all I'll hear on it.) He'll say "son of a gun" instead of "son of a bitch." And even then, that's pushing it too closely for his liking. He won't say them to anybody, and certainly not to a woman. And he gets kinda itchy if he's around guys who do. He'll probably say something. (Usually a firm, "Knock it off, man.") It's not like he won't insult a woman. Just like he won't hold back if he has to fight a woman. (Because, you know, women can be raiders and Gunners, too. And he certainly has killed enough of both to know.) But he won't ever disrespect a woman. You know that scene in Deadpool? When Colossus and Matchstick Lady are fighting, and Colossus stops to inform her that her shirt has slipped and accidentally exposed herself to him? And he lets her fix it before they continue fighting? That's the energy Preston has. (Preston Garvey, Respecter of Women, your hand in marriage.) Other than that, he really doesn't mind folks cursing around him. He may take issue with it if it's in an inappropriate setting. It's not enough to piss him off, and it doesn't really offend him personally. He's just cognizant of the situation and, if it's looking like explicit language might hinder your goals, he'll nip it in the bud. He'll get annoyed if folks curse at him, but is more prone to tell them to relax and not much else. He is not above being the first person to walk away from a situation. If it's someone he cares for and trusts cursing at him, it's a little different, but not much. If y'all are arguing and it's getting heated, he would much rather take a break and then come back once heads are cooler. He's not one to get offended by heat-of-the-moment words. If you're explicitly trying to hurt him, he actually would get a little angry at you. Mostly because you're being fucking weird and what you're doing is totally unnecessary. If you back off and apologize, give him a little time to be upset and annoyed at you before y'all get back to it. If you don't? Cold professionalism. Either way, he's not afraid to tell you to fuck off. Depending on how far you took it will determine whether or not you can salvage the relationship, but do not expect him to make it easy for you. He is a Very Vocal defender of his friends when they are on the receiving end of some angry swears. When he was younger, he was more prone to fisticuffs, but has gotten better at diplomacy in his old age. (He's 28.) He's not afraid to use his body mass to put distance between his pal and the offender, and will keep his face stone-cold stoic while he calmly tells them to back off. Favorite swears: damn and hell.

Strong. Does Not Curse. Doesn't have to. If he's mad enough to curse at you, you're already dead. Doesn't care about folks cursing at or around him, because humans are stupid and half the time he's not paying attention to what you're saying. Also doesn't give a shit if you curse at or insult him. He'll laugh at you. He thinks you're funny. Why would puny human's word hurt Strong? Strong stronger than puny words. Human go away if not want to travel with Strong. Surprisingly, he actually is paying enough attention to know whether or not someone cursing at you is hurting you. And he actually will do something about it. That something is usually very bloody. Hey. Don't take Strong into bars. Even if he doesn't understand your weird, stupid emotions, he will offer you a limb from the victim to make you feel better. ...thank you, Strong.

X6-88. Does Not Curse. He's a Courser. He doesn't have to curse. If he felt the need to curse, it would imply that he felt the need to make threats. And Coursers don't need to make threats, because Coursers are threats. This does not mean that he's not a snarky bitch. But, more than any other companion, he will effortlessly find the most humiliating, scathing thing he can say in that moment and say it so eloquently that it makes you feel like you've been slapped in the face with a luxurious silk glove. A luxurious silk glove that has sliced through your cheek and now you're bleeding all over the ground. Maybe Nick gives him a run for his money, but it's close. Very close. Likewise, he doesn't care about other people cursing around him at all. Usually, those swearing at him are his victims. And he understands that swearing is a sign of weakness, and he appreciates his targets advertising their fragility so willingly. (You are thinking about fifty different ways to call me an asshole. I am thinking about fifty different ways to kill you in two moves or less. We are not the same <3) Whether or not he minds you cursing at him depends on the context. If he says something snarky, and that causes you to turn around and curse him out? A tiny, private part of him thinks it's funny and revels in this. He thinks you're amazing. He views you as this all-powerful, unflappable deific figure. And he caused you to react? You will not be able to see it—in part because he refuses to show it, and also because you are too busy yelling at him to notice—but he's over the moon. (This is only, only if you two have an established rapport. If you are not close, he keeps his mouth shut if he thinks it'll make you mad. He would not risk getting sent to S.R.B. for pissing you off.) However, if you were intentionally trying to insult him? Well, you'd never know it, but he immediately and completely shuts down. Nope. That's it, all done. No more friendship. Ever. He tried and it failed and now he knows that it's not worth it and was a mistake. Would totally end whatever relationship y'all had and any chance of him breaking away from Institute brainwashing and coming into his own as a person. (Death by a thousand molerats to you who dares bring this upon my Son. A pox on your house.) X6 is not above killing someone who curses at you. He might do it in public, or he might follow them into an alleyway later. It really depends on how much it annoys him. He, of course, won't admit that he's annoyed by it. That would imply that he cares about you. Which he doesn't. He just thinks you're Neat and it's actually an insult to him when someone insults you. Which of course he doesn't care about, because Coursers don't feel insulted. It's just that an insult to you is an insult to the Institute and it's his duty as a Courser and your Protector to deal with direct threats to the Institute. Which is what that person was. Yeah. He's not malfunctioning at all. Nope, no sir.

And, because it's my post and I want to,

My Sole Survivors and Cursing.

You can skip this part if you want <3

Ripley. Does Curse. Frequently and without abandon. Only, she just doesn't talk all that much, so you wouldn't know it when you meet her. And they really do try to be cognizant of the situation. Only, she doesn't really do well around civilized folk to begin with, and sometimes they get nervous. Be patient with them. Depending on the tone, she doesn't care much about others' cursing. Is very sensitive to it if it's angry or directed at her. She's not sensitive like, shut down and cower sensitive. She's sensitive like a cornered animal is sensitive. They get all quiet and waits to see if they need to bite. One should exercise caution when cursing at her, especially if you shout. Will not react verbally, but will go very, very still. Until you've passed a threshold, and then they attack blindly. Maybe with fists, probably with words. Very prone to saying awful things out of anger and then running away. Will not seek to remedy the situation first. If you want to fix things, you're gonna have to be the one to do it. And you must do it with all the delicacy of coaxing a frightened animal out of a corner. Watch your fingers. Will kill someone for cursing at her friends. <3 Don't fucking try her <3 If you're comfy with cursing, you actually probably don't have to worry at all. They have to talk to you to swear at you. And depending on how close you are, she would rather die than do that. And if you are close, they care very much about how you feel and would take extra care to censor herself. Favorite swears: dipshit and fuckass. (She likes combo words very much.)

Steve. Does Not Curse and will clutch his pearls if you do. He may look big and scary, but Boston's Golden Boy is actually a huge baby and is super sensitive when it comes to cursing. If the threat is physical, he can deal with it physically. If it's someone cursing at him? Baby boy needs someone to come save him, he does not know what to do. If someone he cares about curses at him? Tears. He's gone. He's in a funk for three whole days. He won't know how to address it and unless you approach him first, he's going to be super awkward around you until the end of forever. Lottie was really good for him about that. Now that she's gone? Well. He's much better about it when it's someone he cares about being subjected to angry swears. Again, the man is Big. He knows this and will Get Up In Your Face. Will offer to "take this outside." But he can actually mess you up. It's probably best if you just leave with your tail between your legs.

Lottie. Does Not Curse. Got in the habit of not cursing when she found out she was pregnant with Shaun, and it just stuck. Instead she uses increasingly unhinged euphemisms that are almost worse. ("Stick my left shoe in a toaster oven." "Crap in the corn-hole." "Shoot a root." You get the gist.) Stevie hated it when he was alive. (Oops.) She doesn't give a flack if someone curses at her. Honey, she's tangled with all sorts of bad customers in her day. You can take your bad attitude and walk backwards into heck for all she cares. Will only let it come to blows if she's really really pushed. If she's cursed at by a friend, she's more likely to escalate the situation than walk away. She's not always the best at acknowledging when it's the best time to back off. Her cool-down time is just as short as her temper, though, and usually smooths things over within the day. She's also fairly good at acknowledging where she went wrong in these situations. (You had better do the same, or y'all are gonna be right back where you started.) If you're being intentionally insulting, or being an asshole for assholery's sake, you're getting slapped. She'll forgive you, though, if you really grovel and clean up your act. Gets all up in someone's face if they're cursing at her friends. She's not a short woman. She absolutely uses her height to her advantage. And there's something particularly scary about a wasteland woman who takes the time to meticulously do her hair and nails squaring up to you without flinching. I wouldn't want to mess with her; and, if you're smart, you won't either.

Jude. Does Not Curse. Left over habit from her days trying to not get Clocked As A Communist. If she's feeling particularly angry or stressed, and she feels safe, she'll let a couple through. But otherwise, she's found other ways to... express herself. I mean, she's a little pretentious and has a degree in English Literature. She's gonna put that to use when she needs to humble a fool. Doesn't care at all if people curse around her. She used to hang out with good, honest blue-collar folk. She's so deaf to cursing, you have to point it out to her for her to notice. Similarly, she doesn't really react when being cursed at. Either the offender is upset about something—in which case, she'd rather listen than get upset. And she often tries to work it out with the person, if she can. —or they are just not worth her time, and she doesn't need to be concerned with what they are saying to and about her. If you were close to her and cursed her out with the intention to hurt her, she'd probably shut down. She would stay there and listen, of course, but she wouldn't be There. She'd disassociate until she could leave the situation and, depending on the severity of the offense, may be floaty for a few days before coming back. It would take time to rebuild the damaged trust, but it would be possible. Very quick to jump to the defense of a friend. Her first instinct is to diffuse the situation as much as possible, or at least to create an opportunity to leave. She'll put her body between the offender and her friend, and speak as gently as she can in an effort to distract and calm the offender. Favorite swears: bitch and cunt. (Only if she's feeling especially incensed though.)

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issdisgrace · 1 year ago

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Shit I'm sorry I didn't notice the request info-

Okay, can I please request Thomas Shelby x Tall and buff male reader who's the sweetest thing on earth but has one "flaw".

He's too damn handsy. Place, time, people, pffff, suit, shirt, naked, he doesn't care.

He just really loves Thomas man tits and his ass.

Not in a teasing way, it just makes him relax.

Just Thomas's reaction and how he's dealing with it. Whatever.

Thank you~ 💕

4 TIMES MR. HANDSY STRUCK

WARNINGS: Accidental groping, purposeful groping, swearing, yeah thats about it.

A/N: I hope you like this. I had a fun time writing this, so please feel free to request again.

Y/n was a tall and buff man. He looked like he could kill anyone without a second thought. But in reality, he was the kindest and sweetest thing to ever walk the earth. He was a gentle giant in all senses of the word. But there was one thing about the man that many would consider a flaw. It was the fact that he was handsy, very handsy when it came to his partner, Thomas Shelby. The man couldn’t keep his hands off Tommy. So here are 4 scenes in which Y/n couldn’t keep his hands to himself.

Walking down the streets of Birmingham on the way to The Garrison. It was quiet and peaceful; the sun had actually been out. Unlike most other days in Birmingham. Y/n had his arm wrapped around Tommy’s waist as they walked, casually talking. Tommy hadn’t realized Y/n’s hand slipping closer and closer to his ass until the man squeezed it, causing Tommy to yelp in surprise.

“I didn’t mean to startle you. I’m sorry.”

“I wasn’t expecting it, that all.”

Tommy says brushed it off, and the two continued their walk.

The Garrison was loud with hustle and bustle of the man drinking inside. In a corner booth sat the Shelby family and, of course, Y/n. The family talked and drank, Y/n adding in every once in a while not want to interrupt those who were speaking. Y/n threw his arm overs Tommy’s shoulder and continued onto listening to the conversation at hand. Without even realized himself, his hand moved down and now was on Tommy’s chest. It wasn’t until John made a joke about it out that he and Tommy realized.

“Y/n, you done feeling up my brother for the night? It’s a bit distracting.”

Y/n’s face flushed, and he quickly unwrapped his arm around Tommy, covering his face in pure embarrassment.

“Sorry.” He mumbled in his hands as the family had a laugh.

It was sometime after 10pm when Y/n managed to covince Tommy to call it quits for the night and join him in bed. Y/n sat in bed paeintly waiting for Tommy to be done with his night routine and join him. Eventually Tommy join him and they curled up togeather. They talked for a little bit until Tommy relized Y/ns hands found there way to his chest.

"My prince, can you explain to me how your hands always seem to find my chest."

"I'm sorry. I didnt mean to."

"Shh. It is ok my prince. Im just curious."

"I dont know. I guess touching them grounds me. It makes sure i know that everyting going on is real. But i guess it also calms me. I'm sorry if i make you uncomfortable. I can stop."

"Its fine my prince. I dont mind."

Tommy was hosting a party for the Peaky Blinders in order to celebrate some of their new achievements. The rowdy men happily drank the beer that was in the house and chatted. Tommy leaned against the bar, talking to Polly when Y/n came up behind him, grabbing his ass gently with both hands. Then resting his head on Tommy’s shoulder. Tommy turned his head slightly to look at you.

“Do you need anything, my prince?”

“No, just a little bored.”

“Ok.” Tommy said, then returning to talk to Polly.

The Shelbys, minus Tommy, who was nowhere to be seen, were sitting around having a drink at The Garrison

“Is it me or is Y/n really handsy with Tommy? I feel like half the time I see him with him, he’s either grabbing Tommy’s butt or his chest. It’s fucking weird.” Arthur slurs slightly, the alcohol getting to him a bit.

“Oh no, he is. You're definitely not imaging it, Arthur.” Ada says.

“Sometimes I think the poor thing doesn’t even realize he’s doing.” Polly adds in.

“Its fucking funny as hell. Have you seen the way some newcomers react when they see it happening? It’s fucking priceless. Their eyes get all wide and shit and they look like they’ve seen the most traumatic thing in the world.” John said.

“I’ve heard some newcomers people ask around, asking if it was a normal thing.” Finn adds.

“I know it’s also grate to see their reactions when they're told it’s a normal occurrence.” John says. After he says that, out of nowhere Tommy appearing

“What are we discussing this fine evening?”

“Nothing.” The other Shelby boys say at the same time like a kid that got caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

#tommy shelby #polly gray #arthur shelby #john shelby #finn shelby #peaky blinders #tommy shelby x male reader #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders x male reader #peaky blinders x reader

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kafus · 8 months ago

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why dot & episode 41 of pokemon horizons means so much to me as a recovering social recluse

when i got into pokemon horizons i had no idea whatsoever that my favorite character would end up being dot, one of the best handled social recluse characters i've ever seen in a piece of media. pokemon places such a large focus on adventure and travel, meeting new people and pokemon, so really the idea of a respectfully handled social recluse character just didn't seem to fit in with the concept. but now that the environment travels with the characters in the form of an airship, dot was able to be created and my god i love her. as someone who's been a recluse most of my life, even as a child, (i would qualify as a hikikomori and/or NEET at different stages of my life!) who is slowly crawling out of that pit, dot means the world to me.

there's a lot of good episodes that have some level of focus on dot but episode 41 in particular really blew me away and for the sake of my autistic ass desperately wanting to tell people about it i'm going to explain that here in trademark rambling fashion. obviously spoilers ahead - though not just for episode 41, i'm also going to be talking about earlier episodes a little bit. you've been warned!! if you don't want spoilers don't read below the cut ty!!

so episode 41. we meet dot's mother as the viewer who is there to pick up dot from her "trial period" on the brave asagi, learn about how dot ended up on the airship in the first place, and then at the end dot gets to have a showdown against her mother's lycanroc essentially to prove that she wants to, and can, stay permanently on the rising volteccers crew instead of going home. this is a huge turning point in dot's development as a character - at first she was a complete unknown only audible through her bedroom door, irritable to anyone who tried to speak to her, then over the course of the show she's managed to make friends with liko and roy, become a pokemon trainer, enjoy food with other people for seemingly the first time, and even caught tinkatink on her own accord pretty recently. and now this episode allows her to say in her own words that she isn't just on the ship experimentally, or because of murdock, or any other reason - she is choosing to be there and is enjoying learning more about other people and experiencing the outside world. again, this is a huge leap for someone who refused to show her face to the main characters for the first half of the show!

this on its own is already a pretty admirable character arc, one i can relate to, but i am really impressed by & feel seen by the way the writing handles her and that's really apparent in this episode. first i'm going to focus on how the writing and characters in the show respect dot's feelings despite her introversion and reclusion here.

dot's mom (blanca) is introduced to us as incredibly overbearing, to the point of freaking out and sending a bunch of angry stickers when murdock and dot don't immediately respond to her messages. dot's first response to seeing her mom is frustration instead of any level of positive response or excitement, which implies they don't have the best history, even before she actually starts talking about her past. i'm not trying to make this a post about dot's family psychology, maybe another time, but similarly to liko her situation is a bit fucked lmao (though for opposite reasons!)

the thing is - the adults around her are ALSO uncomfortable, in particular murdock, blanca's brother, which conveys a lot about the situation. she's not just some stubborn kid, there's legitimacy to her feelings, because if there wasn't the mature figures in this situation probably wouldn't also be reacting negatively, especially not murdock, dot's other relative here. from incredibly personal experience, it is so easy to wave off the feelings of a child, especially one as "difficult" and reclusive as dot, as just being some sort of phase, but already the writers are directly contrasting murdock, an adult dot is comfortable with who treats her with patience and respect, with blanca, who she evidently is not comfortable with - and they're respecting her feelings by making the adults in the show respect her feelings, too. and they're about to do a whole lot more of contrasting her mother with Everyone and Everything Else!

dot is continued to be understood and respected by the people who know her best in the case of liko and roy choosing to approach her to talk first. dot has run off to her room, where she usually is to get away from people, a very clear sign that she's struggling. liko and roy recognize this and cut blanca off from making the situation worse. which, of course they would, they're her friends and they genuinely care about her and understand how she behaves! they even know how to get her to come out her room without banging on her door and continuously yelling or something like that - direct contrast to them struggling with this much earlier in the show, by the way.

dot is happy to see them and much more willing to talk pretty much immediately, because guess what, they're people who respect her space and her feelings!!!

and once again, when blanca tries to force dot to speak before she's ready to (i mean come on you literally jumped her with this massive thing out of nowhere), liko jumps in and cuts blanca off to defend her and once again respect her feelings in a way that blanca definitely is not.

and finally, when they end up having a pokemon battle with each other...

blanca says this, yet another invalidation of dot's feelings and the way she responds to situations. this line actually made me viscerally uncomfortable, i remember the bitterness and upset i felt when i was a young person and my feelings, especially my frustrations with my parents and the way they handled my introversion, were invalidated on account of my age. "oh, it's just a phase" or "it's just because you're a kid" - just so incredibly frustrating.

and you know what that's followed up with?

dot speaking her fucking mind and kicking her mom's ass baby!!!! get her ass!!! let's GOOO. this part of the episode is so fucking rewarding. it's so good to see this character who has grown so much finally stand up for herself. she still needed a little bit of a push but that's OKAY!! the important part is that she's doing it and the narrative recognizes that! having friends and loved ones to help you out is actually a very essential part of happiness and survival!

and before i delve too far into my personal feelings, i also want to talk about a second thing here; i just find dot's characterization really relatable, like i swear to god there's someone on the writing team who must have been a 12 year old autistic NEET or something. it's literally too fucking on point, it's uncanny, i swear there's times in horizons where dot is just a carbon copy of me when i was a preteen. i mean come on:

dot flopping face down into bed after being overwhelmed in an awkward social situation and being confronted with a situation she's been trying to ignore thus far... the amount of times i have done this in my life, holy shit.

the candidness in which dot speaks about being so interested in the outside world, but being unable to have those experiences for herself as simply a voyeur. the shot of her room being such a disaster because she rarely leaves it and stuff piles up in there, including food junk,

the way she spends all this time alone cultivating skills she's passionate about and then shrugs them off as "just something she likes" when an adult compliments her on her abilities, the contrast between her confidence in what she loves but her complete social awkwardness in talking to anyone about it,

her defining herself on the internet by being a homebody, hell even her cute little freakout about the streamer she likes noticing something she said,

waking up late and missing the activities of other people because her sleep schedule basically doesn't exist while she's at home,

even just her general body language of closing in on herself and holding onto something when she's nervous, hell even her clothing choices which are so obviously meant to be as comfortable as possible for her and easy to take on and off - i could go on forever even just with this episode alone but i think you get the point. i feel so seen by how dot is just in general and it's obvious from both the plot/writing and the way dot is portrayed and animated that the people making this show understand people like me, even the type of person i was as a child, too.

all of this means so much to me because like i said in the intro to this post, i was and still very much am a social recluse. i'm a homebody. even now i still rarely leave my room, i don't eat with family often, i struggle to do things in the "real world". growing up, repeated intrusions into my feelings and my life did not help me, they only made me whiplash further into feeling distant and not listened to by the people around me. they made me want to interact with real life less. finally, as an adult, when people started to give me a bit more space, when the ways i communicate began to be respected a little more, that is when i started making genuinely close and good friendships, that is when i began to venture outside of my room and partake in small joys with people, as a direct result of being given the space and time to do so, to have my own autonomy, to make my own decisions, to be myself. i think it's incredibly easy to see someone curling in onto themself and assume they need a fuckton of intrusive pushing, and sometimes they do need a little push, like how dot's quaxly pushes her to move forward in the moment sometimes, or how liko continuously tried to befriend her, but the important part is that by treading too far over her boundaries it is no longer a productive or respectful way of helping her - it's a balance, and a balance horizons always seems to get right, episode 41 included.

it really means so much to me to see dot's journey into coming out of her shell treated with so much respect by the writing and other characters. so often recluse characters are the butt of the joke, are pushed out of their comfort zones unrealistically fast, or never actually receive the support and growth they need - but horizons strikes the balance of being candid about the type of character dot is and giving respect and space to her feelings so she can grow at her own pace, but still giving her support and little pushes when she needs them, and showing that it's possible to grow and enjoy the real world, even as a recluse. it's refreshing, especially with a character who is a child, and a girl, too! i can count the amount of times i have found a young girl character i relate to at all on one hand, and dot is the best one i've ever seen, personally! horizons has been really inspiring to me to continue to cultivate my connections with others and continue to drag myself out of my shell at my own pace with people who love me, during a really chaotic and transitional part of my life and i really love it for that. i'm glad this episode exists for an infinite multitude of reasons but i really just wanted to talk about this specific aspect for a bit and how it relates back to me as a recovering recluse.

thanks for reading if you got this far jesus christ i talk a lot LOOOL. and i might talk more about my feelings on this episode or dot in general later. i have so much to say about likodot and also about the family dynamics in this show i'm practically eating thru drywall thinking about it rn

#pokemon horizons #anipoke #pokeani #dot #trainer dot #dot pokemon #pokemon #pokemon horizons spoilers #anipoke spoilers #kiki was here #kiki.txt #this got personal but i didnt know how to talk about this episode without making it personal #you have no idea how hard i had to restrain myself from making this way too long #i have so much left to say... later #wink wink nudge nudge you should talk to me about horizons in my asks btw #horizons

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moongothic · 3 months ago

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So a few weeks ago I ran into this, old, old Crocodile meta post from 2015, the OP of which hasn't been active on Tumbr (at least on that account) since 2018. And this post (along with some of the OP's other posts) has been living in my head rent free since then.

There was just something there about seeing these old meta posts, completely detached from the current state of the story, the fandom and the Crocodad Propaganda... It just made for a truly refreshing read, but they also had such great observations about Crocodile I hadn't even thought about or noticed*, and somewhat most importantly... validating my own feelings/observations about things I've been kind of afraid to vocalize myself lest I apper completely delulu. Like I dunno I do worry sometimes if I'm just reading into things too much just to make massive reaches to get The Reading of the character that happens to support the Crocodad theory specifically, instead of trying to get a more objective reading instead. So seeing someone else make either those exact same or similar observations nearly 10 years before I did is so validating, and really just made me want to discuss some of those things.

*(Like this whole post about how "DON!" is often used to add emphasis and show the true beliefs of characters, and how Crocodile doesn't really say things with a DON!, almost like his heart isn't in most of the things he does or says. I dunno it was such a good read)

Sidenote: I do want to quickly comment that I don't agree with the OP on some of their readings about stuff, and more importantly, due to the age of the both the original posts and the OP not being active anymore, I didn't want to, like... Treat them as if they just posted it recently and interact with the posts as such. (I dunno, when people go digging through my decade old main blog and start reblogging shit I posted in like 2014 it just. I dunno, it's just kind of uncomfortable. Like you're allowed to browse my past but I wished people let my ancient cringe stay in the past. But that's just me) Like for example I feel like OP has a fundamental misunderstanding what being "trans" really even means (thus I don't agree with their take on trans Croc), but again, OP's take is old and so I don't want to hold it against them. They could have grown since then and come to better understand what being trans means, and regardless of that they don't have to buy into the theory either. And I absolutely do not want anyone to start trying to pester them about it or anything (again, they posted these things nearly 10 years ago), regardless of if they're still active or not. But yeah, that's why this is a whole separate post rather than a reblog with commentary.

So OP in their post speculated how in this moment (chap 206), based on the face he makes and the serious look he gives to Luffy, Crocodile seems to find the idea of someone being willing to die for someone else's sake absolutely incomprehensible, as if he's trying to wrap his head around the mere concept. That, or he used to know what it was like to hold someone/something that dear to you, but has long forgotten what it was like

Rereading this arc a while back I couldn't help but to take notice of this panel too and that unusual, somber(?) look on Crocodile's face. But because I'm a Crocodad Truther, of course I couldn't help but to feel that this was a face of recognition, of Crocodile understanding Luffy exactly in this moment, that willingness to do anything for a loved one. Especially because I have been speculating Crocodile might've been doing all of this with the goal of nuking the World Government out of orbit to protect his long lost baby boy (it's just that he simply finds Luffy's insistence on protecting this random ass princess from a random ass country he has zero ties to ridiculous, as opposed to like, doing all of this to protect immidiate, close family)

So again, despite the different reading it is validating as hell to see someone else think this panel in particular was odd. But the more I thought about it, I did kind of start leaning towards OP's reading. Now this one was originally pointed out by opbackgrounds, how in this scene (chapter 196) while Crocodile is meant to be laughing and mocking the royal guard for "throwing their lives away" to protect Cobra, he isn't actually smiling. We don't even get to see his full face with his eyes blacked out, so we don't get to see Crocodile's true feelings in this scene

And that does kind of reframe what he says in the second panel. For a long time I wondered if the implication was that Crocodile does actually value people's lives more than he lets on (especially with his seeming willingness to blow up a million people in a violent, orchestraded coup), just having a "small sacrifice for the greater good" kinda outlook (as we know, casualties can't be avoided in war, Croco and Luffy both agree on that) (where as I would IMAGINE Dragon having a more "no sacrifices, we have to save as many people as possible" kinda principle)

But now, looking at these two moments together, and knowing Crocodile has trust issues for unknown reasons, there is also that option that, perhaps... No one has ever shown that kind of loyalty towards him, a willingness to follow him to the grave or support him, to stay by his side? And if so, maybe, in these two scenes, Crocodile does recognize that kind of deep loyalty and trust and love, and has to cope with the fact that he has and may never experience it himself, that he's doomed to be alone, surrounded only by people who "respect him" out of fear (something that could be extra painful while knowing someone had just recently betrayed him by leaking his info to ruin his plans/after figuring out it was Robin, his very literal partner in crime. Like talk about rubbing salt into a wound).

And y'know, that is an extremely sad reading and I feel so bad for my poor little meow meow (that man needs a hug so bad), but also that doesn't really add to pushing The Crocodad Agenda, which is very unfortunate. Especially because I feel like between the two readings, Crocodile recognizing loyalty no one will ever show him (and being hurt by the fact) feels like a more comprehensive and simple reading, than if one is about him showing he doesn't fully believe in what he's doing is right and the other about him relating to Luffy on a deeper level.

But then, as OP pointed out in their post, for the entirety of page 2 of Chapter 207 while Luffy is keeling over from the poison finally kicking in, Crocodile looks like he's fully letting down his walls to express genuine relief, as if the those beliefs Croc had carried and convinced himself were true were just confirmed

What're his beliefs again? That trust in others is worthless, and you can not afford to have ideals if you're weak, great strenght being the only thing that allows you, if not straight up justifies you, in doing whatever you please? Now, maybe it's just me, but if Crocodile was showing relief here over his belief that trusting others is worthless after being reminded time and time again of the love and loyalty the Strawhats have for each other and the Alabastan kingdom has for everyone in it (etc)... I dunno, I feel like that would be kind of weak, if that's where Crocodile's internalized beliefs were wavering. But if Crocodile's whole Utopia-plan had been about destroying the WG to protect his baby boy (and release the whole world from the WG's oppressive rule while he's at it) at whatever cost, while he deep inside knew what he was doing was fucked up beyond belief... Yeah, Crocodile trying to convince himself what he was doing was "justified" would make sense. Him having his beliefs potentially even waver a little bit through out this whole ordeal would make sense. Crocodile in this moment experiencing relief that what he had told himself was the righteous would make sense.

Everybody remember's Doflamingo's speech from Marineford, about how history is written by the victors and its them who decide what is right and what is wrong- the winner becomes "justice" itself. Vegapunk kind of called back to this concept during his broadcast too, and yeah, Crocodile did kind of introduce us to it back in Alabasta. If he had won, he would have been "justified" in what he had done, because it'd be him who'd be deciding what's right and what's wrong.

Now I don't really have anything else to add to that post in particular (though I absolutely love the reading on the Crocodile vs Robin part and now that I've read it I can't unsee nor disagree with it), but OP did make a separate post speculating about some of design decisions Oda made regarding Crocodile, starting with discussing the logo for Baroque Works. And they pointed this out

Bro wrote this in 2015, they have no idea, oh my god, dude had no clue whatsoever

So quickly looking that one up and yeah, wings have sometimes been used to represent the sun (most commonly with the sun, as a winged sun?) and yeah, that actually has a lot of meaning in the current state of the series re: God of Liberation the Sun God Nika. But what's more is that this is actually the SECOND time we're actually finding a way to link Crocodile to sun-symbolism, the other being Crocodile being a reference to the Egyptian god Sobek (protector god, god of military, go to Wikipedia), who has an alternative form (/fusion with Ra) called Sobek-Ra, where he is a sun god. And what was Crocodile trying to do in Alabasta if not falsely "liberate" the country from its original rule. Also worth noting is that seemingly the winged sun was most commonly used in Egyptian iconography, so if Oda ever did research Egyptian mythology for inspiration in Alabasta (which, considdering the sheer amount of Stuff in the story as a whole is more than likely), then it is very possible he could have read about the winged sun and used it intentionally.

But what I do find interesting is that, yeah, wings kinda are a symbol one would considder "heroic" or related to "freedom". And, as I have been going on and on about, if Crocodile's ultimate goal in creating his funny little "utopia" was to overthrow the World Government and "free" the whole world of their rule. Like. That really lines up with the whole symbolism with the sun and the liberation and the freedom and shit, like. Why does it line up so neatly good dear god

I dunno how to end this post, these were just a few little things that I had been thinking about after coming across OP's blog and, yeah, just wanted to discuss them.

Again, OP hasn't been active for years, but if they did suddenly come back please don't bother them or god forbid harrass them/try to get them to change their mind about trans Croco. Just don't start shit, please.

End of post byeeeeeeee

#Moon posting #OP Meta #Sir Crocodile #Crocodad #Me? Writing an actual honest to god Meta Post? For once? It's a bloody miracle #Did not proofread the latter portion of the post I'll probably come back to edit it later #I dunno man sometimes seeing A Fresh (Vintage) Take about a subject just gets the ol' brain running again #Not that I really had that much to add I was just. Resummarizing OP's points and turning it into Crocodad Propaganda

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namazunomegami · 8 months ago

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Atonement

Pairing: Geto Suguru x gn!reader

Synopsis: How can you cleanse yourself from the sin that has been tainting you since your attempt to escape? The answer is easy: walk on barefoot for him, suffer some misery, risk your health for him, open yourself up for him and you can earn his forgiveness.

CW: canon compliant, established relationship, toxic and complicated dynamics, religious symbolism, porn with feelings, Geto is a manipulative ass how surprising, gaslighting, m!receiving oral, fingering, non-consensual edging, good old unprotected sex + creampie

WC: 5.3k

Credits: my lovely @notveryrussian who worked so hard to get this fic proofreaded. Ngl they deserve all the praise and respect because we lost literal pages from the already edited draft because windows is crap and they had to start over again. Take one big break darl, you deserve it 💕

Song rec: mythical creature by pregnant whale pain was my main inspiration during writing but i think tumblr dot com is not ready yet to listen to an unknown hungarian avantgarde metal band while reading porn lmao. Maybe i'll drop the acoustic version later.

A/N: Here is part 1 in case if you missed it. I think you need to know what happened to completely understand the buildup and have a general idea about their relationship. This fic is probably my fave I’ve written so far, a special lil brainchild of mine. These two are living in my mind rent free with all their lore and they'll never let me go.

Reblogs are greatly appreciated 💕

Minors don't interact unless you want me to stand outside your house at 3 am with a pitchfork

It was very hard to explain to your family what happened to you. The worry which they approached you with, especially Mimiko and Nanako just stirred a weird sense of guilt in your chest. The twins even offered to help you out with chores, eagerly telling you to rest, let your body heal. Your heart shattered to pieces in that moment, weeping endlessly with fat, salty tears. Your precious darling girls, so considerate of you, so caring, their hearts filled with everlasting gratitude. And you wanted to leave them. You felt like a piece of shit of a parental figure, obviously.

Days passed as if nothing had ever happened. Even in your private moments with Geto, the issue was never brought up. He took care of your wounds, of course, but your escape attempt wasn’t a topic of conversation at all. You swept it under the rug.

Which means it was only a question of time until he was going to wield it against you.

“Leave the scabs alone.” he reprimands you softly, dragging your wrist away from them. The hot water softened your scars, making them itchy, easy to pick away at them. But Geto is so thoughtful for looking after you like some kind of crazy mother hen, right? Even sitting in the tub behind you.

He takes hold of the edge, stepping out of the tub swiftly. The water suddenly drops around you, goosebumps dot your skin from the sudden touch of the moistened air as he hides that broad, sun-kissed form of his beneath a bathrobe. You ache for a bit of peace, a bit of me-time, but since the so-called “accident”, he just couldn’t stop himself from keeping an eye on you constantly.

Your hand dances along the surface of the water, bunching the bubbles together into various shapes, like they’re islands. Like you’re a young god, decorating the plane you’ve created. But his outstretched palm appearing in your vision disturbs your creative process.

“Come, I’ll take the stitches out.”

Compared to when your wound was sutured, cutting out the thread is a relatively quick process. Especially with his competency. The tweezer lifts and holds the knot, as he severs the thread with a pair of scissors and pulls it from your flesh before he moving on to the next. It’s uncomfortable, not in a way that it hurts, but it makes your skin crawl and your bones bend. An overall disgusting feeling. But when it’s over, it does feel better. And knowing him, you wonder if it’s purposeful or not.

“Must you make it painful?” you complain, thumb pressing down on the closed, marred skin. For the wrong reasons though, but you can freely complain.

“I didn’t intend to hurt you.” his voice is soft like silk, but not without a sharp edge in it, slowly unfurling, like the jaws of a venus flytrap. “I just wanted to teach you a lesson.”

You glare at him, your eyes piercing him like a dagger.

“Me? I wanted to teach you a lesson.”

This… was a bit too far, you must admit.

You storm out of the bathroom, like you could get away from the conversation.

“Go on, speak.” his words echo through the walls of the bedroom, making your movements halt immediately. You glance up at the window, faced with his reflection as he leans against the doorframe. “What should I learn from you? That you’re not afraid to run? To put your life in unnecessary danger?”

A long sigh leaves through your nostrils.

“If it comforts you, then yes, I realized that I had made a dumb decision.”

You don’t have to turn around to know he’s standing right behind you. Looming over you, shrouding you like an evil trickster spirit.

“I must admit I enjoyed your little attempt…” his palms are heavy on your shoulders, just like his words echoing close to shell of your ear. “Catching you, watching your resolves crumble, the raw terror plastered on your face…” the way his voice caresses you is just like the way he would hold a blade right against your throat, pressing down on the pulsing veins that could be cut open so easily. Like needles slowly being inserted into your ear canals. Eventually it softens, getting more serious and chiding. “But you did scare me. Have you ever thought about what would’ve happened if I didn’t go after you?”

You’d die, you would definitely die. Bleeding out amidst the leaves and grass, letting the frosty night bite you tense and weak. All alone in the dark.

Hold on…

You wouldn’t be injured if he hadn’t frightened you in the first place.

Did he just… no, it can’t be.

He slowly walks away from you, and you hear the bed creak under his weight. The choking feeling finally lifts from your throat. You turn towards one of the incense burners, already filled, it merely needs to be lit. But you do it slowly, just for the sake of appearing busy, to not feel obligated to carry on with the conversation.

But you should make peace with him before he does. He’ll make you face all of your mistakes and their consequences, if not outright making you suffer because of them. Rub all of them into your face until you have no choice but to plead for forgiveness.

It’s not easy, but you open your mouth. The scent of sandalwood lowers your guards, helping you be honest and brings forth the thoughts you’ve been trying to hide for a long time.

“Sometimes I wonder if we’re doing the right thing. And I wonder even more about that if we’ll fail before reaching our goal. Fail spectacularly. Because we want to do the impossible.”

“What is exactly the right thing? Being selfless? Forgetting all about our grudges and letting the world trample all over us? Or being selfish and crushing anyone under our feet to keep each other safe?”

Like an elastic band being strained for far too long, you snap. Luckily, the bronze lid of the incense burner holds out under your grasp.

“It’s too fucking late for moral arguments! Can’t you speak to me more directly for once? Instead of hiding behind your… carefully crafted scenarios that only prove your point.”

You should have avoided looking at him. At your serpent, who made you sin, who was cursed alongside you, your serpent who devoured your beloved Adam. You yearned for the remains, sitting in the bottomless pit of his stomach.

But you swore those remains spoke to you, through layers of flesh, scales, and deception. Soft and calm like a light summer breeze.

“Do you have doubts about me, darling? Are you giving up on me?”

The question breaks you, evaporating all of your anger and resentment in a flash. Devoid of any playful tone or hidden meanings, so raw that it takes hold of your heart and squeezes it so tight that it couldn’t possibly beat anymore.

You know how he twists the truth, striking right into the softest parts of you. He feeds you poison – yet you swallow it right down every single time.

“Faith has no zenith, my dear.” you answer, low and sweet, like you wanted to comfort him. The lid on the incense burner closes, giving you enough time to build up the courage to approach him. You weave your words carefully, in such fashion that it can be interpreted in multiple ways. If he switched just one little word, he’d immediately gain more insight into what’s really been weighing on your heart. “There’s no such peak we can reach on which we can stagnate forever. Faith sometimes wavers, sometimes we question our beliefs. Sometimes we’re unsure if our prayers are heard.” you get down on your knees before him, taking his hand into yours, giving him a gentle, reassuring squeeze. “But I do want to have faith in you.”

His features visibly soften. Heavy lids close in relief, and you feel his thumb brushing along your knuckles.

This is your chance! Go on, there’s no time more perfect than this to try to convince him.

“We should really get away from the temple.” you start with an almost resigned sigh, but your excitement soon starts to show. “Just for a few days. Manami will handle the followers while we leave for the countryside, or an island. We can bring the girls even.”

A faint glimmer in his eyes tells you his answer is going to disappoint you.

“They don’t know about the girls, but they certainly know about you.” he reminds you sternly. “The higher ups want us dead and the last time I offered to protect someone, they ended up getting killed.”

His voice is faint, almost shaky. He rarely talks about the death of Riko. And if he ever brings her up in a conversation, you know he means it.

The heavy lid above his eyes drops, violet irises hiding behind his lashes, averted from you. The words coming out of him are barely above a whisper, like his lips are made from lead, like forming the words is a tiring task because they’re so heavy, and filled with something violently torturing him.

“This is a risk I’m not willing to take again. Not even for you. Especially for you.”

You feel something pooling on your waterline. Translucent pearls of tears appear so involuntarily when you see him like this. Sometimes you do want to hurt him, but when you see him in pain, it torments you even worse.

“I’m not asking you to take risks for me. I never did. But you should take some for you. You could use some respite.” you lace your fingers with his. It brings you a strange kind of comfort how your hand just loses itself in his, but it’s yours that looks more lively and powerful. Like it’s you what keeps him together. As if without you he would shatter into pieces. “You take on an awful lot of responsibilities, I think sometimes more than you’re capable of handling.”

Affection sweeps through his features as he caresses your head, from the roots of your strands to the thick bone of your jaw. A lonely thumb brushing along from your cheekbone to the lobe of your ear. And there’s nothing you can do, only stare at him, wide-eyed with reverence, like he’s an ethereal being.

“This is not your cross to bear.”

He wanted to ease your concerns, but you’re much more stubborn than that. You won’t stand there, at a safe distance, watching him drag himself to his Calvary, whipped and crowned with thorns. You’ll push through the crowd, smash them to bits just to reach him and offer your veil to wipe his face. A thousand times, as many times as he needs.

“Of course it is, what do you expect from me? Unlike…” No, don’t say names, do not compare yourself to certain figures in your past and the way they treated him. “I’m worried about you, for no other reason than I genuinely care about you. That’s why I want you to put our plans to aside - let’s unwind a little, recharge. Before all of this drives us insane.”

He deliberately avoids answering, your concern grows and grows like vicious vine. Is this too much to ask for? A small moment of normalcy can’t be granted to you? What are the two of you really? Idols of worship, if not gods at this point because your sheep do regard you as such. But can’t gods long for a visit amongst mortals? Can’t they shed their divine status? You could, but maybe, before he’d let you leave, he’ll feed you pomegranate seeds.

Would you eat them again? Of course you would. Even if you fight and snarl a little beforehand. Because love is the death of duty, and of a peaceful mind, of comprehensive decisions. Love is so mystified, shrouded in the illusion of an immortalized existence, just like death. Love is, indeed, death.

Your palms cup his face, his skin radiates warmth through you. The warmth of the evening sun that makes the sky bleed with the prettiest colors you can imagine. Your touch slowly encourages him to look into your eyes, finding a strange kind of determination and care mixed with your obvious worry. A Magdalene dwells within your gaze, who already washed her prophet’s feet with tears and dried them with her hair before he starts his last journey to Golgotha.

“I told you a million times, if you fall too deep into your misery, when you feel like you can’t come back to the surface on your own, let me know, so I can pull you out. Or let me know so I can go after you. And we’ll drown together.”

All those little pacts and vows you made during the years echo through you. Even the first one, the most ancient of them all, when it was still easy to hide your concerns behind your techniques.

I’ll keep an eye on you.

It’ll keep an eye on you.

You lean closer, foreheads and the tips of your noses touching. Eyes closing in almost perfect synchronicity.

“Promise me, Suguru. Promise me again.”

You wait and wait, until his warm breath brushes your skin like fine silk, like a feather.

“I promise.”

You sigh in relief. It hurts, it hurts so much. There’s so much place in your heart for him to dwell in. He owns it and he won’t give it back. Ever.

You only wanted a chaste kiss, but a special type of hunger wakes deep below your navel. You taste his words, you swallow them down, nipping them from his lips. You look for the rest of them, his thoughts that hadn’t been formed into words yet, the rest of the sentence, you search for it with your tongue inside his mouth.

You grab onto the sheets, trying to push yourself up. Like you could overpower him, like you could battle against him. To have him laid out on the mattress, defeated. But he stops your advances with a palm resting on your shoulder, gently pushing you away.

“You’re not healed yet.” he whispers, truly concerned.

“Then I’ll be on top, I don’t care.” you oppose breathily, your fingers trying to pry his robe open.

“The cut on your hand could re-open if we’re not careful.”

Oh, how you adore him when he’s so tender with you, but now, this is the last thing you want. You want to bare your teeth and go right for the throat.

“Then you’ll stitch me up again.” There’s a playful edge in your voice, and you kiss him again with the same curve of a smile while he lets you crawl on top of him.

And he smiles against you too, delighted by your eagerness. You, trying to eat him up, digest him - he’s just enjoying you and the feast you’re having. Taking everything from you. He only wants to capture you, to cage you in his hold. He’s kneading your flesh leisurely and humming into your mouth contently, almost lazily.

In the crooks of his body, you find your religion.

The sharp line of his jaw, the tendons of his neck, the hollow caverns around his collarbone. But your mouth carefully avoids the scars slashing through his chest, after all those years, it still pains him when the lightly coloured, textured skin gets touched. As if these lips of yours and your aimlessly trailing fingers were the same blades, penetrating the flesh again and again.

There’s not a morsel of him that you weren’t intimately familiar with. In a way that rivals how much you know about yourself. And what you know even better is that how can you venerate them, dote on them, adore, and idolize with such devotion you could anger all deities created by man and make them scream blasphemy on you.

You take his cock in your hand, teasingly working your palms around him. Pumping it, stroking your thumb along the underside to make his breath hitch. His dick grows beneath your hands, getting harder and heavier. The first beads of precum get smeared along the length by your skillful fingers.

“You know you don’t have to- “but you cut him off while settling between his legs.

“Just relax and let me do all the work.” your response comes out a bit more deadpan than planned. “You deserve it once in a while.”

And with that, you wrap your lips around him, enveloping him in warmth and wetness, your tongue slowly swirling around the head. His thighs twitch, more precum oozes into your waiting mouth as the muscle between your teeth works eagerly. You give him a few, gentle sucks, slurping up the mixture of your own saliva and his arousal. Between ragged breaths, he reminds you to breathe through your nose as you take more and more of his length. You relax your jaw, your fingers tense around the base of his cock and you’re trying as hard as you can to defeat the urge to gag. When you fit all of him inside your mouth, you empty your lungs and give him a harder suck, hard enough to make you cheeks hollow and his chest heave. As your free hand is occupied with kneading his balls between your fingers and knuckles, a moan bursts out of him.

The sound boosts your confidence, filling you with a wicked kind of playfulness. The kind of wicked that makes you pull back your tongue a little, as to not keep your teeth hidden. You drag them along his sensitive, pulsing underside, balancing the pressure between pleasure and pain. Like you could prove to him that you’re ready to bite back, that this is the only moment when he can’t control you, that he shouldn’t underestimate you.

And just as if he could read your thoughts, his hand goes for your head, fingers getting lost between your strands. But he’s not as cruel as to push you down on him, instead he guides you, increases the rhythm that you’re working with. Steady and firm, but not too fast. You earn yourself his praises, soft curses pitched higher than his normal voice.

This is what real worship looks like.

When you feel the muscles in his thighs and stomach tensing up, you stop. You emerge from the space between his legs, wiping your lips clean and admiring your work. All that flushed skin blooming in pink on his chest and face. You move, trying to get into a new position, settling your calves right next to hips. You start aligning yourself with his cock to finally start grinding on him.

He sits up and traps you with an arm coiling around your waist.

“Since when were you so reckless?”

His hand creeps around the apex of your thighs. A finger barely brushes along your slit. By adding another digit, he spreads your folds, finding hot, smooth, slippery flesh.

“I would’ve prepped myself.” that’s all you can say in your defense.

Fingertips circle your hole, applying a bit of pressure, checking how much you’ve loosened up. He invades you slowly as your lungs empty, the hardened skin on his fingers stroking and massaging your sweet spots before he starts working you open.

You wrap your arms around him, slowly undoing his bun to have something to grab onto as you jolt, as your bones melt, as your brows furrow in bliss. The moans coming from you are breathy and tender, and you hide them in his strands. He twists his fingers inside you, stretching your warm muscles further, making your back arch and you press your hardened nipples to his chest. Your essence engulfs his knuckles, clear and sticky like honey.

The heel of his palm settles right against your clit and you shamelessly grind on it. Your mewls pass over his ears as he’s nuzzling into the crook of your neck, nipping at the skin of a faint scar. But you resist giving in, you stop him, telling him that’s enough, but in reality you just want your control back. Take back the lead and revel in it.

And somehow he obeys, laying back into the sheets.

You slip out of your robe, showing yourself fully. The bruises on your skin can finally bathe in the dim lamplight, painting the complexion of your sides, shoulders, and upper arm in different shades of blue and purple, like paint on bare canvas. Like the night sky carrying storm clouds, like you’re rotting, decomposing. You find a twisted, perverted joy in the fact that he must be seeing them for the whole time.

“Slowly, slowly.” he murmurs softly as you’re pushing the head of his cock inside you. “There’s no need to rush.” Trimmed nails trail up and down from the flesh of your thighs to your bruised sides. Tender and slow like a ghost, goosebumps pepper your skin from the tickling feeling. “I’m already yours.” He purrs and your heart flutters.

And there’s so, so much pride in you that only you can render him to this state. Too powerful for the world to bear him, capable to burn this plane to ruins, defying the barriers between a mortal and a god - or something way worse than that. Maybe you should receive twice the respect from your herd, for being the only person who can enslave him in this way, that only you can have this sort of power over him. Only you can overthrow him. Because you’re just too dear to him, too close to his burning heart.

Maybe it’s your time to warn him. Tame him like the monster he is.

You move with your own rhythm. His hand caged between your fingers and pressed down against the sheets. You give him no other choice but to venerate you back and he does, with pleased, low rumbles coming from his throat. Only a singular hand is allowed to roam your form freely. On your back tracing the shallow line where your spine lies beneath skin and flesh, wandering towards the inner part of your thighs, then to your stomach and chest. And you reward him with a prayer of your own, encapsulated in deep, long sighs.

But you’re too trusting of him. You let your guard down too easily.

You’re holding onto his kneecaps, leaning towards them a little, allowing every inch of you to be seen. You want to give him a show, but your knees are too worn and tired.

He takes hold of your hips, helping you guide yourself along his length. His pelvis moves along with you in synced rhythm. Your teeth are pressing down on the soft skin of your lips, but you can’t keep your whimpers in. You’re getting close, your muscles and nerves are st tight and pulsing, your walls are pressing down on his length. His name mindlessly slips out of your mouth.

Maybe you can say you love him before you shatter.

But his fingers clench around you, strong and firm, stopping your movements. Lifting your hips up so high that his cock is barely inside, robbing you from your incoming orgasm.

You’re shocked, eyes staring into the nothingness, open wide. Your stomach drops, stirring up all kinds of feelings dwelling in you. A chill races down your vertebrae as you glance down at him.

“Suguru..?” Your voice is weak, shaky.

Fear courses through your being, primordial and all-consuming.

And when he speaks to you it’s all dark, shrouded in malevolence.

“You forgot one thing, darling. After I brought you back from the forest.”

No, no, no, he can’t do this to you! He can’t hold your orgasm hostage for the sake of toying with you! You should puncture his flesh your nails, scratch him, tear him up, but you can only grit your teeth. Your features twist from bliss to rage.

“You…” boiling anger swims through your voice. It’s like it’s not even your voice - more like a hiss, a growl.

There’s an undecipherable mixture of pity and amusement in his eyes. He twitches inside you but you’re too upset to notice.

“Apologize.” he sneers - almost commands.

His words cause anger to bubble up in you.

“Oh, you piece of shit…!” you seethe, but sob and moan when he slams you back on his cock, stretching you around his length again. Wanting to quench your rage with the sensation you crave the most right now.

“I hope, for your sake, I don’t have to repeat myself.”

It doesn’t matter how much you try to squirm, fuss and wriggle, he forces you still. His behaviour frustrates you to no end when you’re so desperate for a bit of friction, the horribly hollow and burning feeling of your lost peak torturing you seemingly endlessly. To the point where you’re too tired to put up a fight, when you’re teetering on the edge of breaking. You know you must swallow your pride, you have let him have it his way.

“I… I’m sorry.” you apologize meekly, teary-eyed, your voice a pathetic mewl. He finally starts lifting you up and easing you down, building you up slowly. But it’s not enough. You need more but he won’t give it to you just yet.

“You do?” he asks you in a way that it cuts deep into your marrow. It’s not even close to a loving tease – no, he’s outright mocking you.

Vicious bastard. You should grab his throat and squeeze the air out of him.

“Yes, I do!” you cry out without thinking. “I’m sorry for running away from you.” you push the words out through your whimpers. He increases the pace, making you yelp and shake, you end up closing your eyes reflexively. He robbed you from the sensation for so long that you became sensitive, it’s easier to make a mess out of you. Your face is red with shame, so much so you can’t look him in the eyes. The humiliation is like an invisible rope tightening around your neck.

“Promise you’ll never do that to me again.”

He pushes your hips further along his length this time, shifting you a bit towards his thighs. Creating a perfect angle, he uncovers a sweet spot inside you that makes you almost incapable of forming coherent words. And he eats the sight right up.

“…I promise… I promise...” you manage to get your answer out in the form of a choked hiccup. Your vision blurs. Everything is too intense for you to handle. You swear that the very shape of you could dissolve at any given moment.

Faith is desperate. Gods are hungry for despair. So they deliberately make you suffer and only then reveal themselves to you.

His fingers dig into your waist so hard it burns. You feel the world shift with you and then you collide with the sheets. Your bruised back ripples with pain. You’re unsure if he did it out of spite or not. You don’t know if he’ll completely shatter your dignity, or if he’s fine with just enforcing the feeling that you can never be above him, that you can never defeat him.

His weight on top of you is overwhelming. The midnight dark locks of his hair spread around you like spilled ink. And through the thick fog of your mind, too far gone in twisted, masochistic pleasure, you lock your legs around his waist. You don’t want him to go away. You might as well cease to exist if he does.

“And what do we say when we apologize?”

The soft plea coming from you is more instinctual rather than deliberate.

“Forgive me.”

You ache for him to move, you’re starved for the incoming high. Like a ravenous beast, all devouring. When he finally gives it to you, his thrusts make you feel possessed, make your back arch, your head falls back into the pillow as if you were offering your neck to him (maybe one day he won’t be able to resist the urge and will bite down on the jugular, through your trachea, putting you out of your misery) - you don’t dare to beg for anything else.

Maybe just for a little blood. A mark he can wear, just like you wear your bruises. Your nails somehow acquire a will of their own, your scratches have him excited and pleased.

His fingers meander around your jaw, gently coaxing you into letting him guide your gazes to meet again.

He’s imitating you, admiring his work like you did with him. And what he sees is a being stripped from any likeness of a dignified human being. With eyes so blown he can see the bottommost pits of Hell in them.

And he’s satisfied, rewarding you with a soft kiss on your temple.

“I forgive you.”

Your release crashes over you like a tide, submerging you, burning you to cinders on the inside. Tearing you apart. And when he collapses on top you after filling you to the brim, you feel like a festering wound.

He’s a disease, miasma, a flesh-eating parasite crawling inside you.

“You’re…” you huff. “You’re awful.”

“I know. But you love me all the same.”

You wonder what you should have done to earn a different outcome, but you give up soon. Looks like he already had plans for your atonement in mind. After all, gods are impatient creatures. They’re dependent on your reverence and servitude. And you’ve waited for too long to make things right.

Why, why, why - it echoes inside your head.

But if you think about it… he’s your serpent. The vilest, most horrendous creature created by God. The one who charmed you, tempted you with sin and has now sunken his fangs into you. Of course he did, and instead of trying to heal from his venomous bite, you want to catch him - to find out his reasons, to prove to him that you didn’t deserve that.

And yet you could never, ever prove him wrong. Your serpent will always think it was right to bite. It’s in his nature afterall.

“Is your hand alright?”

He makes it up to you with spoiling you again. He cleans your wounds so sweetly, so thoughtfully, looks after you in a way that nobody could, which confuses you even further.

He cherishes you, destroys himself for the sake of keeping you safe - not like it’s a choice, but a must - just like a mother would. He scolds you, reminds you not to make the same mistake again, collars you, keeps you on a tight leash, only loosening it (just a little) when he succeeded at making you play by his rules, just like a father would.

And somehow, he excels at both. Way better than those two ever did when it came to you.

You wish your glare could pierce right through his skull when you hand the empty glass back to him. You don’t have it in you to play nice. You don’t even attempt hide that you’re sulking, he probably finds it funny - adorable even.

“Go to hell.” you spit and lay back into the sheets, your bruised back facing him.

“Oh, darling…” he coos, but the surface level sweetness of his tone hides a sharp edge of condescendence. He crawls into bed, right behind you, caging you in his embrace, forcing you to feel the warmth of his body. The warmth that you’re so used to, the one you can’t sleep without it. Nobody has ever made you feel this safe, and the fact makes your heart ache and your stomach twist.

“If there’s a Hell, I’ll see you there.”

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #getou suguru x reader #getou suguru x y/n #getou suguru x you #jjk x reader #suguru geto x reader #meesa writes #DAAARLING GUESS WHOS COME BACK FROM JAIIIIL #Idk what kind of deep psychological issue of mine is in that fic but now its your job to decipher #just please dont bring Freud into the picture I hate that man

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justporo · 1 year ago

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A Night of Song and Laughter (Part 8)

ATTENTION: There is some SMUT in this chapter, because Tav gets a little touchy and Astarion just pours oil into the flames - only lightly smutty though, because I like to be a pain in your ass, hihi.

There will be more smut in future parts that I will still have to write but let it slowly burn for now - I know you want it.

Also this is the last part leading up to my main idea for this story - the plot point I actually thought about when I started writing this and thought it'd be like a few thousand words adventure.

Btw, did part 7 yesterday go through okay? I felt like it didn't really show up for some time when I posted, eh. Anyways, if you missed it, it's on my blog of course.

A bit more is already up on AO3!

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Astarion/Fem!Tav (You)

(Gif from here!)

You kept on drinking and talking. Teasing each other, pouring more shots. It really did feel like one of the memorable evenings you thought about when you first told Astarion about this place. The main act had started to play downstairs: a band of elves – a rarity in itself, but they were practically celebrities as Lira explained: a male drow bard with long sleek black hair playing the lute and singing with a dark and somber voice that had men and women in the audience swooning, a female wood elf bard with a violin with green skin and equally sleek but powdery-pink hair and the voice of an angel and three more equally beautiful elven musicians. All were precariously clothed, leaving little to none to imagination. Since they had started playing the mood in the tavern had dangerously shifted from drinking and laughing to people of all genders and races and combinations dancing and kissing and stealing touches they thought nobody would see.

With half the bottle gone you could certainly start to feel the alcohol doing its work: you felt pleasantly buzzed, also giggling more and batting your eyelashes more at Astarion - which might’ve been caused by the amount of drinks you’ve had or the seductive, pleasant music… or maybe it was just your fatal attraction to him and his very much encouraging and looks and touches.

While Daegin had been complaining about the last time he had visited his family for the better part of an hour, you started to get a little handsy with Astarion. Which prompted him to grab hold of your roaming hands. “Do you mind, darling?”, he whispered to you with a smile and pulling both of your hands to put them over his heart. You blushed shamefully, immediately worrying if you’d made him uncomfortable. You quietly voiced your concern to him and apologized for your indecent behaviour while Daegin complained loudly about his second cousin's awful wife.

The vampire laughed softly and lifted your hands to his lips to plant a gentle kiss onto them. “No worries, darling, if you’d ever really do something to make me uncomfortable, I promise, I wouldn’t hesitate to call you out on it.” He pressed another kiss onto your fingers. “I love when you show how much I am yours and that you can’t keep your hands off me, my heart, but maybe just for tonight, keep your hands out of my pants while we have an audience, alright?” You nodded but still felt a little bit ashamed of yourself, so you buried your face in his shirt. You mumbled something about respecting boundaries into his chest to which he pressed a kiss on the top of your head and held you for a moment. Daegin was still on about his relatives while Lira boredly dragged her shot glass around in circles by its rim and stared into nothingness.

After a few moments Astarion leaned down to whisper into your ear. “There will be no boundaries tonight though, when I’ll have you all to myself and remind you why it is that you can’t keep your paws to yourself”, he simply stated and then went back to holding you sweetly – as if he hadn’t just given you the most enticing promise you thought someone ever gave you. Very naughty thoughts started to race through your mind, prompting you to let go of Astarion and get at least a few inches between you – a much needed safety precaution. You poured yourself another shot and downed it immediately while you could feel the same pulsing sensation between your legs you’d last felt when he had you pinned against a wall only a few hours ago. The rough fabric of your linen blouse started to rub on the hardening tips of your breasts, your throat was bone-dry although you only had just drunk something. Astarion leaned on his elbows to grab the bottle of liquor and also pour himself another one while watching your face and giving you a dirty smirk. He did look like the personified sin right in this moment. Astarion’s eyes wandered to where your hardened nipples here now clearly visible through your shirt while he drank slowly. He licked his lips afterwards without stopping to stare but you saw how he rearranged his pants with his hands – only the slightest bit awkward. And when your eyes flicked down, you noticed that not only your arousal was pretty obvious right now. “I admit you make keeping boundaries pretty hard, my love”, he whispered under his breath. You stepped closer to him once more but not touching him. “Seems that’s not the only thing I make hard”, you whispered back while returning the dirty smirk he gave you moments ago and staring into his eyes confidently. His pupils diluted slightly at your words, but he held your stare without moving, positively becoming a statue.

Then you suddenly turned away from him and to the other two at the table, crossing your arms over your chest, breaking the spell. “So, what else is new?”, you asked suddenly and with a not-so-subtle note of hysteria in your voice. You had been way too close to just completely losing yourself right then and there; all because of some dirty whispers and stolen glances.

The half-elf and the dwarf, both well drunk - much more than you - had obviously been completely oblivious to the electric tension between you and the vampire – thank the Gods. Out of the corner of your eye you saw that Astarion had rolled up his sleeves and was leaning on his elbows again next to you.

“Well”, Lira drawled, now much less focused on niceties and political correctness, “have you heard that Cazador Szarr has kicked the bucket a few weeks ago? And his whole estate was looted. It’s been the talk of town for weeks.” That sobered you right up. This was the first time you heard that this had become public knowledge. It seemed Astarion and you had been well shielded in your domestic little bubble since you had parted ways with your adventurous little group and settled down in Baldur’s Gate.

You threw Astarion a concerned sideways glanced but to your surprise he seemed relaxed. Even more so, he was grinning broadly, mischief twinkling in his eyes. Daegin happily chimed in and gave you a rundown of different theories on his death: heart attack (“Nah, he was perfectly healthy, last thing I heard”, Astarion commented), poisoned by another noble family to gain his power (“Probable, but why loot his estate and why not keep his death a secret and pose as him, so much easier to take over his influence.”), tragic accident (“Unlikely, I heard he never even really left his castle.”). Astarion seemed more intrigued in adding to the gossip that you thought was clever. But hells, you would not stop him from talking shit about this fucking bastard.

“Do you want to know what I heard?”, Astarion said after Daegin had finished. He leaned towards them as if he was going to let them in on a secret. Lira, immediately intrigued, leaned over the table just as he did. Her eyes widened and her mouth opened slightly in anticipation. Even Daegin seemed immediately interested. There he went doing it again, Astarion and his damned silver tongue. You were about to join his act in whatever lie you thought he would fabricate from thin air, when he began: “I heard, he was secretly a vampire and was murdered by one of his own spawn because he’d made a deal with a devil to perform a horrific ritual that would have made him even more powerful and killed thousands of people!”

Your chin basically dropped to the floor but you were way too shocked to do anything else. Lira and Daegin mirrored your emotions perfectly albeit for different reasons. Did… did he actually just tell them the fucking truth?

The silence between the four of you kept dragging on. Astarion simply drank another shot of liquor, shrugged his shoulders and casually said: “It’s just what I heard.” You could simply blink at his nonchalance. Then Daegin broke the silence with deafening laughter, roaring and throwing his head back, slapping his thighs with his hands multiple times. Lira joined in but her laugh turned into a silly cackling chuckle that made her shoulders quake like she was losing her mind. You couldn’t join in, you were too starstruck by Astarion’s boldness. But neither was Astarion. He just threw you a defeated look that seemed to say ‘see? No one’s ever going to believe it’.

After several minutes of choking on their laughter they seemed to calm down. Lira had to wipe away tears from her eyes several times, the dwarf had started coughing horribly halfway through. When he had regained a bit of composure, he jumped off his stool, walked around the table and offered Astarion his hand – which the vampire took with a confused look. “I gotta hand it to you, elf, no one ever made me laugh that hard. Not even my own brother”, he said and shook Astarion’s hand, congratulating him.

“Tav, you really need to bring him when we go out drinking from now on”, the short man said and laughed again. This time you and Astarion joined in.

#astarion #astarion x tav #baldurs gate #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #astarion x reader #astarion x mc #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x oc #astarion x you #fanfic #fanfiction #astarion ancunin #bg3 spoilers #a night of song and laughter #poro fics

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uselesssomebody · 2 years ago

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𝕗𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕥𝕙 𝕠𝕗 𝕛𝕦𝕝𝕪 (𝕝) - neighbor!joel miller x reader (pre!outbreak)

complete masterlist | joel miller masterlist

"𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕥𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕗𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕥𝕙 𝕠𝕗 𝕛𝕦𝕝𝕪 𝕞𝕒𝕝𝕥 𝕝𝕚𝕢𝕦𝕠𝕣 𝕠𝕟 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕓𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕙, 𝕞𝕪, 𝕞𝕪" - you can be the boss | lana del rey

words || 𝟠.𝟛𝕜

summary || in which the reader gets real friendly with one of her neighbors

next part || fourth of july (II)

a/n || in honor of that one deleted dvcree edit. may it rest in peace ➵ i became ghastly ill when i tried to write so apologies that it took a while. ➵ this is set before the events of the show, back when joel and sarah were still both alive and in austin, texas. i've never been so i dunno how accurate my descriptions are, or my accents, either. don't hate them please ➵ there is an age gap in this story !! if that makes you uncomfortable, i have many other non-age-gap fics you can browse on my page. reader is like 27 and joel is like 36. he's not old, though he is mentioned as such because he's old compared to her. also canonical dilf ➵ thinking of putting out a sister blog but with darker fics? what're we thinking, guys? ➵ send me requests if you have ‘em. enjoy!

warnings || fluff/smut ➵ unprotected sex ➵ piv sex ➵ oral (m receiving) ➵ fingering ➵ overstimulation ➵ facial & cum ig (tell me if i miss anything)

austin was hot.

she was sure that was one of her first thoughts as she’d stepped off the plane, quick to push her suddenly-heavy locks out of her face. lugging luggage and a young teen with her certainly didn’t make it better, but the light gust of fresh air when she stepped out of the airport left her sighing deeply in relief.

flagging down a taxi was simple enough, but getting her sister to help place their suitcases in the trunk was not.

“nicole - please get off your ass and help me!” she said it in such a sweet voice, that her harsh choice of words seemed to both mildly bewilder and amuse the driver.

no one called nicole ‘nicole’, except, of course, her big sister - and even then, only to frighten her. to everyone else she was just nicky and, if they were real close, nick.

swallowing sharply at the implied warning - the use of her full name - she did, indeed, get off her ass and help push the last suitcase into the trunk.

they piled into the backseat, the cool of the a.c. soothing the light flush on the sisters’ skin. she’s quick to give the driver the address, and he nods, setting off.

neither of them had imagined ever moving back to austin, but here they were.

it’d been about 13 years, as far as she remembers, and the scenery had changed significantly. more people bustled around the streets than there had been before, more businesses had seemingly popped up, and everything seemed fancier.

nicky wouldn’t have noticed the change, having moved alongside her family at the ripe age of a year old, but her significantly older sister could.

she still remembers how her parents had sat her down - on a pretty summer evening before her freshman year. they’d mentioned many things - how the family was due for a new start, how austin wasn’t so feasible for them anymore, and so on. the only thing she’d heard was change and loss.

and that's what it was for her. her whole life turned upside on its head, as the family of 4 made the move across the country to the cold state of michigan. and that’s where they’d stayed - for the rest of her childhood, and then her adulthood, too.

her parents had been young when they’d had her. very young, and she sometimes sensed the sadness that she caused them because of it. they never tried to be outward about it, and her life had been as happy as she could have realistically wanted it.

and, though she loved her young sister, she knew that she became less important in the eyes of her parents after nicky’s birth, taking the back-burner to make space for the family’s golden child, conceived with careful planning and meticulous care - as opposed to the case that she’d been.

now, though, being much older, she didn’t let that bother her, though she never felt particularly at home in michigan. in fact, the last place she’d felt at ease had been austin, and when her father had stated that he couldn’t continue to find renters for their old property there, and was thinking of selling it, she was quick to discourage him, swaying him by stating she’d be more than happy to stay there, renting under her parents. they’d been excited at the notion of being able to keep the house, she was happy to get out of there, and nicky was… well, she was, frankly, devastated at the thought of her big sister being several states away.

regardless of the tense family dynamic, the both of them had remained steadfastly bonded, with her providing the role of a caretaker as much as she was a sister to nicky when her parents found themselves unable to relate to or understand their young daughter. nicky’d begged for weeks to travel with her sister, and her parents had been - to put it lightly - hesitant, worried that the big change would affect their daughter’s development.

nicky was outgoing, for sure, and she had her friends and her school - but she knew all those came and went. the only rock she’d truly had in her life was her sister, and the notion of losing her had been too much to bear.

she’d gotten ill after that first week it was announced - it was as much a physical sickness as it was a psychological one - and the wallowing she had done at the advent of the news had only spurred the sickness to be harsher.

her parents had had to reprioritize after that, finally grasping the profound effect the separation might have on the two.

and that’s what led them here - just a few blocks away from her childhood home.

nicky wasn’t sure how exactly she felt about the suburban environment after their last few years in an apartment at the heart of the city, but when she looked over, she could see her sister’s happy - nay, giddy - face. that was definitely a big plus.

she had practically fallen out of the car in her excitement, and she spent just a minute marvelling at the fact that building hasn't changed a bit from when she last saw it.

it had transported her back to her teenage self, and, lost in the moment, the taxi driver wondered if he should remind her of her bags and his fare. nicky, who had been less of a help on the ride here, started unloading them herself, and it took until the second suitcase for him to help her.

“just give her a minute,” she mumbles, making him laugh lightly. hearing the conversation, she snaps her head back, realizing that most of the bags were already on the pavement.

“oh! sorry,” she fished into her wallet, producing his fare, which he accepted with a nod and salute. she smiled, the two sisters thanking him and waving him off, before turning back to their place, “excited?” she mumbles it to nicky.

“incredibly,” she said it with a faux-bored expression, but even she could appreciate the extra space this house would provide them.

she walks up the patio steps, slotting the key she’d so delicately carried the entire journey here into the lock, and hearing the distinct click it made when it opened.

the sound of a new beginning.

it'd been a few weeks, and everything was shockingly alright. the house felt more like home to her than anywhere she'd ever been, and though nicky was still adjusting, she felt infinitely better in a somewhat unfamiliar environment with her sister, as opposed to a familiar one without her. the house had three bedrooms, and nicky’d happened to pick her childhood bedroom out of the two offered to her, and, though nicky hadn't realized yet, she could see the love she’d put into the bedroom when she was younger: chipped wallpaper where she’d put her posters, a faint ring of liquid on the windowsill from where she'd kept her potted plant, the creak of the bed whenever someone would sit on it.

hey, she never said it was perfect, and they'd been quick to make their way to the furniture store closer to the city to find some new things for the place. all she was glad about was that there was no need for renovations in the old house.

they'd found a lot of time to spend together; having moved early into the summer, they'd hoped nicky would get acquainted with the change before going to school. that’d also left her to be a somewhat bored teen, so she did what she, as a younger sibling, did best: annoy her sister.

of course, she didn't mind, simply happy they had a chance to hang out, something that had been harder to do for her between work back in michigan, and her school. currently, she was also taking a break, having left her job, and having a new one lined up in another month.

that left ample time for them to catch up on all the movies and t.v. they'd had to watch, and for the older sister to teach nicky a thing or two about good music. she couldn't have her sister entering high school with a bad taste of music - it'd be blasphemous. she'd been brushing up on her housekeeping abilities as well, so the time also consisted of teaching nicky of how to cook, and keep everything in the house in order to minimize the risk of damage.

that time had begun to dwindle as of recent, with nicky being out of the house more often. she'd come into her sister's room sporadically, in order to ask her permission to meet with a friend. she'd tend to say yes, considering her sister was old enough to handle herself, though she was always a little shocked at the speed at which nicky made friends.

on one fine morning, she finally sat her down.

“so, who's this friend you've been spending all your time with?” it'd been in the middle of breakfast, and nicky'd become frozen, spoonful of cereal sticking out of her mouth. she’s quick to realize the awkward position, pulling the spoon out of her mouth, and hastening her chewing in order to answer the question more quickly.

“you haven't met her? oh my god, you absolutely have to. she's been showing me around the place - apparently she knows all the coolest spots, cause her and her dad - they've been living here for, like, forever, and-” the sudden onslaught of information made the older sister practically recoil, before it was replaced by an amused chuckle.

“well, mom and dad were worried about how well you'd adjust, but it seems like you're doing just fine.” nicky smiled too, though it was a little sheepish, “so, where did you say she stayed?” she was still slightly confused as to how nicky had met her, as she'd never exactly strayed very far from the house.

“oh, she lives next-door. didn't I mention?” the information was jarring for a moment, as it seemed a massive oversight on her part to not even notice her adjacent neighbors, but she suddenly found herself remembering something. there had been a young girl coming out of the house next door with a bag slung over her shoulder, and her hair pulled back and under a visor to protect her from the blinding texan sun. she’d been out to attend to some of the plants she had bought for the porch, and she had looked up when she’d heard the girl’s crunching steps on the somewhat gravelly pavement.

she’d smiled and waved at her, and she’d nodded back, just slightly confused by the encounter. of course, due to the nature of it, she’d promptly forgotten about it by evening, but she was quickly coming to realize that this must be the girl that nicky was talking about.

“wait - she’s the one with the big hair, wears band shirts?” nicky nods enthusiastically, and she smiles approvingly. the young girl seemed sweet enough, and she was more than happy that nicky had already found a friend.

the next week, nicky had been begging that they invite sarah over for dinner. it’d been a chill weekend anyways, so she was definitely not opposed to the idea, but she was quick to extend the invitation.

“okay, okay - invite her over on sunday. tell her to invite her parents too; it’d be nice to meet the neighbors.” nicky was quick to shake her head.

“parent, it’s just her and her dad.” she corrected herself quickly.

“right, ‘f course. invite him over too, then.” nicky nodded excitedly, rushing over to her room to get on the phone with sarah along the street.

that sunday, she did join the sister’s for dinner, but, as she’d been ushered into the house by two friendly smiles, she seemed to putting off a phrase at the tip of her tongue.

“s’everything ‘lright, hun?” she was quick to notice her guest’s guarded appearance, as she’d sat on the couch with nicky.

“hmm? oh, yeah, yeah. it’s just - my dad’s working tonight, so he couldn’t make it.” she waved her off.

“oh, don’t worry about that, we’re just happy you’re here!”

nicky echoed the sentiment, and the two young girls spent their time talking and laughing, a couple miscellaneous snack bowls spread over the coffee table as sarah became more comfortable. they’d migrated to the dining table when they’d been served dinner. she didn’t tend to cook for guests, so she attempted to pull out all her makeshift stops and, considering the end product, she was quite satisfied with the result.

no one was more excited than nicky and sarah, though - the both of them practically scarfing down the delicious meal. the conversation had turned to include all three of them, and sarah was beginning to reacquaint the both of them to austin, while they entertained her with stories of their time in michigan.

though they’d tried their very best, neither girl came all that close to finishing all the food she’d set out, so she was quick to package it up, sending sarah on her way with the food as a nod to her father’s missed opportunity.

“are you sure? i mean, i don’t know if i can take this-”

“yes, you can. unless you don’t think he’ll like it-”

“no! absolutely not, he’ll love it, it’s just-”

“sarah.” the faux-strict tone made sarah’s face crack into a smile, before she nodded, tucking the packet under her arm as she turned to say her goodbyes to nicky.

once she’d left, she pounced on her older sister.

“isn’t she great?” startled, she laughed, before nodding.

“definitely.”

june passed quickly, and, by july, she’d finished the paperwork for the house, for her job, and for nicky’s school. she was glad to know that it was the same one that sarah went to, and, with the added comfort of her sister spending increasing amounts of time exploring austin, she’d sat her cramped joints down in front of the t.v., vying at the chance to enjoy some trashy reality or game show.

though the sun still provided sweltering heat, when she left the kitchen and living room windows slightly ajar, she could feel the hint of a breeze work in place of their energy-consuming a.c. - which she’d turned off for that exact reason.

she turned her head from the t.v., the contestants on the screen continuing to speak with the host, and she let her eyes drift over the sliver of scenery that she could see through the half-obstructed kitchen windows. some of her neighbors had put up american flags. some were old, new, tattered, printed, there was even one that seemed to be homemade. of course, she knew this behavior was really only reserved in this neighborhood during this time of year, as the texans prepared to celebrate the 4th of july.

reminiscing of her own experiences with the holiday: going swimming with friends, eating good meals, and the occasional barbecue at a friend’s place - she was caught off guard when she heard the doorbell ring. it made her jump, but she quickly composed herself, standing up and brushing off her clothes.

she ran her fingers through her hair and, hoping she looked presentable, she opened the door.

it was her neighbor on her other side, a woman by the name of martha. she was a little older - her and her husband - and they were absolute sweethearts. in fact, they were the first to greet the new neighbors, back on their second day here. she was looking up at her with an excited smile.

“martha, hi! what can i do for you!”

“well - i was just wondering if you’d join us: we’re having a little barbecue tomorrow for the 4th, and i’ve invited a few of the neighbors. we’d really love to have you and nicky.”

she was just a bit taken aback by the invitation, but she didn’t hesitate in her response.

“of course, we’d be happy to be there! shall i bring anything?”

“no, of course not, dear. we’re hosting, just bring your little one.” she let out a light laugh, agreeing. martha bid her a quick goodbye, and headed in the next house’s direction - the millers.

perfect, she thought, nicky’ll have some fun too, then.

july the 4th, and a neighborhood barbecue. it’s a nation-wide phenomenon, then.

nicky’d been significantly more excited than her, once again, proving herself to be the more social one. nevertheless, as the younger girl got ready the next morning, her older sister spent her time finishing a tin of muffins. martha’d assured her she didn’t have to bring anything, but it almost hurt her soul to show up empty-handed. if she’d calculated correctly - and she’d hoped she’d done - she’d made just about enough for the whole group.

by 11:30, they were both ready, and she’d placed two boxes of them in nicky’s hand, while she carried the other two. the both of them made their way over, and she noticed the large group mingling in their yard and backyard. she could see martha’s husband, john, commandeering their large grill, a corona in his hand. she looked around for martha, and caught the eye of the woman as she turned away from greeting another guest.

“oh, you two ‘re here, perfect.”

“hey, martha. look, i know what you said, but-” martha gasped in delight at the boxes as she neared and noticed them, lightly taking them off of her.

“they look great; you haven’t stressed making them, have ya?”

“no - no, it’s my pleasure, really.” martha smiled at her, a mix of graciousness and happiness, before turning her attention to nicky.

“hey, nicky. how’re ya holding up?” nicky nodded.

“good, pretty good. thanks for having us.” she waved her hand at the notion, ushering the both of them inside.

for the first hour, she got acquainted with martha’s husband, the smiths from across from them, and marriots from down the road. they were all very curious about michigan and she, in turn, curious about how much exactly austin had changed since she’d last been here. at the same time, nicky was talking to a pair of twins a year younger than her who lived about two houses down. they were pretty cool, and were going to the same school as her, so they were filling her in on some of the school-wide drama: stuff sarah never cared so much about.

speaking of which, by about 12:30, she hears sarah’s voice greeting someone, and she turns her head, waving at her. behind her is her father, two packs of cold ones in his hands, that he sets down as he greets the hosts. sarah’s quick to detach from him, saluting him goodbye, as she instead makes her way over to nicky and the two other girls.

nicky's older sister had been enraptured in a conversation about the new dog the marriots were getting next week, when she felt someone come up to her.

john had brought joel over to the group, and he integrated without interrupting the story, letting mr. marriot express his excitement for the miniature pinscher they were getting. once he was done, he notices the newest member of his audience.

“hey! joel, how’re ya doin’?” his words turned the attention of everyone in the group, and she realized that this was the coveted joel miller: the man she missed for that one dinner. she turned her head to look at him, flashing him a friendly smile, but it almost froze on her face as she drank in his appearance.

good god, was he fine. messy hair that he’d pushed back, a full beard and an intense gaze. jesus, he was piercing straight through her, his eyes boring into hers while his mouth reflected a polite smile. she averted her gaze for a moment, before john is quick to introduce them.

“and this is joel; him and his daughter live right next door to you guys.” she nods, reaching over to shake his outstretched hand.

“nice to meet you; you’re sarah’s dad?” he nods, smiling at the mention of his daughter. she made the mistake of looking up to catch his gaze, and she felt her breath hitch. the moment passed as she released his hand, but, when she looked back up at his face for a half-second, as ms. smith began talking about her daughter, she swore she saw a smirk in the corner of his mouth.

the lunch had been lovely, and the company had been better. she’d heard stories of four neighbor’s dogs, and seven neighbor’s kids, and then stories of john and martha’s holiday the previous winter, and she felt much closer to the entire neighborhood. nicky had been bustling between her and her friends the entire time, as had sarah, but with her father.

speaking of whom - joel was interesting. he seemed just a bit tired, and maybe bit quiet compared to the others, but he had managed to find a keen amusement in making her squirm. and how could she not? this attractive, sweet, hot, funny, hot, gentlemanly, hot single dad was meeting her eyes every few moments with a gaze that made it look like he wanted to make her forget her name.

did she mention he was hot?

as was she, after a few hours of this strange back and forth, where the both of them seemed to be enraptured in the conversations they were in, but couldn’t seem to take their attention off each other.

jesus christ - he’s your neighbor. and he’s 10 years older than you. and he’s got a daughter who is best friends with your sister!

she jumped when nicky had come up to her, shocked by the feeling of practically materializing her sister.

“hey, i was wondering if i could go over to sarah’s place? i’ll be home in the evening.” nicky seemed a little tired of the party, obviously not the absolute best scene for a teenager like her.

“huh? oh, um - is she and her dad okay with that?”

“i’m alright with it,” a deep voice came from behind her, and she whipped her head around. joel had a kind smile on his face, and he was looking over at nicky, nodding.

“oh, thank you mr. miller! i appreciate it.” nicky smiled back up at him, before looking at her sister with practically puppy eyes.

“alright, nicky. be home by 5.”

“by 6, see you!” nicky rushed off before she had a chance to argue, and she opened her mouth, stuck between bemusement and amusement at her gall. joel laughed behind her, a deep, quiet noise. she didn’t realize how close he was to her, feeling the vibrations of his body in her own. she turned to properly face him, taking a half-step back to allow herself a more comfortable angle to look at him.

“nicky’s always so excited to hang out with sarah, and i can see why: she’s really sweet.” he smiled at the compliment for his daughter, his eyes holding a far-away quality that indicated his reminiscing of her.

“yeah - yeah, nicky too. sarah’s always harpin’ me to be able to go out with her.” he took a breath as he snapped back to look at her, “you’re new to the neighborhood then.” she smiled.

“yeah, we just moved in last month.” he nodded, gesturing around.

“it’s not a bad place, when you’re used to it.” there’s a joking twang in his tone.

“it’s not a bad place, even when you aren’t.” a light chuckle fell from him, as he took another swig of his beer. she could feel the proximity heating her up, so she brushed some hair out of her face, “i think i’ll step out for a moment. d’ya wanna join me?” she gestured to the door, and he shrugged.

“why not.”

the yard was more empty now, as people had begun leaving the gathering, or entering the house as the food had dwindled. though, still placed on the table, were a few of the many muffins she had made. she walked over, him in invisible tow, and she took one, handing it over to him.

“do me a favor, tell me what you think.” he seemed a bit confused, but obliged her, eating the muffin with great care. maybe exaggerated, but the expression on his face made her laugh, so she didn’t mind.

“this is great! martha went all out for these.” she nodded at the praise, him oblivious that it should have been directed towards her.

“martha definitely did. those were mine, though.” he looked back at her, in a mixture of impress and awe.

“well - you’re as good a baker as you are a cook, then.” she laughed at the reference to their lost dinner.

“oh, you did get it from sarah. perfect, what’d you think?”

“i thought that i regretted missing the chance to meet you then.”

suddenly, she felt the conversation had veered away from her ability to make food, and more towards - well, her. she went to retort, but heard her phone’s tone go. she snapped her head to her pocket, mumbling an apology as she did so.

it wasn’t anything important, thankfully, but it did give her an opportunity to check the time and, true to belief, it seemed that, very soon, she’d have overstayed her welcome.

“shit, it’s later than i thought.” she looked up at him, almost apologetically.

“you’re heading home?” though she wasn’t a master at reading faces, she could almost swear there was a hint of disappointment on his.

“well, joel, you’re a hard man to get a hold of. so, mind helping me bring these boxes back?” she gestured to the four boxes, and, in her own roundabout manner, made the bold move of inviting him over.

was it even bold? he lived a few meters from the place anyway. he smiled though, and, in his own gentlemanly manner, agreed immediately. he grabbed three of the boxes before she could stop him, and she almost sheepishly took the last box back up the street with him, pausing for only a moment to unlock the door to hers, before ushering him into the place.

he seemed almost hesitant to step too far in, but she waved it off, telling him to make himself comfortable as he set the boxes down.

“want anything? water, beer? something to eat?” he held his hand up, shaking his head, but did indulge in sitting at her dinner table. she ignored his gesture, taking out two cans for the both of them, before sitting in the seat beside him. he didn’t seem to mind, though, taking the cold beverage gratefully. it made her smile: at least the heat was affecting the both of them.

she took a long, almost wincing sip of hers, having almost forgotten how strong the liquid tasted in her mouth.

“sarah mentioned you’re a contractor?” it was a feeble attempt at reigniting their conversation; truly, she just didn’t want him to leave yet. he seemed to notice that notion, as he took a moment to answer, looking up at her between sips.

“yeah, yeah. me and my brother.” it was new info, and she nodded, rubbing at her nose lightly as she concentrated on the tab of the can, “so, how’d you find the place - the people?”

“they’re - uh, they’re really nice, i guess. everyone seems really friendly.” he nods.

“sure, sure. i’m sure it’s a little annoying though - everyone’s a bit older, right?” she looked up at him, and he had an unreadable expression on his face.

“well, i don’t mind older.” she maintained eye contact as she saw his smile twist, lip curling into a smirk, one he tried to hide behind his drink, “in fact, i think it’s better. older guys tend to be more mature - put together, you know?”

“guys?” his face betrayed his shock at her directness, and she suppressed a laugh.

“well, that is what you’re asking, aren’t you?” he held a hand up in surrender.

“and if i was?” she stuck her tongue into the side of her cheek, surveying the space between them.

“well, mr. miller. i’d tell you to stop beating around the bush and just take what you want.” he set his drink down with a light thud, something more desperate swirling in his eyes.

“and what would that be?” he wanted her to iterate exactly what she thought would happen.

“you tell me.” she didn’t give in, hoping the older man would break before she would.

he didn’t need much convincing, though, placing a firm grip on her arm, and pulling her closer to him, leaning forward and taking her cheek in his much larger hand.

“you’re asking too much of me, sweetheart. what’d the neighbors think?” his breath fanned over her face, and the tone of his voice indicated his teasing nature.

“what?” he laughed against her, shaking her body, before he gestured to the window just adjacent to him.

“only been here a few weeks, and already seducing one of your neighbors? it’s bold - i’ll tell you that much.” his cologne - a soft, but distracting smell - was overpowering her, and she couldn’t exactly think clearly as he sat so close to her.

“joel.” it came out as more of a plea than she had maybe wished, and he smiled, his eyes flicking across her face, “should we go upstairs?” she detached from his eyes for just the slightest moment, to look up at the staircase leading to her room.

“if you want to, sweetheart.”

fuck. being called sweetheart? by him? she was done for.

she led him up the stairs, her steps just slightly shaky as she walked up.

what was she doing? him, she supposed.

her bedroom was messier than she’d hoped as they walked in, but she didn’t have time to dwell on that as he pulled her towards him while she shut the door behind her, pressing his lips to her ear as her back hits his thick chest.

“you sure you want to do this?” his voice is huskier than it had been before, and it made her let out a shaky breath.

“please.” he smiles against her soft skin, turning her to face him. she doesn’t waste a moment, leaning closer to his face as he pulled hers closer to him, capturing her lips in his own.

his beard tickled her chin, his breath warm on her face as she closed her eyes against him. he tasted like an interesting mix between the barbecue, her muffins, and the beer he’d been drinking, creating a festive, american aftertaste in her mouth.

the kiss made her moan against him, as her hands finally began exploring the man in front of her. his shirt was flimsy against his torso, and that made her almost more inclined to pull it off of him, as she placed her hands under the thin fabric. he broke the kiss with an amused exhale, pulling her hands out from under it with a smile playing on his lips.

“think you owe me something, first, sweetheart.” she looked back up at him in confusion, but, noticing the fingers at the ends of her own top, she as quick to pull it off of herself. even he seemed a little shocked by her eagerness, but that didn’t stop him, pulling her into him with such force that the both of them fell onto her bed.

he sat back up in a heartbeat, redirecting her thighs so that they straddled his own, pulling her towards him. the angle left her neck at eye level with him, and his nose traced the skin of her collarbone, the ghost of kisses leaving a trail up her neck as she wrapped her fingers in his scruffy hair. she let herself get lost in his touch, the softness of his lips on her chest, the sharp sting of his teeth occasionally grazing her skin, the harshness of his fingers against the skin of her thighs.

before she - or he, for that matter - could get too carried away, she pushed away from him lightly, reaching back down to tug at his shirt.

“you got what you wanted, now come on-” he laughed as he pulled the offending cloth off of him, and she sighed happily at the sight.

god, he was hot. she pushed him further back until he was laying down, and attached herself to his jaw, placing chaste kisses in a similar manner he’d done, tracing the edges on his beard with her lips. he kept his hands firmly on her sides, squeezing gently as she made her way down his body, over his chest, where the hair tickled her nose, making her smile. then, over his stomach, until she’d gotten dangerously close to his rapidly hardening cock.

he gripped her tightly, making her squeak in shock which, surprisingly, did nothing to quell his arousal.

“you’re-”

“let me, c’mon.” she said it as though there was a measure needed to persuade him. that definitely wasn’t the issue; rather he was worried he’d finish far too quickly for the mature older man he’d portrayed himself to be.

but how could he not - this fucking gorgeous woman with her head between his legs looking up at him with those eyes. fuck, those eyes.

“please, joel?” he’d grunted in that moment, releasing his grip, and she had a smug smile on her face as she unbuttoned his jeans. he couldn’t see it though, his head thrown back as he tried to even his breaths.

she wasted not a moment to tease him, tracing the outline of him lightly through the thin fabric of his boxers. he’d groaned her name - almost in warning, and she smiled as she relented, pulling him out from the confines of the cloth.

she hadn’t exactly been proud of her expression in that moment - akin to an actress on a certain screen, if you caught her drift - except hers wasn’t a fake one. older men had always been a hit or miss for her in terms of dick size, but this one seemed to be the fucking hit.

he’d recovered in time to catch that look, leaning on his forearm to be able to reach his hand over and push her hair out of your face.

“shocked, sweetheart?” she didn’t take her eyes off him.

“excited, more like.” she pulled her hand lightly up and down his cock, spitting in her hand before continuing. the added lubrication made him moan through his teeth, and she didn’t give him a moment of reprieve, readjusting so she was at the perfect angle to lightly lick his tip.

he practically shuddered at the contact of the wet muscle on him, a hand going to weave the hair falling over her face away, and gripping her head maybe tightly than he intended to, as she placed feather-light, open-mouthed kisses from the top to the bottom of his cock. he didn’t say anything, his appreciation for the act moreso communicated through the squeezing and releasing of her hair, and his shuddered breaths and quiet, almost broken moans.

deciding she didn’t want to wait any longer, she wrapped her lips completely around him, taking him deeper and practically feeling him twitch as she sunk lower on him. he guided her movements slightly with his grip on her, pushing her down as he let loose to the feeling, and pulling her up lightly as she came too close to unraveling him.

breathing in deeply through her nose, she pushed down further on him, swallowing to suppress her gag as she felt her nose being tickled by the hair at his base.

“fuck, sweetheart.” the curse left his mouth almost aggressively, as he twitched behind her lips. her throat constricted around him, and she resurfaced, breathing heavily to make up for the lost air. he looks down at her, taking in her cock-drunk appearance as she sighed between his thighs. she lazily pulled her hand up and down his cock, as she caught her breath, “come up here, baby.” through both of their pants, she made out his request, getting up so that she was sitting on her knees, as he also rose to rest better against the headboard. he gestured her to some closer, and she placed a knee of either side of him, practically crawling up his legs.

the shorts she was wearing were his biggest obstacle at the moment, and he was quick to pull her up by the front of them, unbuttoning them in the process. a squeak emitted from her, shocked by the manhandling, and he was quick to pull them down her legs. her hands cover his, the both of them almost desperately taking them off and, once he’d finally done so, he focused his eyes to hers, his fingers sliding up her thigh and to her cunt. he traced her lower lips lightly, and she could feel her thighs tense, her breathing hitching.

noticing her reaction, he smiles, pulling her lips to his, and kissing her as he traced up and down her slit, placing the ghost of pressure on her clit. she almost jumps at the sensation, but the firm grip his other hand keeps on her hip stops her.

“don’t run away now, sweetheart.” it’s a whisper into the space between them, and she wordlessly nods, her hand going to his biceps and gripping as he applied more pressure, “tell me what you want.” she looked up at him, a mix of disappointment and frustration at the request.

“i…”

“you?” she cleared her throat, averting her gaze, and he used his free hand to direct her chin to look at him, “what d’you want?”

“i want you to fuck me.” she felt almost ashamed saying it, but he smiled in pride - a smug smile.

“we’ll have to get you ready, first; don’t ya think?” he dips the tip of his finger into her and she shudders again, her hips jumping lightly, causing him to squeeze her. she nods, humming, too focused on the movements of him fingers to properly answer. taking pity on her, he obliges, pushing a finger into her, and curling it up.

“oh, god.” the sensation makes every muscle in her tense, the sexual frustration piquing at the feeling, and simultaneous lack thereof. her head falls into the space between them, and he places an almost comforting kiss to the top of her head, before beginning to move his finger.

initially, he moved it in and out of her almost exploratively, as if he was trying to determine what exactly made her tick. it resulted in soft moans and cut-off breaths, before he heard something akin to a whimper when he’d found a particular spot inside her.

he pushed another finger in, making her noises only grow, gripping him tighter. he started moving in and out of her at a more rapid rate, his fingers curling, to the point where she was moaning so loudly that he was worried the neighbors would hear regardless of their relocation.

he took his lips to hers again, hoping to muffle her noises, and it worked, her mouth focused on feverishly returning his passion that she managed to swallow the majority of her moans. though, it didn’t help when she felt the knot inside her begin to tighten, her hips grinding against his fingers.

“y’gonna cum, sweetheart?” she couldn’t speak, worried she’d be too loud if she opened her mouth, so she nodded frantically, pushing more quickly against him as she chased her high, “that’s it, baby, cum for me, cum for me-” his encouragement almost made it easier, and she did cum, in something akin to a burst: her body fully stilled, as did his movements, and her eyes rolled into the back of her head, the hint of a squeal leaving her parched mouth. her voice sounded almost broken because of the intensity of it, and she practically leaped off of his fingers, unable to take the overstimulation as he had begun to move again.

“sorry - fuck, it’s too much, sorry-” he shook his head, assuring her immediately.

“it’s fine, sweetheart, you’re fine. ‘re ya ‘kay?” his accent came out more aggressively as he checked on her. she’d placed her hands over her face in an attempt to cool its warm flush, trying to catch her breath, as she nodded shakily.

“i’m - i’m, fuck, yeah, i’m fine.” she practically stuttered through her gasps, and he found it endearing, giving her a moment to compose herself. he adjusted the way she sat on him for her to be more comfortable, him fingers kneading the flesh of her thigh gently, hoping the contact would ground her.

it worked, with her taking her hands off her face after a few moments. her eyes had a far-away look to them, but she had a sheepish smile on her face.

“that was - uh, it was really good.” he smiled at her reaction, but it dropped after a moment.

“we can - we can stop, if ya want, sweetheart. if it’s too much-”

“no!” her response was so aggressive that it made him look at her in light amusement, “i mean, no. i don’t want to stop.” he surveyed her with an analytical eye.

“are ya sure?”

“joel, please?” she’d moved closer so her cunt sat inches from his cock, her warmth radiating onto him.

“i-” he went to say something, but seeing her flushed skin, her lust-blown eyes and the plea to fuck him, he seceded.

he pulled her up by her thighs, so she hovered over his cock. she used her hand to hold it steady, before he helped her lower onto him. it took a try or two, with his cock bumping against her clit and making her jolt. his tip caught her entrance in just another moment, though, and she took in a deep breath as she sunk onto him.

“fuck-” his response made up for her wordless one, her face contorting in pleasure as she tried to handle the size of him in her.

“joel-” she needed a moment to adjust, and it seemed as though he’d realized even before her.

“take your time, sweetheart.” she took a deep breath, sinking into joel’s arms further as she felt his thumb over her clit, trying to make the process easier for her.

finally, she mustered the strength to grip onto his shoulders, his hand finding a firm place on her waist, as she strained the muscles in her thighs to lift herself up. she felt a moment of aching emptiness, before she sunk back down on him, his cock catching practically every sensitive spot inside of her, making her moan.

it was a bit laborious, but along with his own effort, they came to a working rhythm seamlessly, and her moans began to be matched by his grunts at the feeling of her warm cunt, enveloping and twitching around him. she felt fucking amazing, and the warm breath of her gasps spurred him to push against her with just that bit more force. her eyes widened, her moans breaking as her breath caught in her throat. she felt her muscles turn to jelly with each thrust, practically being held up just by his hands. her head falls against his shoulder, her breath stuttering. his pace didn’t relent, though, with him readjusting just slightly to do the brunt of the work, fucking up into her as she tried not to let the pleasure consume her.

“joel - joel, you’re, oh, fuck-” she became a mess of mumbles as she attempted to just take it, but she felt her second orgasm oncoming, and way too quickly.

“c’mon, c’mon-” even joel wasn’t really registering what he was saying, focusing on feeling her cunt pulse again, like it had around his fingers. she didn’t make him wait too long, as her mouth fell open and her body tensed, clamming up as her orgasm crashed over her. his name came out in a squeak, and he resisted the urge to moan too loudly by attaching his lips to her neck, taking in the feeling of her pulsating cunt.

she slumped against him, desperately trying to catch her breath, before she was reminded her was still inside her. he helped her off of him and, before he could do anything else, she kneeled back in front of him, positioning her face right in front of his cock and stroking him to completion, his warm cum falling over her face in ropes.

“jesus christ, sweetheart.” he had to physically turn away from her, worried he’d get hard again at the sight, and she let out a tired laugh at his reaction. she rose from the bed after a moment of catching her breath, turning into her bathroom in order to clean herself up. it only took a minute or two, and by the time she’d walked back, joel had managed to pull his jeans back over him, and was desperately searching for his shirt. it was just by her feet, and she could give it to him.

but did she want to?

both of their heads snapped up when they heard the sound of the front door opening.

nicky - she’d come back at her sister’s previously preferred time, 5, and that had become increasingly problematic.

“shit-” she threw his shirt at him, and he caught it with one hand, trying to adjust the button of his pants with the other, “what do we-?” she questioned, as she pulled her shorts over her legs and shirt over her own head.

“just say ya were showing me around?” he suggested, and, through a shaky breath, she nodded.

“smart - smart, uh, do we-?” she gestured to herself, hoping she looked presentable, and the both of them gave each other a once over in approval that neither looked too disheveled, before they opened the door.

of course, those post-orgasm should never be told to rationally judge anything, as nicky and sarah could tell something was off from practically the moment their family members stepped out of the room.

“nicky? you didn’t have to be back so early, you know.” she said it quickly, without thinking, and, upon seeing joel’s what the fuck? expression, she realized how bad it sounded. nicky had, too, her brows furrowing as she turned to sarah, who simply shrugged in similar confusion.

“i’m sorry?” she watched as her sister - and then, to her surprise, mr. miller - came down the stairs.

“that’s not what i meant.” her sister mumbled, a sheepish smile on her face.

“dad, what’re you doing here?” sarah looks at her father quizzically, and he opens his mouth to speak, as she does at the same time.

“just - showing me around-”

“i’m giving him a tour!” they spoke over each other, and she glanced to look at him in slight embarrassment. he was trying his absolute hardest to keep from chuckling.

“anyways, sarah, we should get going. you two have fun?” sarah still looked between the both of them inquisitively, as nicky bore a glare at her sister, as if asking a question telepathically.

“lots of fun, dad.” it’s got an awkward delivery, so he coughs in an attempt to dissuade the tension, turning to her once more.

“it was nice meeting you, then - the both of you.” he smiled at nicky as well, before reuniting with his daughter.

“of course! it was great to see you again, too, sarah.” she mentioned, as she opened the front door for the both of them.

“see you around, sarah. good evening, mr. miller.” nicky spoke from behind her, and the millers nodded in goodbye. the front door shut with a click behind them.

there was a moment of silence between her and nicky, as she leaned against the door, before nicky broke into a big smile.

“i can’t believe you did that.” panic flashed over her face, and she whipped her head to face nicky.

“huh?”

“he’s so much older than you. and my friend’s dad, c’mon!” she sounded annoyed, but the exaggerated nature indicated that it was fake. she immediately tried to deny her sister’s completely true assertion, but the younger girl practically laughed in her face. she rolled her eyes at the reaction, brushing her off.

“shut up, nicky. he’s not even that much older than me.”

only a few meters away, sarah was trying very hard to suppress her own laugh.

“she’s really nice, right, dad?” joel, who had a faraway look in his eyes, hummed in response, prompting her to continue, “nicky’s sister. she’s really nice.”

“yeah - yeah, she is.” joel shrugged, unsure of how exactly to respond to his daughter. he looked down at her, and she had this glint of mischievousness in her eyes.

it worried him.

as he ushered her in when he’d unlocked the door, she’d made a beeline for her room. though, before she made her way up the stairs, she turned back for a moment, looking at him.

“and dad? you’re shirt’s on backwards.” she doesn’t wait for his response, walking up the stairs. shocked, joel looks down at his shirt, where the tag was practically looking him in the face. he sighed, closing the door behind him.

“shit.”

#joel miller #joel miller oneshot #joel miller imagine #joel miller x reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller smut #neighbor!joel #the last of us hbo #the last of us #pre-outbreak!joel #fourth of july #pedro pascal #lana del rey #you can be the boss

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skippiefritz · 6 months ago

Text

reqs from @idanit and @beetle-goth (sorry for tags I'll untag if asked ^^;)

long rambly post ahead! Unlike what I normally post but its my account so I can do what I want lol

(This probably isn't the most historical thing I’ve ever written but! I will fix as I work on it more lol)

the implications of Bertie's bachelorhood if he were a bachelorette fascinate me endlessly

I read this post and it gave me brain worms and I've been designing an au around it ever since

In this au it's a complete genderswap with all characters, uncle Alistair (aunt Agatha) becomes more old fashioned sexist to Bertie, not thinking she can take care of herself. (sorry Agatha stans)

Which like. She can't. But it's nothing to do with her being a woman.

Bertie keeps her core character traits, but by merely being a woman living alone in 1920s London, she inherently becomes more independent and rebellious.

She's sneakier about her escapades, still stealing hats off bobby's and the like, but tries to be subtle about it. Emphasis on tries, she's still a Wooster at her core, and thus a very

big klutz.

Bertie is just completely and unapologetically her/himself regardless of gender, for better or for worse.

If humble pie is being served, she will surely go back for seconds every time.

I can picture her leaning very hard into the roaring twenties flapper persona, but still being a homebody at heart. Big of heart, dumb of ass.

The biggest issue of course is the engagements, it’s a lot harder for a woman (particularly one whose family wants her to get married) to get out of engagements. THIS is where the fun new plots come in

Obviously there’s the classic setting up her fiances with other women, so they call it off and marry their true loves. And the occasional making herself seem unsuitable to be married. (though, this would usually backfire, that would make it seem like she needed to be married more, so she had a man to take care of her and make her settle down)

Instead of focusing on making it seem she herself is un-weddable, she (and by she I mean Jeeves) concocts byzantine schemes to paint her potential suitors in the worst light possible, or to make them seem negligible so one family or the other would call it off.

I’ve been working on one such story, I haven't ironed out all the details but it ends with Gussie pushing Bertie into a lake. Of course. (I may make a comic abt it when done)

Jeeves’ character is fascinating too, I see her being the classic “quiet competent woman who gets shit done”. She would be less respected than m!jeeves, but still far more respected than the average maidservant of her time.

I can see her need for fashion clashing with the maidservant outfits of the time, part of me is tempted to keep her design the exact same and make her a big beautiful butch, but…I know that's probably not how it would go.

Jeeves would wear the classic Maidservant outfit of the time, though I can see her styling it subtly to suit her more.

Her control over Bertie’s wardrobe, while still being “God this bitch has no fashion”, also has an undercurrent of internalized sexism. She’s discomforted by the more risque (by those times) outfits Bertie enjoys wearing, like her flashy flapper dresses and the like.

Of course, she’s also uncomfortable by how attractive she finds her in said risque clothes. (drama!!)

And they end up compromising !!! and Jeeves has a lil arc in learning to accept the new fashion wave and embracing bodies and whatnot.

Their dynamic would essentially be the same, homoeroticism, Jeeves being morosexual, Bertie being endlessly impressed by her.

also because of the ridiculous british nicknames most the characters are referred to the same, they just have diff first names, here's a quick cheat sheet

(I tried to keep them similar and also extremely english)

Reginald Jeeves = Regina Jeeves

Bertam "Bertie" Wooster = Bertha "Bertie" Wooster

Reginald Jeeves = Regina Jeeves

Aunt Agatha/Dahlia = uncle Alistor/Dahl

Augustus "Gussie" Fink-Nottle = August "Gussie" Fink-Nottle

Charles "Biffy" Biffen = Charlotte "Biffy" Biffen

Marmaduke "Chuffy" Chuffnell = Marigold "Chuffy" Chuffnell

Stephanie "Stiffy" Byng = Stewart "Stiffy" Byng (the implications of a man being named Stiffy are. different but Wodehouse had to know what he was doing with that name)

Richard "Bingo" little = Richenda "Bingo" Little

and so on and so forth!

Anyway uh, this went on for a while lol

I’m working on designs for them and will gladly share if asked! But they’re nowhere near done dhjdsh thanks for coming to my ted talk.

I don't know if any of this made sense, sorry if it doesn’t.

also for a bonus here's a quick messy collage I made of f!Bertie

#skippie speaks #rambles #im autistic can u tell be honest #jeeves and wooster #genderbend

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hanasnx · 7 months ago

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that's exactly what tf i'm talking about, BIG DICK ENERGY. and not toji fixing shit around the house during the party, imagine his cocky ass interrupting you mid-conversation, calling your mother by her first name and asking her which one of the outlets she needs him to fix? or asking your dad where he left the toolbox? and you're seething the entire fucking time, because you know he's showboating just to make your new fling uncomfortable, but just seeing how easy it is for him to do so and how much your family loves him makes you all the more agitated.

it absolutely would end in angry sex, you'd be ready to burst by the time you're finally able to get him alone to chew him out. it would most definitely have to be outside because you'd wake your parents up, and i doubt either of you would be able to wait long enough to drive back to your place either- so he's got you bent over the hood of his car at first, showing you how much he missed you, but quickly pulls you into his backseat when he hears the neighbors garage door open. yes, the old neighbor lady knows him too and loves him. but it gives you the chance to take control and release your frustrations, riding him as you curse at him, only for him to coo at you and tell you how cute you are when you're mad, not taking you seriously at all.

BUT WAIT THERE'S MORE

once the two of you finally finish making his car shake, you look around you and notice all the crap littering his back seat. when you ask him why there's baskets of clothes, he says

"What? You expect me to find my own place every time you dump me?"

his cocky ass didn't even bother finding somewhere to live, he's been couch surfing and living in hotels. of course he could afford his own place, but why go through all the trouble when he knew you'd take him back soon enough?

his confidence and the fact that he was right makes you pissed again, muttering and shaking your head at him as he helps you fasten your bra and find your shirt among the mess.

"So when am I moving back in, princess?

since i read this when you sent it in, i have been nonstop thinking about “what? you expect me to find my own place every time you dump me?” truly a banger of a fucking line bcos it was perfectly worded and executed.

calling your mother by her first name. the old lady neighbor knows him and loves him too. he tells you you’re cute when you’re mad. “making the car shake.”

my fucking god these are all great lines. i love this scenario so much.

the friends he couch surfs with are familiar with his situation bcos it’s like “you in the doghouse or something again, toj’?”

“yea, you know how it is. she’s just bein’ bitchy she’ll get over it.” meanwhile you fucking dumped his ass bcos he’s so frustratingly masculine. toxic masculinity like not taking you seriously, always thinking he knows what’s best, effortlessly manipulative etc etc. completely dismissing you acting like you’re gonna come running back one day—and in a way you do when you fuck him in his car. you certainly can’t go back to your skeevy bf after that, toji made sure to leave his mark.

#indy shoots the shit #thanks for the msg!!#purple-obsidian #ch: toji #toji fushiguro prompt #indy: headcanons #toji fushiguro headcanons

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kasagia · 2 years ago

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Our little game pt. 2

~Part 1~ ~Part 3~ ~Part 4~ ~Part 5~

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x witch! reader Summary: After the engagement party, you, Katherine, Freya, and Rebekah start to organize a grand fairytale wedding for family members only. Which means you'll be staying at Mikaelson's house a little longer than you initially assumed. But everyone is delighted with your presence. Especially little Hope and her dad, who loves to watch you play with his little princess. Kol is teasing him that he's using the baby charm to get to your cold, iced heart because he isn't hot enough. Kol nearly gets stabbed. But Elijah comes and rescues his youngest brother. After all, someone has to perform the marriage ceremony. You also meet "The Hybrid's Therapist" and makes a huge, life-changing discovery. Word count: 6,3k+

Y/N POV

Three days. That's how long it took the original family to get me acquainted with everything that happened in those missing years. They found a new member of the family, killed their parents (and crazy aunt) again, and ruled New Orleans just like "in the old, good times." That was too much information to get in that short time. Especially since I was drunk for half of it. Bekah and Kit-kat made the decision to get to know me and Freya by attending parties every night. It was fun at first. But when the hangover came to me the morning after, it wasn't funny anymore. At least I made a new friend.

"Earth to Y/N!" someone screamed at me and pushed, making me fall from the kitchen chair. I groaned in pain, rubbing my sore butt.

"Kol Mikaelson. Do you wish to die on this awful morning?"

"It's 11am." he replied, annoyed. The 10th-century maniac always started his day with the crowing of the hens. I was unworthy (or too lazy) to participate in this mystery of the rising sun.

"I told you. Morning."

"I'm sorry, but I, unlike others, have a real problem on my hands, and I don't have time to deal with your bitter, hangover attitude."

"I apologize for your grace. What is so important that you have to hurt people this morning? You broke one of Klaus' paintings or finally stole his precious daggers?"

"That's better." I gave him a stern look. "Relax, darling. I was joking."

"Not appreciated."

"God. I don't know why my brother likes you."

"Hey! Elijah is my friend; of course he likes me." I replied offended.

"Not these ones. And not in a platonic way." my amused, kind smile faded at his suggestion.

"You know what? I'm too hungry to… what did you say? Deal with your attitude?" I said with a mean smirk on my way out of the kitchen.

"No! Wait a second!" he used his vampire speed to stand before me. "I'll make you breakfast. Just help me."

"What will you cook?" I asked, crossing my arms.

"Scrambled eggs?"

"I want waffles."

"Waffles?"

"Uhm. With cherry jam, whipped cream, and strawberries."

"You're going to be fat."

"And very happy. You don't want me to be happy?" I gave him my best puppy eyes.

"Alright, alright. Three waffles then." he agreed, heading to the cooker.

"Six." I corrected him, sitting down at the kitchen island across from him to watch him cook my food.

"Seriously?" he gave me an incredulous look.

"I told you. I'm hungry."

"My God, watch over your future husband."

"And his bank account." Kol burst out laughing as he started cooking my breakfast. "So? What can I help you?"

"It worked. I have a real date with Davina."

"Congratulations." I nodded as I poured myself a glass of orange juice.

"Thank you. But now, as she said yes, I have to make this day unforgetable and amazing."

"I'm starting to worry about you. Are you feeling fine? How many fingers do you see?" I asked, showing him two fingers in front of his face. He snorted, pushing my hand away.

"This is very funny, but I need your help."

"Why me? I mean, you have two older sisters and two older brothers who have probably been in many more relationships than me. They know how to flirt better than me." I inquired, feeling uncomfortable about assisting a 1,000-year-old vampire in picking up a girl when the number of my ex-boyfriends was limited to only one.

"Oh, you'd be surprised…" he says, looking at me with a little smile. "Maybe they have some... romantic experience, but they are over a thousand years old. And Davina is from these times, like you. You know what I'm trying to say?"

"Usually? No. But let's say this time I understand that you called your sibling pensioners. So, tell me something about your girl. I need to know her likes."

~•♤♤♤•~

*After some time*

"I think that's all." he handed me my food, looking at me expectantly.

"Well... I think you shouldn't take her on your first date to any fancy restaurant, cinema, or theater."

"Then what?"

"You're a good cook. Make her something and go boating on the river at night. You know stars and constellations, tell her about them after dinner. But don't make yourself a genius, women usually don't like this."

"Do you think that's enough?"

"You can scatter rose petals on the deck and decorate it with lights. But definitely don't take the poor girl to Paris, or you'll overwhelm her. Save something special for significant dates, like big anniversaries or something."

"You sure?"

"Trust me, women like it when a man makes an effort. She'll be delighted if you do everything yourself. A pampered vampire prince flying around town to fulfill her every little whim and do something special for her? She will love it."

"Vampire prince?"

"Please... like your family doesn't act like royalty."

"Does that mean I'm the king, love?" Klaus came to the kitchen with a little girl in his arms. God. This man looked too hot while he was holding a child.

"Absolutely not. But this sweetheart in your arms is a true princess. Yes, Hope?" I asked, giggling, when she started laughing after I tickled her. I was so fascinated by the sweet child that I didn't notice the look a holding her hybrid was giving me.

"If I remember correctly, this is not your babysitting week. Have you been stealing her from Hayley for three days because you missed her, or do you have another reason, brother?" Kol asked, snapping me out of my trance. This child could easily charm people around her.

"Did you steal her?" I asked indignantly.

"I am her father, love." he replied, looking at me offended.

"What's your point?"

"I can't steal my own child."

"Well, since you don't get along too well with her mother, I believe you can. Did he steal you, angel?" I asked her as she started to grab my hair in her little hand, forcing Klaus to lower himself to my level so the little princess wouldn't fall out of his arms.

"No, I don't. Hayley knows where she is. You two don't have to worry." I gave him a chair so he could sit next to me and not have to do gymnastics with the little troublemaker he held.

He sat her on his lap so she had better access to my bracelets, which turned out to be her next interest. I giggled as I watched her mumble over the pendant of a silver witch flying on a broomstick towards a diamond moon. A birthday present from her father. Talking about the hybrid, he also probably appreciated the selection of my jewelry.

"May you be more like your mother, sweetheart. It would have saved her a lot of nerves." I said to her, taking the pendant away just as it was about to go to her mouth. She screamed something in her language and grabbed my finger instead, trying to drop it with her gums.

"She must have been teething." I thought, not even noticing the gentle, lovely gaze the hybrid was giving me while holding the baby.

"She has the look of the devil in her eyes. That's all me, love." I shifted my gaze to the girl's father.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

"I think we already talked about nights and beds. Did you reconsider my invitation?" he asked, smiling and leaning closer to me.

"Don't talk to me like that with a little baby in your arms. It may be traumatizing for her. Just like for me." I replied, pretending to tremble with disgust.

Kol's snort reminded both of us of his presence.

"I told you, Nik. The baby trick doesn't work on her when your baby is cuter than you. You have to find another way into her cold heart."

"Don't you have a girl to chase?" I asked, shooting him a stern look. Did each of them have to be joking about our improbable romance?

"Actually, I do Y/N." Kol came over to us, kissed Hope on the cheek, and did the same to me. Klaus's quiet growl didn't go unnoticed. "Bye darling!"

"Stop calling me like that, you're a taken man!" I shouted after him. "Idiot. What?" I asked the hybrid, who was staring at me with a strange, unfamiliar look in his eyes.

"H e did you breakfast?" he asked with a cold, impassive tone, trying to cover his emotion.

"Yeah. He wanted help, so I made him do something useful in return."

"Oh, I see. Were that cheek kiss and "taken man" talk also part of your generous help." his resentment became more audible in his voice with each passing second. He was angry. But why the fuck?

"What's wrong with you? Kol and I are friends if you expect me to act like we don't..."

"Are you two just friends?" he immediately cut me off, not caring to hear what I was about to say.

"No. We're secretly married, and I'm expecting his child. I'm madly in love with him." I said sarcastically as I was about to leave the kitchen. I didn't like the direction this conversation was going.

"Y/N." Mikaelson's firm tone of voice and the use of my name instead of his usual "love" told me he wasn't joking or playing a game after all.

I turned and took a step closer to him, so our chests met. Hope's legs were hitting me a little as she waved them around, muttering something under her breath. His eyes were all on mine. Unwanted shivers ran through me.

"Kol fell for your town witch, Davina. I helped him plan a fantastic date. That's all. Don't misinterpret our actions. That's how we talk to each other. But even if we were something more, it wouldn't be your business. I'm not your toy that you can appropriate."

"I've never said you are. Don't misinterpret my actions."

"Are you using my own words against me?"

"I don't know, love. Did I?"

He gave me a challenging look, occasionally lowering his gaze to my lips. I stood there, never thinking about how close we were until his nose brushed mine. I couldn't give him the satisfaction of backing out. He'd never kiss me anyway, would he? We did a lot of stuff, true, but a real kiss was something neither of us could do as part of our "game." At least that's how I explained my suppressed desire to be close to him.

"NIKLAUS!" Elijah's yell immediately pulled us apart. I cleared my throat, reaching out to take the little one from him.

"I'll take her to the park. Maybe we even go to the playground, what do you think, Hope? Do you want to swing with auntie Y/N?"

"I'll try my best to come to you two as fast as I can." he said, and gave me his child.

He took a moment to look at both of us, and before he left, he kissed Hope on the head. Little bastard had to give me a "goodbye kiss" in the exact same place as Kol did. And just to be clear, I wasn't blushing.

Blood just suddenly ran into my face and made me red like a tomato. Just it. It had nothing to do with a kiss from the original.

~•♤♤♤•~

3rd PERSON POV

"I hope you had a good reason to call for me, because I was that close to finally making this little, stubborn witch kiss me."

Klaus ran into a library to meet his elder brother. It appeared that he wasn't alone. Kol was right behind Elijah, proudly smiling at him. That little bastard tricked him.

"What's going on here?"

"Kol told me about your..."

"Using our niece to flirt with Y/N. How do you plead from that?" Kol chimed in on his older brother's words.

"I'm not going to talk with you about my relationship with Y/N."

"Which, by the way, doesn't exist at all." the blond man moved towards his younger brother, but the oldest Mikaelson's hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"Behave yourselves. Both of you."

"I'm sorry, brother, but as you can see, he's the one who has consistently sabotaged my plans for Y/N. Make him behave himself." he pointed an accusing finger at Kol.

"I'm trying to save you from making the great mistake of your life. As much as I love Y/N, she doesn't fit our lifestyle. If you started to date her, you'd put her in the middle of our enemies, old, crazy witches who want to kill us, or even worse, your ex-girlfriends. You'll ruin her, and she deserves something more than our family drama."

"And you, Elijah? Do you share his opinion?"

"It doesn't matter. We just... want you to reconsider your plans before it's too late."

"Yeah. Let's take Hayley as an example. She didn't end up well after a night with you. Or... both of you." Kol stopped as he saw his brothers' angry look. "Alright, that was the wrong example, but you know what I mean. She's just a human with superpowers. She wouldn't put up with all the pain that comes with being a Mikaelson."

"Yes? Then what would you say about Davina? Is she strong enough? How is she different from Y/N?"

"She was born here. From the beginning, she grew up among witches. Y/N has known our world for only 4 years. That's a short time even for a mortal."

"When exactly did you become the voice of reason in our family? I thought it was Elijah's responsibility."

"Well, someone has to, as long as he's enchanted by Petrova's charm. By the way, you're no better than him."

The hybrid was about to throw a dagger at the brazen original, but his phone rang. He gave his brother his most terrifying look and went out of the room, taking the call.

"Oh my god, I miraculously escaped this. I'm never playing bad cop in your plan again, Petrova!"

"Do you think it will really work?" Elijah asked, completely ignoring his brother's nervous outburst.

"Of course, honey. We all know that he hated when someone tried to control him or give him an order. He'll run straight to her and admit his feelings right after he deals with the new vampire group. Let's hope Y/N finally tells him how she really feels about him." Katerina stepped out of the shadows, embracing her fiancé before kissing him on the cheek (to Kol's groan of disgust).

"How did you know where he went?"

"I could convince Rebekah to turn some vampires against Klaus and Marcel to keep them busy for the rest of the afternoon. Which will give me enough time to implement plan B."

"Which is?"

"What kind of matchmaker would I be if I told you before anything really happened? Trust me, they will be officially together on the day of our wedding at the latest." she said, then kissed the smiling original passionately, not caring that they had company in the room.

"Ugh! That's too much, even for me. Get a room or something before another innocent soul sees that. Before I go. Are we still on for tonight?"

"Yes. Me and Rebekah will help you with this date, but we are not cooking. Only decorate."

"Thanks. Play nice and use protection!" he shouted as he left, causing his brother to blush. Katerina laughed, kissing the vampire's rosy cheek.

"Wanna help me set up your stupid brother with Y/N?" she inquired, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

"Why exactly are you helping him? I thought you hated him?"

"Well, besides wanting to score points in your eyes and be able to point it out to him every chance I get, I think it would be nice to have Y/N with us permanently. She's a good friend."

"It's nice to see that you're starting to think not only about yourself but also about others around you." he replied, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"Well, if you come upstairs with me, I can show you how much I think about others… pleasure."

"Are we alone?"

"Mhmm..." the original picked her up in bridal style, causing the younger vampire to laugh as he carried her up the stairs.

~•♤♤♤•~

Y/N POV

Damon called me for the fourth time that day. I have been successful at ignoring him and playing with Hope. At least until Katherine didn't join us and took my phone to hang him up.

"What does he want? I thought your group fell apart?" she asked, putting my phone back in my pocket.

"Well... let's say we are on a break." I said, trying to get my hair out of Hope's grip to set the girl on the swing.

"Do they know where you are?"

"No. Actually, I only wrote to Bonnie to say that I'm safe and she doesn't have to worry about me."

Now that I think about it, none of them took an interest in my fate. Only Bonnie. On the other hand, it didn't bother me at all. I already had people who cared about me.

Damon called again, causing Kat to grimace in annoyance.

"Please, can I pick up your phone and tell him to fu..."

"Katherine! There're children here!" I cut her off before the curse reached Hope's ears. Klaus would kill me if his daughter's first words were "fuck".

"Atherine!" I froze in place, stopping swinging the girl. Now, I think he'd rather hear that her first word was curse than Katherine.

"Ha ha. You should see your face!" the woman laughed as she continued swinging Hope.

"But... how... when... What?" I mumbled, still in shock.

"Please, I taught her my name a long time ago. That's how I won Kol's collection of wine." I felt a stone fall from my heart. I was safe. "But this is the first time she told it in front of someone other than me and Kol, so... I don't think that Klaus knew." a mischievous smirk grew on her face. Well, I guess I'll be dead after all.

"No. Absolutely not. It'll break his heart if he hears that's her first word." I stopped the swing and crouched down to be at Hope's height. "C'mon Hope. Say daddy."

"Y/N... continue like that, and Klaus would rather listen to you calling him daddy than his own child." Katherine began to tease, making my face flush uninvitedly. If I was screwed anyway, why did she have to kick me down?

"Stop it. It's a serious situation. I took her for a walk, what should I do when we return and she starts calling your name?!"

"Well, if you try to use this daddy line on him..."

"Katherine!" I stood up and yelled at the laughing vampire.

"Atherine!" she cried, waving her arms happily.

"No sweetheart. Dad. Daddy. Dada. Dad." I knelt in front of the baby once again, practically begging her to help me in my unfair battle with amused Katherine.

"That's not how you teach a child."

"And how should I know that? I'm 20 with no siblings. Hope is the first child I care for. Thinking about that, I'm surprised that Klaus even gave her to me."

"From the first seconds of her life, this little one has had a 24-hour survival school. One afternoon with an inexperienced aunt wouldn't kill her." She stopped seeing how upset I was. She took my arm and made me look into her eyes. "Hey. Do not panic. Nothing happened. I will teach her, and Klaus will never know. You don't have to worry."

"Are you sure?" I asked, looking at her unconvincingly.

"I did it once. I can do it again. In the meantime, you can go pick up alcohol for the wedding from the bar across the street."

"Did you order alcohol from the bar? Doesn't your fiancé happen to have an age-old collection of all sorts of liquors?"

"Yes, but it is not an inexhaustible well. Kol insisted that we have to start restocking our supplies this year, and for every bottle we take, he makes us add new ones. It's not my fault that moron likes a special recipe that they only make at this particular bar."

"The Mikaelsons and their picky palates." I mumbled under my breath, kissing Hope's head before leaving her alone with aunt Katherine.

I breathed a sigh of relief as I left the playground. If Klaus finds his daughter with Katherine, at least she'll be to blame for the little girl shouting her name in fascination.

Or he'll have a heart attack. Maybe it's better to warn him.

Hello half-wolfie. I just want to let you know that the little princess is with Her Majesty. Don't get mad when you see them two - I have to go and take care of the wedding (which you're not helping me with at all, Mr. Best Man). I'm getting alcohol and rings, so you're responsible for flowers and food. Good luck! :)

Mr. Big Ego: I hope you know what you're doing. Also, if flowers and food aren't a woman's thing to do?

I'll turn a blind eye to this horrible sexist discrimination just because you're probably miles away and my magic won't reach you. Back to the topic. You're an artist, and you have a pretty good sense of style, so I believe you'll do just fine. Besides, you're quite handsome. Use your charm on the women, and they'll do the job for you.

Mr. Big Ego: Thanks for the advice, I'm just trying to use it in case you hadn't noticed. ;)

My God, are you getting senile blindness? I wrote that you're "quite handsome," not "incredible hot." You've got to find a desperate woman, so go and do your job, because I'm not going to do shitwork for you, LOVE. :-*

Mr. Big Ego: I'd rather read how you call me that under other circumstances... :-/

Take what they give you.

Mr. Big Ego: We both know I can get a lot more out of you. Like those tempting, little moans a couple days ago...

Don't you happen to have something urgent to do, your grace?

Mr. Big Ego: Nothing is more important than you (and Hope). Until we meet again, my love. <3

"Boyfriend?" woman's voice brought me back to earth. I looked around, realizing I was under the bar and blocking the entrance. I was annoyed that I couldn't stop smiling since I began writing to the hybrid.

"He wishes." I replied as I put my phone away and entered the bar.

I headed straight for the bar, hoping to settle this as soon as possible and get back to my girls. I loved Katherine, but the desire to spite Klaus might outweigh her good-natured offer. I wanted to make sure she didn't teach Hope anything terrible (like "Kol," for example).

Fortunately, the bar wasn't that crowded, so I was able to get to the barmaid without any problems.

"Hi, I'm Y/N. My friend ordered some of your drinks for her wedding. I promised her I would get them. It should be booked for Petrova or Mikaelson."

"Oh yes. I know. I am Cami. It's nice to finally meet you. After all the stories I've heard about you, I feel like we've known each other for a long time."

"Klaus' psychotherapist? I thought it was at least a full-time job." the blonde giggled.

"Let's say he's making progress."

"Which doesn't explain how you know me. Is Klaus talking about me all the time, again and again? I must be the real bane of his existence."

"Actually, he's very fond of you."

"Fond of me? In what universe?"

"Wanna have a drink?"

My first thought was to say no, but the barmaid poured me a drink before I could decline her offer.

Maybe one drink won't hurt me.

~•♤♤♤•~

"Have you never been in love?" Cami asked after serving me another tequila.

In those few hours (and probably 2 bottles used to make me a drink) the blonde went back to the topic of Klaus's untrue feelings for me. Forcing me, in a way, to talk about my love conquests. I was sure that they were not as diverse and interesting as hybrids.

"I was. Long time ago. We did all these stupid, cheesy things together. Stargazing in the forest on top of his car, swimming in the lake at night, dancing in the rain. He was my date at prom. We even won the king and queen contest. But the point is that my personal experience tells me that loving him wasn't worth it at all."

"And why is that?"

"Because my boyfriend—the man I'd been dating since we were ten years old—broke up with me via fucking SMS on my 18th birthday."

"Oh."

"Yes. Oh. And please don't give me any therapist speech about that: "He was the problem, not me." I got over him a long time ago." I said, taking a sip of my drink to avoid her sympathetic gaze.

"Then why don't you want to give a chance to someone new?" I mean, it's been proven that a new relationship and crush can aid in the healing of broken hearts."

"Well, I'm assuming you can't heal something that doesn't exist anymore. Also I don't need any new love in my life; I have my friends, and they are giving me enough of it."

"For now, but what will happen if one day you would like to have your own family? A person who'll choose you above everything else in their life?"

"Please, don't even tell me that Klaus fits into this "ideal" husband-to-be for me." the woman sighed, rubbing her forehead. I smiled victoriously, knowing that I had won over Klaus' therapist and that Katherine's little ruse had failed.

"To be honest, I shouldn't do that, but desperate times and all of that." the blonde took out a small dictaphone from her pocket and played a recording after a few clicks. "A week before Elijah and Katherine's engagement party."

"All right. Let's talk about something else. How do you feel about your brother getting married to Katherine?"

"Stupid question. Of course I'm happy for him. Even if his partner leaves much to be desired."

"Well, I've heard something different."

"And what exactly?"

"That you're grumpier than usual and growl at every poor soul around you. There are also many stories in the city about you. You've gone mad because you're secretly in love with Katherine, and that's why you don't want them to get married. But my personal favorite is that you tried to steal the ring from Elijah and sell it on Amazon."

"I admit I was more… moody in the passing days, but all is well now. I'm really happy for them. Very."

"Are you sure your mood swings have nothing to do with Y/N?"

"Veto."

"Come on. We need to finally talk about her. It's the perfect time."

"You're not going to let this topic go, are you?"

"Not as long as she is an important person in your life. Rebekah told me she had an impact on you. You tried to be a better man for her! I thought only Hope had that power over you."

"Do not say that. She'd be overjoyed to learn she has any power over me."

"Would it be wrong if she listened to how important she is to you?"

"Y/N and I are… complicated. We actually never say nice things to each other. I don't even know why Rebekah told you about her."

"Your sister said you loved her. You still do. Even after a year without receiving a single call, text, or email from her. I also saw her portraits in your art room. And pencil sketches. Maybe even some sculptures…"

"I see what you're saying, but it's not my fault she's… unimaginably, incredibly beautiful. I'm just admiring her charm. As an artist, it's my duty to try to capture the depths of her eyes. Or her sweet smile when she is laughing at stupid little things she admires. That's true. I have many pictures of her, because despite my tireless efforts, I have not succeeded in presenting her beauty in a proper way. There are no paints that match the color of her eyes and hair, not even talking about her probably soft, delicate skin. No canvas big enough for her portrait will ever make me forget her or stop imagining her every time I close my eyes. She is always in my darkest nightmares or in my sweetest dreams. Every single day, she steals my thoughts, so that sometimes I find myself thinking that she is here, chasing me around my own city to make me want her more than I already do. I'm disgusted at how easily I succumbed to the magic of her charm. And the worst part is that she didn't even have to use her power to make me enchanted with herself. It looks like she has to mess with me even when she isn't around."

"I think it's enough." she said, pausing. I stared at the recorder for a good few minutes, analyzing what I had just heard. "I'll leave you with that for a while and see if Steve has already sent you crates of alcohol. Take your time."

I took a sip of my tequila. It's impossible for him to have feelings for me, right? He has a child, a city to rule, and I… I'm only 20. I don't have so much on my mind, and I wouldn't find myself in a life like his. It's something else to spend here a month than… half of my life. And even if I wanted to be with him (assuming we really love each other), I would have to become a vampire.

As if my life wasn't already complicated enough without knowing the hybrid's supposed feelings for me.

At least it can't get any worse.

"Y/N? Is that you?" Fuck. I take that back.

"Tom." I said after I turned to the place where his voice had come from. My worst fears came true.

"It's you."

"Yeah. It's me." I replied, not sharing his delight and amazement. Meeting my ex was the last thing I wanted to do after hearing Camille's recording. As if I didn't have a mess in my head anyway.

"It's good to see you."

"You don't have to lie." I replied, turning back to the bar. Not trusting his words even a little bit.

"I'm not. To be honest I… I missed you."

"What?" I asked, eyeing him properly for almost two years.

He has changed. His dark hair, which was always combed and slicked back, was tousled in all directions, adding charm and feistiness to him. He had a slight stubble on his face, and judging by the obvious fatigue on his face, life had not been kind to him either.

"Can we go somewhere private and... you know, talk?" he asked tentatively, trying to grab my hand, but I pulled away from him.

"I'm sorry, but you're like, two bloody years late. We have nothing to talk about." I got up, intending to leave the bar as soon as it was possible, so I could free myself from him. What happened in the past should remain in the past. There was no point in re-entering the same river.

"Y/N! Wait a second, please! I know I screwed up then, but please, let me at least tell you why I had to do what I've done."

"The thing is... I don't care about it, Thomas. You abandoned me in the darkest, most difficult period of my life, when I desperately needed someone to care for me, without so much as a blink of your eye. You didn't have to explain this then, so I don't want to listen to it right now."

"I did it for your safety!"

"My safety?! Please spare me that pathetic excuse. You had two years to come up with something really good, and you went with: "I did it for your safety."

"Two years ago I turned to vampire, Y/N. Ripper to be precise."

"What? But who turned you? Damon?" I asked in shock, not believing that my sweet, darling Thomas could ever turn into one of them.

"I had an accident that was quite dangerous. I was on the edge of life, so they gave me vampire blood in the hospital to help me heal, but… it didn't go right. I woke up hours ago with that uncontrollable hunger. I could only think about human blood. I was too scared to get close to you or anyone else. Damon helped me get out of town, he sent me here so I could learn how to control myself."

"He didn't tell me anything. Not even a little word. And he had known all along when he saw me crying on his brother's shoulder." if I was angry at Damon before, I am mad as hell at him now. This son of a bitch didn't deserve any help from me.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N. I tought it'd be easier for you to forget about me if I... broke your heart."

"Do not flatter yourself. It takes so much more to break it. You weren't even close enough."

"I should know. You've always been the strongest person I've ever met."

"Don't act like you still care about me." I growled, moving backward with each step he took towards me, until I hit the wall behind me.

"Y/N. I have no idea what you've been through these two years, but all I know is that when I was gone, all I could find myself thinking about—all I could remind myself of my old life—was you and our time together. I've never stopped loving you, Y/N. I don't think I could ever do. But I had to leave. Otherwise, I could hurt you. Only here could I learn to control myself and my primal hunger for blood. The mere fact that somehow, from all places in the world, you found yourself here proves that we are meant for each other."

"Stop it. You can't just show up after a year and tell me all of this as if nothing happened. You left me. You break up with me by fucking SMS. Did you even know how it hurt me? You, of all people, promised me that we... we would last forever. And I believed you. I don't think I could ever trust you again."

"I know, honey. I know I fucked up, but all I can do right now is prove to you that I would never, ever leave you and hurt you like this again. Just give us one more chance."

"And what if I have someone? What if I've already found the one man who would never even consider hurting me? Who would rather tear the world apart than see me in pain?" I asked, staring hard into his eyes.

"Do you truly have that someone, honey?" he replied, rubbing a tear from my cheek with his thumb that had unknowingly flown from my eye.

"I... I..." I really would. But I don't know if I'll ever be able to tell him what I really want.

Before I could answer him, the dark-haired man came closer to me and connected our lips in a tender, longing kiss. I shivered as, for no reason, I felt watched.

What was truly terrifying to me was that I didn't feel anything but guilty. But I shouldn't be... right? I was a free, single woman.

Then why did I feel like I was doing something wrong? Why didn't I have any butterflies around my first love? Why all I could think about was how much better Klaus' lips would be on mine?

"Please, don't give up on us." he said, resting his brow on mine.

"Tommy I... I..." Why didn't I feel anything?

"Y/N? Are you okay?" I was almost glad to hear Camille's confused, worried voice. She must have noticed my red eyes from crying and possibly my makeup smudged by tears.

"Yes. Thomas was leaving, right?"

"Here. If you changed your mind." he slipped a piece of paper into my hand and kissed my forehead before obediently leaving the bar.

"Who was that guy? Does he hurt you? Should I call…"

"No! There's no need. Tom would never hurt me. Not deliberately." I cut her off before she could say HIS name. I didn't need another dose of confusion in my head.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I will come home. I think that's enough excitement for one day."

"Okay. I'll call you tomorrow. Just to check if everything is fine."

"There's no need." I responded, unaccustomed to the other's concern about me.

"You know I'm a good friend too. Not just a pseudo-therapist for a bloodthirsty millennial vampire." I smiled involuntarily, feeling some of my overwhelming emotion disappear after her little joke.

"I'll remember that for next time."

"Bye Y/N! It was nice to finally meet you." I waved to her as I crossed the exit from the bar.

As I turned to head towards the mansion, I noticed someone hiding in the darkness and staring at the bar's window. Someone who was as broken as I never imagined he could be.

Shit. He saw us. But why did I care?

And then, when our eyes met, I knew that my decision about me and Thomas would be much harder than I had previously thought. And it was at this point in our game that Klaus and I had to finally define who we had to be to each other. It would be the hardest choice of my life.

A terrible (but true) thought crossed my mind.

I'm a freaking Elena Gilbert.

~•♤♤♤•~

Hi everyone! I just wanted to thank you for every heart and follow; I really appreciate it. <3 For anyone who is interested, this "story" will have like 5 or 6 parts in total.

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hydrangea-mon-amor · 2 years ago

Text

Visit me, will you?

Yandere! Male OC x reader

Trigger warning! Yandere behavior, obsessive behaviors, non consensual touch, forced relationship, forced proximity, Murder (message me privately if you feel I need to add more)

Side note — if you read the trigger warning and still were triggered by the content (or any that I’ve wrote) please message me ASAP and tell me about it. This goes for all of my works, but I do not mean harm writing these stories and the content of my blog are dark and heavy. I DO NOT condone this behavior and if any of you see yourself in a situation like this I urge you to seek help.

AUTHORS NOTE: please everyone if you see yourself in a situation even slightly like this I urge you to seek help and assistance. There are actual creeps out in the world that pretend to be kind and good but really just leech off of you. And with a closing note, I do note condone any of the obsessive behavior in this fic! There is a distinct line of fantasy and reality and this work is pure FANTASY.

Summary! Your boyfriend has a game tomorrow and coerced you agree to come. The next day at school your friends had enough of your constant absence and forces you to hang out with them. You ultimately agree because in truth: this is what you needed, a day with them and not your boyfriend. You did not expect your boyfriend to get wind of this and the fallout that ensues.

— AGAIN IF ANY OF THE TRIGGER WARNING I LISTED TRIGGERS YOU THEN PLEASE DONT READ FURTHER.

Your uncomfortable.

You try to lay steadily in your stalkers boyfriends bed, but with how tightly his hands are wrapped against you, you can’t find it in yourself to continue. It doesn’t help with the fact that he’s sloppily giving kisses to your neck.

“Hey, could we maybe switch positions?” You try to urge, but it only had the opposite effect. His hold on you tightens and he leans in closer to you.

“I like this position baby.” You adamantly cringe at the pet name.

“Will you come to my game tomorrow baby?”

You know you can’t say no, the last time you did your boyfriend got so upset he cried for two straight hours begging you on his knees to reconsider. Claiming that if you didn’t come you didn’t love him anymore.

“Sure, I’ll see if my schedule—“

He tightens his hold.

You can barely breathe.

“You will come, won’t you?” He asks in a sweet tone but you know the true meaning.

“I-yes I’ll come.” His hold loosens and he continues coddling you.

You pray that he’ll let you go in a couple of hours. Because even that is a blessing from him.

✎……. ✎……. ✎……. ✎……. ✎……

The day of the game your at lunch at your boyfriends table. Which If your honest is just the popular kids all together. You try not to make eye contact with your boyfriends ex-girlfriend Valery. Her family is said to be really famous doctors with a hospital in your city. You don’t think she gives two fucks about you because honestly, she looked happier.

You would be too if you weren’t here.

“So Jaydee excited for the game?” Oscar, one of his best buds asks.

“Of course man, especially since I got my amazing boyfriend/girlfriend to come watch. You’ll cheer for us right honey?” You nod sheepishly. You can see his friends laugh.

“Nah, they made you their bitch man. You can’t go two seconds without talking to them.”

“Or fucking them.” Jaydee adds. You jab him at the shoulder. A silent plea to stop whatever he was doing.

“Aww look, you are embarrassed. Come on sweet cheeks, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” He kisses you lightly on the head.

You want to decapitate him.

“Anyways,” Valery is the one to switch topics, and deep down your glad it’s her. “On the topic of the game, when is it going to be held?”

“8:00 pm, and our coach is deciding to be an ass about it. He’s making us practice until then. Can you believe that? Almost six hours of practicing?” Some of his teammates share in his complaint. You’re not sure what to expect when he turns to look at you. “Will you watch me at practice? I’ll make sure to put in my all if you’re there. You know how happy I get.”

“So happy your broke a kids leg from the adrenaline.” You say under your breathe. But it doesn’t go unnoticed. But you know the real reason. Jaydee, your boyfriend, decided to break his leg because he noticed him looking at you and smiling. It wasn’t even more than one glance but in your boyfriends eyes it must have been thousands. He got away with it because for 1. He’s the quarter back and 2. Everyone in his team loves him. Especially is coach. You don’t think they know that he did it on purpose, and your not sure if you do.

“Oh yeah! I remember that day, Tyler had it coming if I’m honest.” Oscar gloats.

“Tyler definitely had it coming that day.” Jaydee adds not a second later.

Tired of this you decide to make a last ditched effort to leave. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom.” You inform.

“Okay, guys I’ll be right back I’m going to walk them off.” He gets up from his seat and readies himself to walk with you.

“That won’t be needed.” You tell him.

“But—“

“Jaydee, I know where the school bathroom is, I’ll be just fine. You don’t have to loom over me like a helicopter. It’s not like I’m going to go anywhere.” You stare at him, he stares at you.

“Come on man, just let them go. What’s the worse that could happen?”

“A lot.” He says under his breath.

“What was that?” Valery questions.

“Nothing.” He looks at you again, leans into you, making it look as if he’s going to kiss your cheek. “Let me go with you baby. You know how crazy I get if I can’t have you side by side with me. You don’t want let’s say Oscar to be my next blood bag would you? Let me come with you and nothing bad will happen.” He whispers in your ear. Softly touching your cheek with his hand.

“And if I don’t?” You whisper back, curling your fists.

“You wouldn’t want to know what happens. Trust me.” He leans out, holding your hand and smiling at you. His friends look expectant of an answer.

“On second thought,” it’s torture for you to say these words, “I think I would like to have Jaydee with me.”

“Really! Thank you honey I knew you wouldn’t upset me!” He pulls you into a soul crushing embrace. Swinging you side to side, you decide to just deal with it.

His friends grimace, “okay we get it you two love and fuck each other all the time! Get a room will you, wouldn’t want to disturb your momentum.”

“Aye aye coach.” Your boyfriend replies. His voice muffled from his face being smushed into the crook of your neck. You can’t believe how you got yourself into this situation in the first place.

You can’t deal with this so you simply take the lead and start walking, your boyfriend trailing after you like a lost puppy. Once he catches up to you he snakes his hand around you waist and kisses you on the head.

“Let’s take the long way.”

“Why?”

“Because then I can be with you longer.”

Of course, you think.

“Jaydee, I’ll be quick.” His lips turn into a pout. “Jaydee.”

“Babyyyyy” he whines.

“Jaydee, like I said I will be quick. Stop acting like a baby and wait.” You try to pry his hands away from you but he doesn’t budge.

“I’m only a baby for you.”

“Clearly” you mutter to yourself. You try not to let his sometime cringe behavior get to you but goodness is it hard.

From the corner of the hallway two girls emerge and once they notice the lean build of your boyfriend they come rushing down. You silently thank whatever god you believe in, thinking that this is what will give you leeway to leave. You know the girls well. In the past they were known to have massive crushes on your boyfriend and you’re thankful that their obsession over him isn’t over. It gives you hope that he’d leave you for one of them which would mean that you would finally be free.

Jaydee’s hold on you tightens.

Of course with their not so secretive crush your boyfriend would surely hear wind of this. You know how many times he’s vented to you about them, the many times he complained about them to you. But you had hope. You hoped he would like them one day and stop caging you in like a bird.

“Hello ladies.” He greets. A practiced smile on his face. Then they both lean in to give him a hug, even surprising you. You assumed the gesture caught him off guard because he then lets you go. You don’t waste this opportunity and bolt to the nearest restroom. Letting him deal with the two girls.

However, when you get inside the bathroom you notice the silhouette of two familiar students. Your heart rate picks up. When was the last time you hung out with them? When was the last time you hanged out with your own friends? Your hand instinctively reaches for the doorknob but you can’t bring it in yourself to leave. You can’t bring it in yourself to leave the people that were with you since day one. And if things couldn’t get worse their gaze fallows yours. Now you all stand there, unblinking and unmoving. Unable to do anything expect just take in the others presence.

“Y/n?” One of them calls, almost like a question. Their voice soft and sweet and so completely welcoming. It takes everything in you to not cry. You can’t understand how they are still so sympathetic to you.

“Hello…guys.” You are sheepish and you wish to curl into a ball. You remember the countless times you rejected their offers to hang out in favor of Jaydee. The guilt crashes down onto you like a wave and it almost drowns you.

“It’s been a while.” Your other friend says.

“It has, hasn’t it?” You agree.

The air is still for a while, none of you say anything for a protracted moment. Until your friend can’t handle it anymore and bluntly blurts out:

“Hang out with us. Come to the movies or something, play video games with us or fuck it take a walk with us just spend some time with your friends. Ever since you got a boyfriend seven months ago you been ignoring us like the plague, rejecting invites, blowing off our calls, ditching us—“

“And it’s been torture ever since!” You blurted.

“Y/n…” you seem to realize of what you just said.

“Never mind forget I said anything.” You turn to leave when you feel a hand clasping around yours.

“Movies at 8:00pm. Take it or leave it. But please take it.” You stare at them. They just had to pick the time that syncs with your boyfriends game.

“I’ll…think about it.” Your friends shake their head.

“No Y/n, you are coming.”

“But—“

“No if’s or buts you’re hanging out with us and that is final. No more screwing us off in favor for you dipshit of a boyfriend.”

“I—okay fine. I’ll come.” You turn your back with your friends smiling off their victory.

You step outside the bathroom your boyfriend waiting patiently. His feet tapping against the floor tiles, arms crossed and a ticked off expression.

“Those two bitches tried to get my number.” He states. Tugging you into his embrace. “You know how hard I had to try to get them off of me, how many time I had to remind them that I was already taken and belonged to someone else? That i belonged to you. But nooo, they wouldn’t let up and I just got so mad that I guess I kind of lost it.” He chuckles bitterly. But you start to get scared, and rightly so.

“Jaydee…what did you do?”

“Don’t worry about it baby, let’s go to class yeah? The bell is going to ring in a few minutes.”

The school day ends with Jaydee walking you to your locker. His arms on your shoulder matching your pace. When you first started dating him you thought it was cute but now you’re just revolted by it. But you don’t attempt to break up with him anymore, not after what happened the last time.

“Come to my practice in preparation for the game yeah?”

“Jaydee about that, I’m actually busy. Sorry but I can’t come.” His face drops.

“But…why? Was it something I did, why won’t you come?” You scan the area, grateful no one is in the hall you two are in.

“It’s nothing you did I just have plans.” He seems to prick up from this.

“Plans? With who? Where? Why? Why are you ditching me baby? I thought you loved me, I thought you loved us!” He’s getting more desperate now. Both of his hands on your shoulders, gripping you like he’ll die if he won’t. “I-I’ll get you anything you want! N-new shoes? I’ll just get my sister to buy it for you, she’ll understand. I-I promise! Please just come! C-come cheer me on! And then when the game is over we can go back to my house and play a movie and c-cuddle! Y’know, like what we always do!”

“Jaydee we always go to your house.”

“I don’t care you like it better, and it’s bigger.”

“Never thought you were the materialistic type.”

“Course not, my type is you.” You may have fallen for that if you actually loved him.

“Jaydee, I’m not going to be able to make it.” You try to say for the last time. He looks as if he is contemplating.

“Fine.” You’re shocked.

“Really?” He nods his head.

“Consider it a reward. You’ve been good since…the last time.” He’s referring to the time you tried to break up with him and leave. Like he would let you do that twice. “But,” he moves to hold your hands “you will come to my game. Promise me you will.” You clench your fists. Damn your friends, couldn’t have they pick a different time to watch the movie?

“Jaydee I’m sorry but—“

“Promise. Say that you will. I need to hear it, I need to hear you say that you’ll come. I think I’ll die If I don’t. You don’t want me to hurt myself would you baby? Of course you won’t, you love me! You wouldn’t want to the future father of your kids hurt because of you, now would you? But even then, if I did hurt because of you, I’d still love you. With. Every. Fiber. Of. My. Being.“ the worst part is, you don’t doubt him one bit.

“And If I don’t?”

“Then you won’t like the aftermath of what happens.” His attention is driven elsewhere when he notices his coach waving him over. “Have to go now sweet cheeks, meet you at my game?” You shakily nod. “See? That’s the angel I know.” He presses a kiss to your cheek before jogging off.

Do you listen to him and go to his practice to then sit through his game? No, you decide to listen to your friends and hang out with them instead.

✎……. ✎……. ✎……. ✎……. ✎……

You arrive to your house late into night, a smile widely spread across your cheeks. You’ve forgotten how fun it was to be with your own people instead of trying to fit into a friend group that you don’t belong in.

The whole time you were out not once have you used your friends. That is for two reason, 1. You didn’t want text messages disturbing your time with your friends and 2. You specifically didn’t want Jaydee’s texts filling your messages. Undoubtedly Sues that he would be inconceivably mad and irritated.

However when you decide to go to the bathroom you hear a ding on your phone. You decide that it’s time you finally check what’s been going on, but when you do you feel your heart sink.

JAYDEE AKA MONSTER: baby where are you? I don’t see you amongst the crowd.

JAYDEE AKA MONSTER: baby you said you’d come, why can’t I see you? Are you running late.

JAYDEE AKA MONSTER: sweet cheeks please respond I’m getting worried, I’ve asked everyone on my team if they saw you they say they haven’t.

JAYDEE AKA MONSTER: honey our game is going to start in a few minutes if I don’t see your face in the crowd I’m going to be upset. You don’t want me to be upset would you?

JAYDEE AKA MONSTER: baby?

JAYDEE AKA MONSTER: why won’t you answer me!

But none of these messages could amount to the absolute fear you feel from the last one.

JAYDEE AKA MONSTER: wow honey, I can’t believe this. Valery told me everything.

Delivered 10:17pm.

You fucked up. You know you fucked up. You look at your phone again, this time three little dots pop up making you aware that Jaydee has definitely seen that you’ve read his messages and he still has one last thing to say.

JAYDEE AKA MONSTER: Y/n, if you don’t want to be punished more than I intend to then I suggest you walk to my place now.

You don’t question him one bit.

When you get to his front porch you knock on Jaydee’s door five times. A few minutes later his sister opens the door, the famous model Dante.

“It’s you.”

“It’s me.” You’re sheepish. Dante looks behind her.

“You should get in before things get worse for you, Jaydee is not happy.” She leans back into her house and holds the door while you walk inside.

You forgot how mentally deranged his whole family is. You remember hearing a rumor in the news that Dante herself kidnapped someone. You don’t have the guts to ask her personally though.

“He’s in the basement.” Dante tells you, a popsicle in her mouth.

“Oh uh, thank you.”

“You won’t thank me after what you’ll see. That’s for sure.” You try not to let her words get to you but you also don’t take her lightly.

You’ve been to Jaydee’s house multiple times before, times where you were actually proud to call him yours. When this house felt like a second home, and you actually loved him.

You tiptoe until you get to the door that leads to the basement. Already you smell a metallic stench.

This isn’t good.

“Jaydee? I’m here! Please—please don’t do anything so rash.” Your voice is meek. Actually, you don’t think your voice had enough volume to it to be heard by anyone. You tiptoed quietly until you’ve reached the bottom. You wait a few minutes, and you don’t see the presence of anyone in here. But the metallic stench reeks the air and fills your nostrils. You can hardly bare it.

“Baby!”

You whip your head around.

“J-Jaydee? Is that you?” You can’t help but stutter. Your boyfriend is covered from head to tow in blood. His face is smeared in red and his clothes drenched. There is a steel knife in his hand, that too coated in blood.

He pouts.

“What? You’re saying you don’t remember your own boyfriend? Aww baby you’re so silly. If I didn’t love you the way I did, I think I would have gotten offended. Could thing I’m not though, right?” You stare at his blood soaked body and knife.

“Jaydee I don’t think this is—“

“Come come! I have something to show you.” He doesn’t give you time to speak, already he is tugging onto your arm. You use your free hand to clog your nose. He leads you to a cleared out space in the basement. For the hundredth time in this relationship your heart drops.

“Tada! Do you like my present?” In two tied chairs sat two people bound in ropes. Their eyes are gouged out of the sockets, layers of skin skinned off and in some areas burnt. Their bones are cracked in odd angles and pieces of muscle sliced from their bodies. If it weren’t for their clothes you’re not sure you would know who they were and the significance of them.

They were you friends. And Jaydee had just killed them. Tears prick at the sides of your eyes, how can you even begin to comprehend this? And worst of all, how can Jaydee look at you like this was your fault? A smile ear to ear plastered on his face. He finally drops the knife and in its place he reaches for you. He pulls you into his embrace, the blood on him now coating onto you. “Your reaction is enough to show me this was an adequate way to punish you. It’s okay, this is all you have to go through tonight. I promise I won’t make you feel like a burden in our relationship anymore.”

Burden?

You’re too caught up in your emotions that you haven’t even realized you’ve said that out loud. “That’s why you decided to not be with me today isn’t it? I give other girls and guys too much of an idea don’t I? That’s why you’ve decided to hang out with those…hindrances, because I wasn’t giving you enough attention right? Don’t you understand baby? I had to do this, I had to get rid of them. This is a testament to my love for you, don’t you get it? This was all for you.”

“But this wasn’t even about other people—“

He squeezes you tighter.

“Don’t you get it baby? I don't give a fuck about all the other girls, I've rejected them, all of them. You know why? Because I want you. The only person I need, really need is you. I love you darling.”

You cry bitterly into his shoulder.

“Oh, I almost for got to tell you. I have a final game next week, it’s supposed to close this season. Visit me, will you?”

#yandere #yandere blurbs #yandere male #yandere original character #yandere scenarios #yandere x you #reader x yandere #obsessive #Jaydee B Hallaghar x reader

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