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celestelunia · 2 months

Note

Hi!! I’ve been loving your writing so far! And I agree, there’s not enough Ruggie love! mayhaps we can get a Ruggie x fem!reader is like Mitsuri Kanroji from demon slayer? Like she’s all happy and touchy and he’s just really flustered by everything she does (not sure if you’re comfortable talking about body types because Mitsrui is very curvy, so if you want to pls do!) the ending is up to you, just make it super fluffy

🩷

Hi 🩷-san!

I'm so glad you've been enjoying my writing so far!! Thank you! >w<

I'm so sorry this took so long! I'll be honest....I've only seen the 1st season of demon slayer. Shame on me! I need to continue watching it lol

Not sure if this is true to Mitsuri's character, but I tried my best. 🫶 It's one of the reasons this took so long 😆

TW: Guy being rude and pushy. Reader has a curvy body.

"Here! I got this for you. Make sure you stay hydrated!"

"I had some extra sandwiches that I packed for you. Here~"

"Oh. Your hair is a bit of a mess. Let me fix it for you."

Ruggie just sat on a bunch with his hands in his lap with a deep blush on his face. His ears were flat against his head as he felt you run your hand through his hair. Outside of the physical affection, it also didn't help that your rather busty chest was right in front of his face! He didn't know where to look!!

He wasn't sure why you started to dote and pamper him, but all Ruggie knew was he didn't know how to handle it. The hyena had to always fend for himself. To find his own food and to help provide for his family and friends back home. This sudden onslaught of attention left him feeling at a loss.

Not that it was a bad feeling or anything. Being treated with kindness by a beautiful and sexy woman was surprisingly....nice. More so than he would have thought, considering how females were back in the Sunset Savanna.

"There we go." You said after removing your hand from his hair. "You really need to learn to take better care of yourself, Ruggie."

Ruggie just nodded his head before glancing away from you with his face still red. "Y-yeah." Even the tone you used with him was so sweet and caring! His heart was having a hard time handling it! Clearing his throat, the hyena stood up as he gave you a small smile. "Got class coming up soon, so I'll catch you later."

"Okay. I have some time after classes today if you want to go out together? I heard they have a new flavor of donut." You said with a smile as you noticed his ear twitch at the mention of his favorite food.

"I'll meet you by the statues of the sevens after class." Ruggie said with a smile before he headed off to class.

As you watched him leave, you turned to head towards your own class. You have always admired Ruggie's tenacity, and despite what people thought of him, you liked him, and other people's opinions weren't going to change what you saw.

After the day came to an end, you stood by the statues of the great seven as you waited on Ruggie. A short while later, he came running up to you before the both of you headed off into town.

"You seem to be enjoying yourself." You said with a laugh as you watched Ruggie happily munch away on a couple of donuts he was holding.

"Of course. You can't go wrong with a good donut." He replied with a grin. "Wait here. I'll go grab us something to drink." He said before heading off towards a small stall that was selling drinks.

As you waited for Ruggie to return, you were suddenly addressed by some random stranger.

"Here there, beautiful." The man said grin as his eyes moved up and down your body. "How about we go get something to eat? I'll show you a good time."

Instantly, an annoyed look crossed your face as you made no effort to hide it. "I'm with someone." You said, hoping they would get the point that you had no interest.

"Come on, baby. Don't be like that. We can have some fun together." The strange said as he moved closer to you. The look he was giving you made you feel sick. It was a look you've gotten before and one you hated. The look like you were just some kind of object or plaything. It wasn't like you were aware of your body or looks, but you also didn't see any reason to be ashamed either. It's annoying people like this guy who needed to learn boundaries.

Just as the stranger started to reach out towards you, you took a step back but stopped when you noticed he seemed to be struggling.

""W-what...the....?" The man grunted as his body shook lightly before he turned around and started to walked towards a large fountain that was nearby. As he reached the edge, you watched as he man suddenly threw himself into the fountain as water splashed up.

With surprise writen all over your face you suddenly heard a voice as someone walked past you towards the man who suddenly gasped as he emerged from thr water in the fountain.

"The lady said she wasn't interested." Ruggie said as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Hope the water here helped to cool you down a bit."

"You bastard! What did you do to me?!" The man yelled as he pulled himself out of the fountain.

"Not that it's any of your business, but you should consider yourself lucky that all I did was make you to a bath. If you want to see what I'm really capable of, then by all means, continue to make an ass out of yourself. I don't mind at all. Shyeheehee." He said with a grin as he waited for the man's next move.

Unsure of this hyena power and the whispers coming from the crowd that was form, the man just huffed before he turned around and left.

"Damn jerk." Ruggie whispered under his breath. While he was waiting in line for the drinks, he happened to glance over and noticed some guy getting a bit too close to you and how uncomfortable you looked. In that moment, Ruggie felt his skin crawl at the sight, and before he knew it, he had already activated his signature spell on the guy. No one messed with you like that!

As he turned around to check on you, Ruggie let out a small "oof" when a body came colliding into his. Stumbling back a bit, he glanced down to see you with your face hidden against his chest and your arms wrapped around him in a hug.

Feeling his face grow hot again, Ruggie just kept his arms up as he wasn't sure what to do. "A-are you okay?" He asked as he blushed heavily at the feeling of your body pushed up against his.

"Thank you..." You muttered against Ruggie's chest before she slowly glanced up at him. "I always feel safe with you."

Ruggie froze as he felt like he had been just shot through the heart as you looked up at him with your large eyes and the light blush that dusted your cheeks. Ahhhh! He really was becoming weak when it came to you.

Relaxing a bit, Ruggle slowly returns the hug before he places his hand against the back of your head. "You don't have to worry when you're with me." He said without thinking, and almost immediately, he wanted to slap himself. Since when did he become so corny!? You, on the other hand, just smiled as you pushed yourself up closer to Ruggie's face.

Once close enough, you placed a gentle kiss against his cheek before smiling. "As thank you for being my knight, I'll treat you out to some dinner."

Feeling like his heart was going to explode from his chest, Ruggie cleared his throat before he took your hand in his. "Let's just enjoy the rest of our date."

At the word date, you felt your eyes widen at the fact that he said it first and the fact that you had been debating on how to officially as him out. Feeling an overwhelming sense of happiness, you wrapped yourself around Ruggie's arm before smiling. "Mm!" You really couldn't have asked for anyone better to be with.

#twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #x reader #twst #twst x reader #ruggie bucci x reader #ruggie x reader #celeste lunia writing

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klausysworld · 11 months

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hiii, hope you’re doing well :D

Would you be down to write a piece where Klaus is married to a human doctor or nurse and every time he comes back after a fight and is wounded, reader patches him up. And Klaus is like u know I heal. And she’s like shut up and sit. Klaus smirks and obeys as he secretly loves getting tended to by wifey.

Healing Hands

I worried for Klaus daily and nightly. Whether he was immortal or not, pain is pain.

Watching him stumble through the front door bloodied and bruised always made my heart drop. He was careless with himself, if they didn't have the white-oak stake then he didn't worry. He often reminded me that he wouldn't die even if they tore his heart out or burnt him alive.

To be honest that didn't help my fears at all.

I would always look after him after he was injured. Whether it was a couple scrapes here and there or if it was something much, much worse.

For instance, today was simply awful.

Klaus had been missing for nearly three full days when Elijah and Rebekah came in through the door, holding him up. I rushed down the stairs and helped him back up them. Once we got him onto his bed I got my bag out which was essentially a very big first aid kit with a couple extra items, like my surgical string and curved suture needles.

I looked up to find Klaus looked back at me with a small smile on his blood stained lips.

"I'm okay" he whispered raspily.

"No...you're not" I told him and he sighed softly as I opened his blood soaked shirt to expose the very slowly healing stab wounds that carved deep into his abdomen and chest.

"I just need some blood, I'll heal in seconds" he mumbled

"Then I'll put you on a blood drip" I remarked while gently running antiseptic wipes over his wounds, trying not to let his wincing bother me.

"Love-"

"Just be quiet Nik" I whispered "Just let me help"

"okay" he murmured softly, giving in rather quickly which was more and more common recently. I gave a small smile back to him before continuing to carefully stitch him up where he should need it.

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

(switch to 3rd person)

He kept still, his eyes closing as he felt her healing hands caress him better.

Klaus would never admit how much he secretly enjoyed her tending to him. It always reminded him of how much she loved him. No matter what was wrong, she was right there with bandages and wipes to help sooth his hurt.

Usually it was accompanied by a warm bath afterwards, her bare body against his while she traced the places where wounds once were. She would proceed to kiss each spot and then, at last, his lips. Then he would thank her quietly to which she would simply dismiss and once more tell him to be quiet so she could 'treat' him in another way.

By the time they're out of the water, they're probably dirtier than when they got in but neither one of them could care once they were curled up together again.

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

(Back to 1st)

I had my head on his chest, tilted back to gaze up at him. My fingertips danced patterns across his broad chest while his brushes against my scalp.

The room was dark, the curtains closed and door locked. A comfortable silence had been around us for a good while now, our love for one-another always lingered in the air and both our eyes seemed to grow tired as we looked deep into each other.

His rough yet quiet voice broke the quiet but I didn't mind.

"I'm sorry I was gone for so long" he whispered and I smiled softly.

"It wasn't you fault...I'm sorry I wasn't much use in finding you" I always felt a little helpless when it came to saving people. Being a human my skills weren't ever helpful. I tried of course but I would never be as strong or intelligent as those who have lived for centuries.

"I never want you to spend restless nights looking for me. You must know by now that I will always come back to you alive, and you will always be here waiting I hope." His hand stroked the skin of my face making my lashes flutter as I nodded

"I'll always be here, I'll always look after you" I promised. I feel his forehead press to mine, the soft curls of top his head which have grown a little long tickle my face gently.

"And I you sweetheart" he smiled and so did I

"I love you Niklaus" I whispered quietly, kissing his cheek gently

"I love you more, my little nurse"

(Sorry this is so short)

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miss-oranje-disco-dancer · 29 days

Text

blue butterflies

pairing: jackson! joel miller x reader

cws/tags: 1st person pov joel, angst, discussions of sex trafficking/sexual assault, death, mild smut, au where nothing bad happens between ellie and joel, author has not played tlou 2 yet (donate to kofi lmao), guns, alcohol consumption, light enemies to lovers, cordyceps works different in this one (more predictable and slower-acting)

summary: joel's letter to reader

a/n: i watched the beginning of tlou (joel playing guitar) and it made me cry so hard. so, this is inspired by that, but also i listened to funeral by arcade fire and for emma, forever ago by bon iver while writing this. neighborhood #4 (7 kettles) by arcade fire makes me cry so hard.

wc: 5.7k

taglist: @gothcsz @harriedandharassed @withonly-sweetheart

thank you to @jennaispunk for beta reading/proofreading !

join my taglist | purchase a commission

divider is from @danowh0re

playlist for fic: required listening!!

I thought therapy was a bunch of bullshit - a scam at worst, a waste of my time at best. But, since you left us, Tommy’s been making me go. He keeps saying, ‘it’s what she would’ve wanted’, and I think it is. But, that doesn’t mean I like it.

My therapist told me if I’m not gonna talk to her about my past, I should at least talk to someone. I told her I’d talk to you, if you were here. She told me it was a good idea, that I should write it out in a letter. She told me I could write to you, or to Sarah, but I figured I’d better write to you ‘cause there’s some things a daughter shouldn’t hear about her dad. Even - especially - the most fun times he’s had. I’ll get to those later.

Did you know I hated you when we first met? I never told you, but I think you knew. I thought you were a self-important, entitled bitch who acted like she’d been through hell when I knew she hadn’t because of how well-adjusted she seemed. I thought you had some sort of unearned valor. I know that’s not the right way to put it. I think the word I’m looking for is ‘respect’. Tommy, Maria, even Ellie were so quick to respect you when I had to earn it.

“The reason people don’t like you is because you’re an asshole,” you told me. “You’re fucking scary when you’re mad, too.”

“What’s that saying? It’s better to be feared than to be loved?”

“That’s what Machiavelli said, but that doesn’t mean he’s right.”

I think he was wrong. I was jealous of how much everyone loved you, and they didn’t love me because they feared me. You were so fucking right, and that was one of the things that I hated most about you.

I used to think about how young you were in comparison to an old man like me, how you were only a little younger than Sarah would’ve been, and how stupid I would’ve felt if Sarah was always outsmarting me. Until I remembered all the times that Sarah did just that, and how much I loved her for it, rather than in spite of it. (Note to self: tell Sarah this in your letter to her).

That’s not to say I loved you, not yet. I did love you, but I realized that a little later. I had to learn to like you first.

Do you remember our first day out on patrol together? I begged Tommy to change my schedule. I would rather have spent my time with anyone else in the community -- Hell, I would’ve asked Tommy to give you a day off if it’d get me out of having to work alongside you.

You overheard me talking to Tommy, and said to me, “You could at least wait until I’m out of earshot to bitch about me, you know?”

“I know,” I said.

And we didn’t talk for almost the whole shift. Well, I didn’t talk, but you kept on talking, almost like you were talking to yourself. You didn’t even care that I was ignoring you.

“It’s okay. I don’t like people either.”

“Who says I don’t like people?”

“Your face, your voice, basically your whole demeanor.”

You were so honest, and you had every right to be. It shut me right back up again. I don’t know if that’s what you wanted. Maybe you thought provoking me would make me talk, but I’m a stubborn, old asshole. I don’t think you need me to tell you that.

“What did I do to piss you off?” You asked, after I gave you what you viewed as the silent treatment, and what I saw as peace and quiet.

“Nothing. I just think you’re a little bit... egotistical.”

“So are you. You think you know everything.”

“No, but I know more than you. You haven’t got half the experience I have, and believe me, kid, you don’t want it.”

“You’re so melodramatic. And for what? Has the brooding bad boy behavior gotten you laid yet?”

For your information, yes, it had absolutely gotten me laid.

But before I could tell you that, you stopped me, looked me dead in the eye, and said, “and by the way, you have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Tell me, then.”

“Tell you what?”

“About all the horrors you’ve experienced. If I’m so wrong, then prove it.” I challenged you because I thought you wouldn’t be able to come up with anything. I wouldn’t have said that if I’d known what I do now.

You were so angry that you laughed at me. “Fuck you. You don’t deserve to know shit about me.”

A couple weeks later we knew each other’s whole life stories. I told you more than I’ve ever told anyone else, more than I think I ever will tell anyone else. It started when we got lost in the woods together. We were arguing as usual, and we only got ourselves even more lost. The sun was starting to go down, and I could see it in your eyes - you were getting scared. Maybe, for a second, I took some sort of satisfaction in knowing that you were the one who couldn’t handle it, but I’m still human - it feels a little cruel saying that now - so I wasn’t gonna let you suffer.

“It’s not gonna do us any good to keep arguing, so can we agree to drop it?”

“Truce,” you said, holding out your hand, and when I shook it, you added, “but let it be known that you surrendered.”

“Don’t push it. You know if we stay out here long enough that we have to resort to eating each other’s flesh, you’re gonna be my dinner, not the other way around.”

“I hope I taste good.”

You did, baby. You’re the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.

I think we had our first date that night. Sort of. It was late when we got back. Most people were asleep, and the bar was closed, but you had the key.

“Tommy gave you a spare key?”

“Uh-huh. I assumed you had one too, but I guess I’m the favorite.”

“You’re prettier than me. Of course, you are.”

I still can’t believe I said that -- I wasn’t even drinking yet. I can be a real idiot when I’m talking to a beautiful woman.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. You looked very pretty when you bothered to wash your hair last week.”

“I wash my hair, okay? Sorry I’m old and don’t wake up looking like a supermodel.”

“Who does?”

“I know you want me to say ‘you’, but I’m not taking the bait.”

“That’s okay. I know you’re thinking it, and that’s what matters.”

I was thinking much more than that, darling.

You walked behind the counter, and asked me, “what do you drink?”, and I think that was the moment I knew I liked you. You could’ve --should’ve -- told me to fuck off. You had other friends (not that we were quite ‘friends’), but you chose me that night. I was a real fixer-upper of a companion, but maybe you liked a challenge.

“Whiskey. Neat.”

You gave me that look -- that fuckin’ look -- that raised eyebrow and a tiny smirk. And it made me feel like a teenager caught staring at his crush.

“Please and thank you," I added.

You got up on the stool behind the bar, grabbed the bottle on the top shelf, and said, “you deserve it.”

“No, I don’t,” I said. “But I’ll take it.”

You sat beside me, and sipped your whiskey. (And you looked pretty hot doing it.) After a good minute of silence you said, “thank you for not killing me and eating me in the woods.”

“I’d get pretty goddamn bored if I didn’t have you yapping in my ear constantly.”

“I thought you hated it.”

“Only sometimes.”

“Then, why don’t you ever talk to me?”

“I’m talking to you right now.”

“Barely.”

So, I turned to you, put my elbow on the counter, laid my head in my hand, and gave you the same face you were giving me. I tried to pretend I was mocking you, but I think you knew I was trying to practice being more likable, being more like you.

“Tell me something,” you said.

“What do you want me to tell you?”

“Tell me about you.”

“My name is Joel Miller-”

“We’re not at AA.”

“You’re goddamn right we’re not. This would be the shittiest AA meeting ever.”

“Okay, okay. How about you tell me when your birthday is?”

“September 26th, 1981.”

“So, you’re a Libra.”

“Oh c’mon, tell me you’re not into that shit. I was finally starting to tolerate you.”

“I’m a Cancer.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Cancer like the crab, not like the disease!”

“Mm-hmm. I’m sure you’re familiar with crabs as well.”

I got a laugh and a smack on the arm in return, and the laugh was worth the smack.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I know you can’t help being an asshole, so at least you’re making me laugh.”

I didn’t realize your hand was still on my arm until you asked me, “What’d you do before this? You’ve got nice arm muscles.”

“I worked in construction, I was a contractor.”

“Like a carpenter?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s what Jesus was. I bet he had good arm muscles.”

“I don’t think that’s his most notable feature, but sure, why not?”

Despite the fact that we were talking all things Jesus, you were feeling me up. And you weren’t subtle about it at all.

“Do you wanna play darts?” you asked, breaking the tension.

“Okay.”

You walked up to the dartboard all confident, and I expected an instant bullseye. You’d only had one drink and you were focusing so hard, practicing the swing of your arm like a golfer would. The first shot missed the board entirely.

And that’s when I learned you were awful at darts.

“You’re terrible at this.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Then, why’d you ask me to play?”

“For fun. Plus, how else am I gonna get better?”

You weren’t even close to the bullseye. You weren’t even hitting the board at all half the time. Over the next couple of years, you got better, not a lot better -- I still won every game we ever played -- but you got closer. But, close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades, as they say. It probably counts in terms of people too -- I like to think our closeness counted for something, even if it couldn't last forever.

“You’re lucky you’re pretty," I said.

“You’re lucky you’re good at darts," you fired back.

“Is that an insult? Because I’m holding a sharp object and I’ve got good aim.” And with that, I threw the final dart, hit the bullseye, and won. “What do I get?”

“For what?”

“Winning.”

“You get to keep your pride.”

I was happy with that, but you turned back to me, stepped closer and whispered, “and this,” before you kissed me.

I don’t know which one of us was more nervous. All I knew was that I liked you a lot more when you were quiet. All I heard from you was a little gasp when I lifted you onto the counter so I could keep kissing you without having to lean down and hurt my back ‘cause I’m an old man. I really thought my brooding bad boy look was gonna get me laid again that night, but you stopped me before I could get your top off.

“Uh-uh,” you said. “You’re gonna have to do more than beat me at darts if you want more than a kiss.”

“Fair enough. What’s your price?”

“I’m not a hooker.”

I didn’t understand why you looked so upset until that day by the water when you told me. I’m sorry I said that, I really am.

“Sorry. What I should’ve said is, ‘Can I take you to dinner on Friday?’”

You gave me a nonchalant ‘sure’, and I assumed you’d keep it hush-hush, but you bragged about getting asked out. Why would you brag about me? That's something I still don't understand.

The next day, I went and asked Tommy for advice because I hadn’t dated in a long time, and he’s more of the romantic type. I thought our dinner date would be news to him, but you’d already told him.

“Yeah, I know. She came in here asking for advice too actually.”

He’s got a bigger mouth than you do. That’s why you two got along so well -- you were like those little old ladies gossiping at the hair salon.

“What’d she say?”

“I’m sworn to secrecy.”

But Tommy always had a certain loyalty to you. He keeps your secrets to this day -- some of ‘em.

“Give me some advice, please.”

“You were married once. You won a woman’s heart. Just do what you did back then.”

“I think you’re forgetting the fact that my marriage ended in divorce.”

“Just be yourself.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“Yeah, it is. How about smiling for once?”

I tried, but I’d almost forgotten how to over the years.

Tommy feigned disgust and said, “I take it back. Keep your usual pissed-off look.”

You taught me how to smile again. I don’t know that you meant to do it, but you did. Tommy says he knows when I’m thinking about you because of the way I smile.

When I came over to pick you up for dinner, you opened the door wearing a bathrobe with your hair in curlers. I guess I was looking at you funny because you made sure to tell me, “Don’t worry, I’m not wearing this out. Go sit in the living room.”

“I’m not worried. You look beautiful already.”

“I do not. I look like my grandmother.”

“I imagine she must’ve been a hot commodity then.”

“She was actually -- or at least, that’s the story she used to tell us. She was Prom Queen and all that jazz.”

You could talk for hours, about anything. I could say one word and you could give me a tangentially related 20 minute long monologue. You were a good storyteller. I don’t think I ever told you this, but I used to think about how you’d be great at making up stories for our kids one day -- if we ever had them. I know I told you I didn’t want to have any, but that’s one of the few lies I told you. I was too scared to imagine that kind of a future with you.

I had you in the present, and that’s what I cared about. I don’t remember what you wore that night because I spent most of our date looking at your face, trying to memorize every dimple, freckle or scar I could see. All the details.

I’m sure your dress fit perfectly, but what I cared about was how your hand felt when I took it in mine as we walked to the restaurant -- it felt right, more so with our fingers intertwined on the way home.

It was one of the longest dinner dates in my not-so-long history of dating as it took you quite a while to finish your meal because you don’t talk with your mouth full (usually). I think our waitress was mad that we were there for so long. They were cleaning up by the time you were done eating.

I don’t remember all the things you said. Even if I did, I don’t have enough paper to write it all down. But I do remember when you asked me, “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Sure.”

“This is my first date.”

I would’ve been less surprised if you’d told me you’d killed someone.

“Mine too,” I said.

“Liar! Tommy said you were married... before all of this.”

“Does Tommy tell you everything about me?”

“No. He wouldn’t tell me when your birthday was. That’s why I asked you.”

“That’s ‘cause he forgot it.”

Really, I wanted to know if he told you about Sarah, or if I’d have to do it myself. Both. As it turned out, he told you before we ever really met. I told you by the river, but that came later.

When I walked you home, we lingered by your door, and when I leaned in to kiss you goodnight, you turned your head, and I should’ve realized how special you were to me ‘cause I felt my heart sink. But, you asked me to come inside. You were always shy about kissing in public, but not on your living room couch.

When we were inside, you let me take off your dress, but only after I agreed to take off my shirt.

“Jesus,” you said when you watched me undress.

“We talked enough about Jesus last time. It’s about you and me now, baby.”

I learned to be a gentleman growing up in Texas, that wining and dining a lady includes putting her first in the bedroom too. But you called the shots -- that night and all of the others we had together. You got down on your knees and gave me the most irresistible face. It was embarrassing how quickly I came. It’s still embarrassing, and you’re not even here to tease me about it anymore. I thought I’d get the chance to prove myself to you that night, but you stopped me. I remembered what you said, ‘this is my first date’, and I assumed you were a virgin.

It was about a week later when I was trying to teach you how to skip rocks in the river that I asked you if you were one.

“It’s not a big deal if you are -- not to me, I mean. I just figured maybe because you said that was your first date.”

“It’s kind of a long story, so take a seat if you want the answer.”

I don’t know what I expected you to say, but I already felt like I’d fucked up by asking. I didn’t want to make this mess I’d gotten myself into worse than it already was, so I sat next to you and waited for you to speak.

“It’s not actually a long story, I guess. Just a sad one.”

It was the first sad story you told me, and you told me more stories than I’d ever been told by anyone else at this point. It was impressive how many happy ones you held onto, especially after everything that you told me that day.

You didn’t look at me while you spoke. You mumbled and picked at the grass beneath you. Like a child.

“I’m not a virgin, but I wasn’t lying when I said that was my first date. There’s just some stuff that you don’t know about me... ‘cause I didn’t want you to know these things about me. But it’s not like I was ever gonna get away with not telling you. It’s better that it happens now anyway.”

You started to cry, so I put my hand on your shoulder, but you shrugged it off. I was so used to the one doing the pushing away that being pushed away was jarring.

“Before I came to Jackson, I used to do things for money. Those sorts of things. It’s not like I wanted to, ‘cause I’m not like that, you know.”

You explained how you’d lost both your parents by the time you were 16 and didn’t have any siblings, so you ended up with whatever friends you could find. Some of the few good people that were left.

“There was a group of men who killed my friends just to loot their pockets, but they realized that it’d be more profitable to keep me alive.”

“So they forced you to...”

“Have sex for supplies, yeah. One of them was my first time, I guess. They did that stuff for a while, but once I’d been with a decent amount of men, they decided I was too ‘used up’ or something to be worth having sex with. I can’t decide if that made me feel better or worse. On the one hand, I didn’t have to have sex with them anymore, but I was also too gross to be wanted.”

“’Used up’ is bullshit. Back when the world was a little more civilized, those bastards could’ve gone to jail.”

“They’re dead.”

“Did you kill ‘em?”

“No, but I thought about it all the time. I remember thinking about strangling a man once. He was alone, so no one would’ve seen me do it, and the guys could’ve taken all of his shit too. They probably would’ve been happy if I had. I think that’s why I didn’t.”

“If you didn’t kill them, then how did they die?”

It probably wasn’t appropriate for me to pry, but the sadistic part of me needed to know that they got what was coming for them. I needed to know there was some justice left in this world.

“They wanted food from some guy who’d gone hunting and they tried to sell me to him, but he said ‘no’. He looked so offended that I thought I was pissed off ‘cause they’d given him a bad deal... but he shot the one standing in front of him. Then, he yelled at me to turn around and I was sure I was gonna die, but I heard him walk into the other room, another shot, and when the third walked in from outside, another shot. He walked over to me, and I started crying and begging him not to kill me. He told me he wasn’t going to, but he made me close my eyes while he led me out of the house.”

“’Cause he didn’t want you to see the bodies.”

“Yeah... and I still thought he was going to kill me, even when he took me with him on his horse, and said he was taking me back to some place called ‘Jackson’.”

I don’t know if I would say you got a happy ending, at least, not the one you deserved, but I saw a hint of a smile when you mentioned Jackson. And you didn’t have to tell me who the man was -- I know him well.

“Tommy,” I said, confident in my guess.

“Yeah.”

After I dropped you off at home, I went by his place and thanked him. And then I went home and cried. For the first time in a decade.

“You know it doesn’t change how I feel about you, right?”

“How do you feel about me?”

“I like you… most of the time.”

What I meant was, I love you. I just didn’t know it yet.

“I guess I owe you a story too, then.”

“You don’t owe me anything... but you can tell me whatever you want.”

I think part of me wanted to tell you, or at least, part of me wanted you to know. “I had a daughter.”

“I know.”

I should’ve known, considering how close you and Tommy were.

“Tommy told you, didn’t he?”

“To be fair to him, he told me he had a niece.”

“Yeah, he did. She’d be a little older than you. It’s crazy to think that she’d be in her 30s when the last time I saw her she was 13.”

“I know saying ‘I’m sorry’ doesn’t really do anything, but I’m still sorry”

“In a way, I’m glad she doesn’t have to see all these things. All the infected. She died before we ever had to go to a QZ.”

When you told me about the first QZ you lived in as a kid, it confirmed that for me. It pained me to hear about you watching your dad get bitten and leaving him behind, saying goodbye without knowing he was dying -- in one way or another.

You told me later about how the only person you’d ever killed was your own mother, how she used to sell herself like you did, how you missed the first shot and you saw how scared she was to die. I think you had it worse than I did.

“I think she was mostly scared because she knew I couldn’t do shit with a gun, and that I’d end up surviving the way that she did... and she was right.”

“Neither of you deserved it, and I bet she’d be proud of you now.”

“Why?”

“’Cause I’m proud of you.”

You cried, but you finally let me hold you. You cried so long that I thought you’d never stop.

Do you remember your last day? I told you I wanted to be with you until the end, but you reminded me about your mother. You told me that even if a shot to the head had to be the way you went out, I wasn’t going to be there to give it to you. We had two choices: either wait until that day came or let you go before then. I said I wanted to go with you. I wanted to ask Tommy to give me the same cocktail he was gonna cook up for you. You said no. It was your last wish that I stayed.

“I don’t wanna live without you.”

“I don’t wanna die, but I don’t get to choose. If I could live longer, I would. But just because I’m dying doesn’t mean you get to leave everyone else behind.”

Yeah, you brought Ellie into it. I wanted to tell you not to bring her up. I’m glad you did because as much as it hurt to think about her watching me die the way that I watched you die, it made me stay. I’m glad I stayed. Things are okay, but our last day is still my favorite day.

We got up early and watched the sunrise, and I told you I loved you for the first time.

“I know,” you said with a smile on your face.

“How?”

You just lifted your coffee cup. When you moved in -- something I didn’t realize was happening ‘till it had already happened -- I started making coffee every morning before you woke up, and I started buying that French Vanilla bullshit creamer. I hated it. It was so sweet it made me nauseous. I could’ve gone and bought my own, but I’m still stubborn, I’m still a cheapskate, I’m still me -- even without you (which is something I thought I’d never be able to say). But that wasn’t why I started taking my coffee the same way you took yours.

It was one day when you’d already left for work but my shift didn’t start until later. I hadn’t slept at all the night before -- and not for any good reason, not for more time with you -- so I was tired when I woke up. I made myself some coffee, but I wasn’t even thinking straight, so I hadn’t noticed that I had put that creamer in my mug until I tasted it. But I wasn’t disgusted. I thought maybe you’d left yours behind and I’d absent-mindedly picked the wrong one up off the counter -- I very well could’ve gotten caught up in putting the toaster on the right settings (that’s something we could never agree on) -- but when I looked down, it was my mug. Yours was dirty in the sink. You were gone for the day. I was stupid to think otherwise. I was fantasizing. That was new.

So, just as I am right now, I take my morning coffee like you took yours. It tastes like you, like you kissing me.

I waited anxiously for you to say you loved me too.

“Are you not gonna say it back? Do you not-- do you feel the same?”

“What do you think?”

“I hope so.”

You gestured for me to come closer so you could whisper in my ear and I thought maybe you’d give me a wet willy. But you said, “Joel Miller, I have loved you for a long time.”

I didn’t say anything. I don’t think I’ve ever been very good with words -- talking was your thing. I grabbed your hand and squeezed. We went out onto the porch and sat in silence. I wonder what you were thinking about.

“Will you sing me something?”

You know I don’t take requests, and you know I don’t like an audience, no matter how small that audience is.

No one would refuse the wish of a dying woman, but I couldn’t refuse you even if I knew you’d be there tomorrow and every day after. I only protest because you look cute when you beg. Not in that way -- you look hot when you beg like that.

“What song do you want?”

“Surprise me.”

I sang Peaceful Easy Feeling because, as much as a part of me felt a sense of urgency, knowing our time was running out, most of me was just thinking about you, and I love you. Simple as that.

You gave me a standing ovation just to see me blush.

We all planned something special for your last dinner. I know you like simple things, so I tried to make it as simple as I could while still making it special for you. Maybe it was selfish to make it a night to remember when I’m the one who gets to remember it.

Tommy and Maria were chef and sous-chef (you can guess who was who in that scenario), and Ellie was the waitress.

“What are your specials tonight?” you asked.

“We have either the steak and baked potato or the steak without the baked potato.”

“In that case, I’d like it with the baked potato.”

We probably lit a hundred candles to fill the room with enough light to see each other -- we had time while you were getting ready, since you’re a bit of a slowpoke. We picked flowers from the garden and put them in an empty wine bottle because we couldn’t find a vase, and conjured up a decent tablecloth. We had ice cream sundaes for dessert -- or at least, you did. You know what I had for dessert.

“How about you, sir, would you like anything for dessert?” Ellie asked.

“No, I think I’ll be having dessert when we get home.” I tried to subtly wink at you.

“Ew! That’s disgusting. I don’t wanna hear about your sex life.”

“You’re the one assuming I was talking about sex. How do you know I don’t have a tub of ice cream waiting for me in the freezer at home?”

There was ice cream in the freezer, but the sweetest thing I’d ever tasted was between your legs. The moment we got home I picked you up bridal style and carried you up to our bedroom.

“Baby, I know how long you spent getting ready, and I’m sorry to do this to you, but this needs to come off,” I said before I yanked down the zipper of your dress. You laughed as I ripped off your clothes.

You gently undid my tie and when I watched you fumble with the buttons on my shirt, I said, “Just rip it, baby.”

“I don’t wanna ruin your clothes.”

“I don’t want you to worry about me or my clothes tonight. I want you to have me however you want me.”

“You’ll do whatever I want?”

“Within reason.”

“How do you feel about roleplay?”

“I suppose it depends -- what are the roles?”

“Husband and wife.”

“As long as I can be the husband.”

And then you kissed me -- with your typical tenderness but a new level of dedication. Slow and passionate, showing me what our lives could’ve been like.

“I’m an impatient husband, and I want my beautiful wife to lie down because I think I’m gonna lose my mind if I don’t get to taste her.”

My mouth is useless when it comes to talking, but we both know I have other uses for it. I tried to go slowly, but I couldn't help myself. I swear your pussy was so perfect it made me reconsider my views on God. Though, I don’t think I am a man deserving of an angel. I think I just got lucky.

That night I couldn’t care less about how loud you were. “Joel- fuck- you’re gonna have to slow down, or, or, put your hand over my mouth ‘cause - oh!”

“’Cause you don’t want anyone to hear? What’s the problem with them hearing, darlin’? Married couples make love all the time, it’s what we’re supposed to do.”

Without a condom, too. We weren’t worried about you getting pregnant, so we went out with the best bang of ‘em all. I think the last time I’d done it like that was when Sarah was conceived, and based on how easy that was, I was always cautious.

Husband and wife roleplay wasn’t very different from the sex we typically had. I guess we were really only a piece of paper and wedding bands away from being those ‘characters’.

Earlier that day, I was worried I wouldn’t sleep that night. I didn’t want to sleep. I wanted to savor every moment with you but when you curled up in my arms I fell asleep before I could even consider staying awake.

Waking up next to you was my last clear image, even our goodbye kiss was a little blurry ‘cause I was already a little teary-eyed.

But before that, over breakfast, you mentioned something that I’ve thought about every day since.

“You know how sometimes people see a bird or something and they’re like ‘oh, that’s my dead relative’?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll come back as a butterfly. One of the blue ones. You don’t see those too often. I don’t want to be something too common, like a bird, then you’ll probably mistake someone else for me.”

I don’t think I had seen a blue butterfly in Jackson until after you’d left us, but there’s one outside my window right now.

In case it’s you, I’ll read this all aloud.

Forever yours,

Joel

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller #tlou fanfiction #joel miller angst

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apomaro-mellow · 7 months

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Every Baby Needs a Daddy 12

Part 11

@spectrum-spectre before you say anything, there's no smut in this one so go to sleep and read it at a more reasonable hour

In Eddie's fantasy world, he took off in a plane with Steve, escorted him back to Indiana, dropped him off at the door of the home he'd be staying at, giving him a very thorough scenting before letting him go.

But Eddie had work to take care of and Steve said he would be fine. And Eddie had gotten the hang of figuring out when Steve meant what he said. It wasn't hard. Whenever he wanted to be spoiled, he put that bratty lilt to his voice. They parted ways, Eddie having rubbed himself all over Steve before they exited the car, then again before getting to the check out counter.

Eddie was avoiding notice by wearing his hair in a braided bun and big sunglasses. He insisted on getting Steve a first class ticket. It was the only way to keep too many people from rubbing against him and thus making his scent fade sooner.

"Don't miss me too much", Eddie teased, looking over the rim of his shades.

Steve wrapped his arms around his neck. "I already do, Daddy", he whispered. He kissed him and then murmured against his lips. "Can't stop thinking about it. In less than ten days..."

Eddie put his hands to Steve's waist. He couldn't wait either. They'd be reuniting for Steve's heat. But they weren't coming back together just for that. While Steve was pretty regular and was 99% it would come when he said it did, Eddie would have Steve on the first jet to Texas on January 1st.

Steve thoroughly enjoyed the luxury of first class and landed back home with less than half the stress of a normal plane flight. Eddie had been a little zealous in spending on him sometimes, and it reflected in how much money he sent to Steve so that he could get a ride at the airport. Steve had specifically told him that Lucas could have picked him up and then he'd be with family for the rest of the time.

Eddie must've heard something different because when Steve checked his venmo, he was several hundred dollars richer. When Lucas picked him up, he decided that money could be well spent doing some last minute shopping.

"You know, I'm actually kind of relieved", Lucas said as they packed the last of the stuff into his trunk.

"Why?", Steve asked.

"I thought when you started being a sugar baby and junk you'd turn into a different person. But you're still Steve."

Steve smiled. "Didn't go through a name change last I checked."

"You know what I mean. You were still cursing out the ref at the game back in DC. And you got Robin a mug with a weird picture, not like a diamond encrusted dog bowl or something."

"She's gonna love the mug more than that. And the ref had his blinders on for the whole first half."

Steve didn't realize how relieved he was to hear that though, that he had retained the real parts of himself even though he felt completely changed by Eddie. Would he start to change in time? How long would it take? His reverie was broken when Lucas pulled into the driveway of his home.

"Okay, so Dustin told my parents you were seeing someone and Mike told them it was someone famous but they don't know it's Eddie Munson."

Steve felt his stomach drop. "Do they know that I'm?"

Lucas shook his head. "You get to tell them that."

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me", Steve groaned.

The last thing he wanted to tell the people who helped him through the final years of high school and the first couple of college was that he was getting dicked down by a celebrity and was falling for him too. The Sinclairs were more like his parents than his actual mom and dad.

They didn't hold back either, bringing it up the moment he entered and they got their hugs.

"Dustin told us you're seeing someone?", Mrs. Sinclair said.

Steve snuck an ear twist as Dustin walked by with a grin, one that the Sinclairs definitely noticed but let him get away with. He had to be honest not just because of how important they were, but because they'd find out everything sooner or later. New traveled fast online and he was honestly surprised they didn't know more already.

"I met him one night at a bar. He covered my dinner when I was a little short", Steve said as his hands were kept busy helping with the food preparation.

"Sounds like a gentleman", Mr. Sinclair said.

Lucas and his friends were sitting in the living room, which Steve was thankful for. He knew they'd want to spill every last bean. He got away with giving them minimal info: Eddie's first name, the fact he was a musician, an alpha, and that they'd been on a few dates.

That night, he cornered Dustin and Mike and made them swear to keep their mouths shut about anything else.

"Lucas got basketball tickets. We should get something to", Mike said.

"How's about you don't get a tanned hide?", Steve offered, eyes hard.

Christmas went as usual, Steve spent the day of and day after in the Sinclair home, then returned to his own apartment where Robin was already waiting to celebrate New Years. He didn't get two feet into the door before she was feeling his stomach.

He rolled his eyes. "I'm not-"

"But you could be. I know you and your cumslut tendencies. So I know you're not making him wrap it up."

"But I'm still taking my birth control", Steve said.

"You just know that if you get knocked up I'll have no choice but to move back in with you and help you raise this pup", Robin said.

"There is no pup. And I wouldn't make you do that."

"I would though. For you", she promised.

"I know Robs. That's why I'm not gonna let it happen. If I wanna have his baby, you'll get a six month notice before we conceive."

"Thank you for that."

They spent December 31st ordering take out from three different places and binging Empire. When it got to the time for real festivities to begin, they turned the tv to where Eddie said he was going to be performing.

"So that's your beau. He's not bad", Robin complimented. "How's the rest of the band?"

"They're great. I think you and Jeff would really get along. He's actually really into brass instruments too. And Gareth knows a bunch of nerd languages."

"You mean like Klingon and Elvish?"

"And apparently he's learning Atlantean."

Midnight came and Steve kissed her forehead and Robin kissed his cheek.

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

The next day, he was packed and ready to hop on his flight. Robin dropped him off and hugged him tight enough to hold him over until the next time they met. His ticket was first class again and when he landed in Austin, he was already feeling a tingling under his skin. He missed his alpha. Need his scent, his touch, the rumble of his voice.

Because of this, while he loved the other CC boys, he was a little disappointed to see them awaiting his arrival and not Eddie.

"The Ed-man had to finish something in the studio last minute", Gareth explained as they led Steve to the car.

"Thanks for picking me up, guys", Steve certainly preferred them over a stranger from Uber.

Grant drove the way back, taking them to a mansion that had Steve's jaw dropping. He was no stranger to big houses, but he was used to them being simply for status. They'd been grand but sterile, devoid of any personality. The moment Steve stepped in, he could see that wasn't true for this place. He could pick out each of the resident's scents, could see each of their quirks as he was given a tour of the place.

They saved Eddie's room for last and he found out when Eddie barreled down the hallway to meet them at his door.

"They're really good pack", Steve said as Jeff, Grant, and Gareth left the two of them alone.

"I knew I could trust them with you." Then Eddie kissed him about six times. "For all the missed mistletoe." Then again. "For New Year's."

Steve laughed against his lips. "You gonna show me the bedroom anytime soon? I'd love to lie down, Daddy."

Eddie bit his lip, looking nervous all of a sudden as he slowly opened the door. Steve wanted to take in everything. After all, a bedroom could tell you a lot about a person. But his attention was immediately grabbed by the bed situation and what was sitting on the bench in front of it. There was a thin quilt turning it into a canopy bed, much like the den Eddie had made in their hotel room back in New York.

Steve recognized the pattern from what he'd heard before. Jeff's handiwork. And by the foot of the bed was a small bench where a collection of clothes sat. Steve went right to them and took a whiff of the first shirt. It was so undeniably Eddie, he would have thought his neck was pressed to his nose were he not still by the door.

Then he picked up a tank top and caught notes of lemon and ginger. "Are these...?"

"I tried to scent a lot of stuff before you got here, the boys helped out too. I hope that was okay?" His hands were stuck in his pockets and his back was tensed like he might run.

"It's more than okay", Steve reassured him.

"And the den? You like it? I can always change it if you don't. We've got tons of linens here, all that can be scented in a moment's notice and-"

"Eddie", Steve put a hand to his arm. "It's great. Now...", he held up one of the garments. "Help me nest?"

Eddie swallowed and nodded. He followed Steve's lead as they arranged everything on the bed for maximum comfort. Once Steve was satisfied, he sank down into it, smirking when he saw the way Eddie gingerly lied down next to him.

"Your first time doing a heat?", Steve asked.

"I've been around omegas in heat before. Just not as the uh, let's say star alpha", Eddie admitted.

Steve turned so his back was against Eddie's chest and pulled his arm over him. It took Eddie a moment, but he got comfortable and melted against his body. The exhaustion from the flight and being up for hours finally got to him and Steve closed his eyes.

When he opened them hours later, his body was warm and he felt a wetness between his legs.

Part 13

Tag Team CLOSED

@awkotaco24 @lingeringmirth @littlewildflowerkitten @estrellami-1 @tartarusknight @velocitytimes2 @mrsjellymunson @trashcanniballecter @paintsplatteredandimperfect @a-little-unsteddie @sllooney @starman-jpg @oxidantdreamboat @xxbottlecapx @newtstabber @tiny-enthusiast @desidrarry-wolfstarshipper @y4r3luv @hello-fellow-nerds @anonymousbandgirl @alyelf @potato-of-the-lord @beckkthewreck @croatoan-like-its-hot @pluto-pepsi @abstractnaturaldisaster @ellietheasexylibrarian @eyesofshinigami @dragonmama76 @greatwerewolfbeliever @chaosgremlinmunson @blackpanzy @millseyes-world @batxsignalsx @lilpomelito @goosesister @libraryofgage @aresthelostboy @royjaimie4eva @silenzioperso @she-collects-smut @lost-wondering-souls @eddielives1986 @marklee-blackmore

#apo writes #stranger things #steddie #omegaverse #a/b/o #i literally checked the clock b4 posting #bc i know now i have the uncanny ability to post smut #and therefore keep specs up at all hours of the night #but this time there's no smut so haha!#there will be a healthy dose of debauchery in the next one tho

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phoneguyfnafmonth · 2 months

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Announcing... Phone Guy Month!

Hello? Hello, hello? Whelp. Looks like I'm declaring it; August is uhhhh…. Phone guy month.

You know, how Fazbear Entertainment has a policy where they'll wait 90 days or until the place has been cleaned before they report an employee as missing? 90 days is 3 months. August is 3 months before November, which is when FNAF 1 takes place. So what better month to dedicate to our favourite mentor than the month that he likely went missing. Dark, I know.

I was inspired by @halogenrobotics Vanweek and @puhpandas ggyweek, as well as my own midnight brain deciding that I'd bully my own Phone Guy during August for the exact reason above.

It's going to run from August 1st to August 31st, but I'll be honest, you can do this whenever the hell you want, don't let a silly timeframe panic you.

There are 31 different prompts, but you don't have to do all of them and you definitely don't have to do it on any specific day. The numbers are just an ID to separate one prompt from the next. Just pick and choose the prompts you like!

It's Phone Guy month but any of FNAF's human mentors are accepted, so Phone Guy, Phone Dude, and Tape Girl (Kim too, but she's generally considered one of the Phone Guys).

Art and fics are accepted. Here is the AO3 Collection.

Tag what you make with "PhoneGuyMonth2024" so that I can see it!

Prompt text: 1 - First night 2 - Hello? Hello, hello? 3 - Mentorship 4 - Night 4 5 - Night 5 6 - Day off 7 - Lockdown 8 - Foxy 9 - The back room 10 - Murder?! 11 - The bite of 87 12 - UCN 13 - MCI 14 - Co-workers 15 - Ghosts 16 - Training tapes 17 - Springlocks 18 - Faulty wiring 19 - Scavenger 20 - Family/Friends 21 - Truth/Lies 22 - That office 23 - Injury 24 - Mascot costume 25 - Play Dead 26 - Bad advice 27 - Possessed 28 - Haunted 29 - Fears 30 - "You know too much." 31 - Missing persons report

#fnaf #five nights at freddy's #five nights at freddys #phone guy #fnaf phone guy #phone guy fnaf #phone dude #fnaf phone dude #phone dude fnaf #fnaf tape girl #tape girl fnaf #PhoneGuyMonth2024

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miloformula123fan · 6 months

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okay like 2 months ago, I put out this moodboard, and @evans-dejong replied to it, and im gonna be honest that kind of inspired this whole fic

carlos sainz x male!royal!reader

Please keep requesting - y'all have awesome ideas we agree on a lot of stuff :) - my guidelines are here, and if you want some prompts, they are here.

also feel free to come in and start chatting to me in my asks, would love to get to know y'all better

and if you want to be added to my taglist lmk :)

carlos sainz x royal!reader

2022 Spanish Grand Prix

“AND George Russell has locked up at the final chicane and Carlos Sainz sails on through BRINGING HIM ONTO THE PODIUM OF HIS HOME RACE ON THE LAST LAP OF THE SPANISH GRAND PRIX. AND WHAT A RACE THAT WAS. Max Verstappen crossed the finish line first, followed by his teammate Sergio Perez, and rounding out the podium we have Carlos Sainz for ferrari.”

It had been a hard race, Carlos spinning in the first 8 laps. But he’d done a very good recovery drive, getting up to the podium.

Y/N couldn’t help but clap his hands as he saw a ferrari and a spanish driver on the podium from the back of the Ferrari garage. He saw himself on the screens, and flashed a winning smile. His mum looked at him with exasperated fondness as he hopped around waiting for the drivers to get on the podium, so she could hand the trophies over. He’d been looking forward to it all weekend, the previous highlight being handing off the pole position award to the other ferrari driver.

“And now to present the trophies to the drivers on the podium, we have Crown Prince Y/N, representing the Spanish Royal Family.”

Y/N could almost feel his hands shaking as he picked up the 3rd place trophy and prepared to hand it over. He ran himself through what he was supposed to do

‘Pick up the trophy, display it to the cameras, don’t drop it, first to the person closest, they’re 3rd place, hopefully you’ve picked up the correct trophy Y/N, then as you’re handing it over, shake their hand, congratulate the spaniard, pose for a photo handing over the trophy, and then walk back. Repeat for 2nd place, they’re the one furthest away, not a Spaniard, repeat for team, it’s the mechanic who looks hella awkward on the really small podium, and finally do it for 1st. Then get out of the way before they start spraying champagne.’

And it almost entirely went to plan. He had nearly kissed the Spanish driver on the podium, because damn he was hot. But otherwise it had gone to plan.

Well, until, while trying to get out of the way and completing his task, he had gotten sprayed on the back of his new shirt. Damn.

He heard the cheers and yelling stop as everyone realised that he had been hit. Y/N snickered in his head at the thought that people were scared of him, worried that because he’d been hit by some champagne, that everyone would be executed. Instead he laughed it off, grabbed Carlos’ bottle and took a chug before wandering off the podium, laughing at the ruined shirt. His mother chastised him and fussed over him as he walked away laughing.

The Spanish ferrari driver was hot, sue him.

---

2022 Silverstone

“AND IN HIS 150TH RACE, CARLOS SAINZ WINS THE BRITISH GRAND PRIX. HIS FIRST VICTORY IN F1”

Y/N could hear the cheers, the announcement was a little blurred as he hugged Carlos O, Carlos’ cousin and manager, after waving the spanish flag through a gap in the fence, yelling and cheering over the noise of the engines. There wasn’t a lot of celebration in the garage, as Charles, who was contending for the championship, had had a horrible race, but who cared? Carlos had won, at least Red Bull hadn’t won, they were still contending for the championship.

“And what a day for Ferrari, but they won with the wrong car!” Ted shouted into his microphone as the celebrations kicked on.

“I’m sorry?”

“Uhh, sorry to everyone at home we now have Crown Prince Y/N from the Spanish Royal Family. Now Your Royal Highness, what did you say?”

“Well first, my title is Prince of Asturias. Not this ‘Your Royal Highness’ bullshit that you’re trying to lower my status to…”

“Sorry, language for the kids at home.”

“Oh, says you, Ted Kravitz. Hi Kids, my name is Crown Prince Y/N, or the Prince of Asturias, and I’m going to give you a… what’s the word…unbiased view of the grand prix today. Charles and Max were struggling today. Then there was a safety car, and Carlos was given a better strategy. Now, keep in mind kids, this was because Charles was not having a great day. Then Carlos was once again screwed over by Ferrari strategists, however for once in his life he stood up for himself, and made himself a good strategy and won himself the race. His first race win, after 150 race starts. There is no wrong driver to win with for Ferrari, and Carlos deserved that win as much as Charles did. Thanks Tommy.”

“It’s Ted…”

Y/N waited in Carlos’ driver room for him to arrive back from the media. Carlos meanwhile had been told by his cousin that Y/N was waiting for him, and tried to pass off his impatience as excitement over the win. He had barely seen Y/N since the win, being celebrated with his team, but he had spotted him on Carlos O and Carlos Sr. shoulders, cheering with the other Ferrari engineers, and butchering his own national anthem, which was always fun to watch. But he hadn’t seen him properly, been able to hold him and scream and kiss him.

And he couldn’t wait for that.

Finally, after what felt like forever, he reached the door of his driver room. He could sense Y/N behind that door, actually he could hear him, chatting to what he assumed were his younger sisters and parents.

He slowly opened the door, pushing it with his hips as his hands held his water bottle and his trophy.

He watched for a second, not wanting to disturb Y/N, especially if he was saying something royal that he wasn’t supposed to hear.

Y/N was lying on his stomach on the massage bed, his feet hanging off the end as he had propped his phone up against the wall. His feet were kicked up in the air, swinging backwards and forwards, as his head, which he was holding up by his hands, was bopping side to side as he talked to his family.

“Yeah, so just waiting for him to finish his post race debriefs and media and then he’ll be here soon, and I’ll hang up then, I don't want to scare Leonor again. By the way, Leo, how’s Gavi going? Feel like the last I heard was from some media article about how he wanted to focus on football and didn’t want a girlfriend distracting him, but I'm sure you’ve managed to persuade him otherwise…”

While Y/N was teasing his younger sister, he was cut off by his (quite unmanly) screams as Carlos grabbed him from behind and hugged him to his chest, swinging him back and forth.

Once he had reassured both his family and the bodyguards who had burst into the room with their guns drawn that he was fine and Carlos had just scared him, he hung up the facetime call and snuggled in with Carlos on the small massage table, and admired the trophy.

“It’s pretty…” his hand hovered over all the details “like you mi amor.”

“...huh, most people would describe me as handsome rather than pretty, mi vida”

“Not me, you’re my pretty boy.”

---

Silverstone 2023

“Hello! You must be Lando!” Y/N walked towards the Mclaren boy and gave him a hug.

“You're the crown prince of Spain.”

“Wow, he’s observant eh Chilli?”

“Mate, i mean this in the nicest way possible, how the fuck did you manage to bag the crown prince of spain?”

“I think the real question you should be asking is how I managed to bag the most attractive f1 driver?”

“Have you seen Fernando?”

“Good point. The most attractive Spanish f1… no no, that doesn’t work. Uhhhh, the second most attractive F1 driver.”

“what?”

"nothing darling, good luck for your race Lando and nice to meet you!"

---

Singapore 2023

“AND RUSSELL IS IN THE WALL. GEORGE RUSSELL IS IN THE WALL AND CARLOS SAINZ IS GOING TO TAKE VICTORY FOR THE SECOND TIME IN AMAZING CIRCUMSTANCES. SO FAR THE ONLY NON RED BULL DRIVER TO WIN A RACE THIS YEAR”

“OH MY FUCKING GOD!” Y/N couldn’t help screaming through the ferrari garage as the entire ferrari garage erupted as Carlos crossed the line first. His bodyguards were clearly trying to reach him, but he didn’t care as he gave a massive hug to every mechanic and an even bigger one to Fred as he kept screaming his head off.

“OH MY FUCKING GOD YES! VAMOS YES!”

He was gonna lose it. Carlos had won a race. And this one for so many more reasons felt better than the Silverstone win. No disputes about team orders or who was the better driver.

Carlos had done it all on merit.

Once again he was hoisted up on the Carlos’ shoulders to horribly butcher his own national anthem. He could see his bodyguards trying to push through the throng of mechanics, but the mechanics were pushing back equally as hard. Well if his bodyguards couldn’t get through a crowd of overexcited mechanics, then maybe that was a sign he needed new bodyguards. First one’s who could get through a crowd when necessary, but also ones who understood that he could do what he wanted. He saw the cameras, flicking between the 2 of them singing to each other horribly, but he didn’t care. So what if these photos and videos were all over the tabloids tomorrow.

Tonight was their night.

And nothing could change that.

nothing.

---

Spain 2024

Y/N walked onto the podium again, remembering how 2 years ago he had walked onto this stage and met the love of his life at that time.

Except this time, he was standing with the spanish flag around his shoulders, on the P1 spot, instead of the P3 spot as he was 2 years ago. His smile was bigger, and the cheers were louder, especially with Fernando Alonso in P2.

As Y/N handed off the P3 trophy to a grumpy Max Verstappen, a P2 trophy to an elated Fernando Alonso, who gave him a massive hug and shake as they jumped up and down. Very different from 2 years ago.

And after giving a constructors trophy to a confused team member, finally it was Carlos’ turn. Y/N smiled as he handed over the trophy, adoring the goofy grin on his face. He also hugged him, and Y/N only cringed slightly at the sweat that was now on his suit.

It’s okay. He was never expected to wear this suit again.

He barely got out of the spray zone before the champagne spraying had begun. At least as he thought.

He let out a very unroyal scream as he felt the cold champagne trickle down his back, turning around to the silence with Fernando having a cheeky grin on his face (this seems hella clunky). The rest of the paddock and the podium was frozen, as if worried that he was going to order Fernando’s execution. Instead, he held his hand out, as his mother passed him a bottle of champagne that he proceeded to spray straight in Fernando’s face.

And then as the champagne started to drain, Carlos leaned over and kissed Y/N square on the lips. First official show of affection, and as Carlos pulled away and flashed the cheeky grin at Y/N, he thought about how the royal PR people would be scrambling to confirm that yes, Carlos was courting the crown prince of Spain.

But he didn’t care

So he leaned in and kissed him again.

Y/N walked onto the podium again, remembering how 2 years ago he had walked onto this stage and met the love of his life at that time.

As Y/N handed off the P3 trophy to a grumpy Max Verstappen, a P2 trophy to an elated Fernando Alonso, who gave him a massive hug and shake as they jumped up and down. Very different from 2 years ago.

It’s okay. He was never expected to wear this suit again.

He barely got out of the spray zone before the champagne spraying had begun. At least as he thought.

But he didn’t care

So he leaned in and kissed him again.

---

taglist: @leosxrealm, @tallrock35, @wolf-knights, @janeholt3, @badblondebisexualboy, @ghostking4m

#f1 x reader #miloformula123fan #f1 fanfic #f1 x male reader #f1 fic #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x male reader #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x y/n

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onsraas · 8 months

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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐨𝐢𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

┊luke castellan x daughter of aphrodite!reader — angst-fluff

summary: although the daughter of aphrodite tries, the feeling of love won't come other than from the person who not only seems oblivious, but also lacks the reciprocation of the love she so wildly desires. but, is that right?

warnings: use of y/n, 1st person, like one cuss word, (some poor writing tbh) — not proofread !!

wc: 1.3k

a/n: hello, I'm back with my take on why an "i love you, too." is more important than a bare "i love you." — also, can you notice the big fat crush I have rn through this? lmao.

ps. reblogs helps a whole lot.

photo credits | masterlist | navigation | request

My chest feels empty with the lack of a heart. I can feel it beating in my chest yet somehow the sense of emptiness remains there as I kiss this boy.

I can't remember his name, I don't even remeber if he said it or not, to be honest. But when his hands reach for my waist I try to help myself from gagging. I don't like the feeling of his hands on me.

Not as much as I like Luke's.

He's never touched me romantically, and yet his hand on my thigh trying to calm me down, his shaking hand in mine looking for comfort, his arms wrapped around me, lifting be from the ground after I told him big news, it all comes back to me before I feel a hand tug me backwards, tearing me away from the stranger I'd been kissing, who I now realise is Mark, a son of Ares.

"What is going on in here?" The voice behind me makes me shiver with recognition.

"What does it look like, dude? Leave." Mark says. He attempts to reach for my arm but I snatch it away.

Before either of them can say anything else, I turn to look at the person behind me: Luke. His face is contorted in an angry frown, glaring at Mark as if he'd just killed a kitten.

"What is it, Luke?" I say, my voice sounds annoyed, but although I'm looking at Luke, is not him whom I'm annoyed at. It's me. The fact that I had been imagining Luke kissing me while kissing someone else makes me think I'm stupid enough to not realize the truth: it's never gonna happen.

Luke's gaze softens when he looks at me, but still keeping the look of superiority. "You shouldn't be here. It's dark and you're very deep into the woods." He pauses and looks at me, but whatever he's looking for he doesn't find it. "We should get back."

"Okay," I agree. I think both of them were expecting me to put more of a fight because they look at me in confusion...or anger on Mark's side could be.

I pay Mark's insults no mind as I follow the path that will lead us back to the camp, Luke beside me.

Eventually we stop hearing Mark altogether and Luke finally says something. "Not a good one, huh?"

I shrug. My heart is overwhelmed with the sense of dread and the need to tear it out of my chest becomes more powerful with each step.

Why do I feel like this is my mother is the goddess of love? Why do I feel like this when everyone fights to get the bare minimum from me: a child of Aphrodite?

Could it be because the only person whom I really want looks at me with a shine that lacks of love?

Because every night I go to sleep I think about the stars and how they are my only companion when I see him look at someone else with the look I want all for myself.

I think about the stars whispering in my ear how I'm still dumb enough to not give up on the idea. What they don't realize, though, is that he's the one not letting me go.

He doesn't know my heart is his but still he won't drop it for it to break completely.

"Hey," Luke's hand on my shoulder stops me on my track, making me flinch a little. "What is going on?" His voice makes me want to break down and cry from how soft it is.

He is looking me right in the eye, and I can't help but notice that he's already invading my personal space with his closeness. "Nothing is going on, okay? Can we just...walk in silence?"

"No, we can't." I don't think he's ever talked to me this serious. "Not until you stop pushing me away."

I'm dumbfounded. "Wait, what?" My voice sounds weird to my own ears. "What are you talking about? I'm not pushing you away, Luke."

"Yes, you are, y/n, and you've been for the last year." His eyes reflect nothing but hurt, probably remembering how this last year has gone for both of us. "You think I don't realise? You think I don't realise how you do anything to stay away from me? And my only question is: why?"

He is closer to me than he's ever been and I can only focus on his intense blue eyes staring back at me. "That is none of your bussiness." I somehow get it out, still my voice sound breathier than normal.

I could get it out now, try to make the damage the least painful as possible, but my selfish heart tells me I can't make it better if a lose him.

"I think it is. Now, either you say it, or I'm going to say it myself." Still, I don't say a word. He leans impossibly closer, and my breath hitches when I feel his hand slightly touching mine, as if waiting for and invitation.

Fuck it. "You think you know, everything about me, Luke, well you don't. The answer to your question is the only thing you should have noticed and it's yet the only thing you see to have no clue about. The only reason I've been avoiding you, and doing anything to stay away from you is because..." I pause, trying to gather my thoughts. "It is because I love you, Luke. I have loved you from the very moment I met you all those years ago."

Luke looks at me as if a just grew a third head. Yet, somehow, I can for the first time feel my heart.

"Why were you kissing mark then?" He asks.

I scoff. "None of them matter, I've only ever done it because I wanted to stay away from you, Luke."

"Away from me? Why would you wanna make that?"

Is he serious? "You're just making fun of me at this point." I attempt to leave, but I fail when Luke grabs my arm, keeping me from leaving.

"I would never make fun of you." His voice is soft as silk. "I truly want to know."

I sigh. "I know you don't feel the same, Luke. That's okay. Just...please, don't become a stranger."

"I would never." He takes my hand in his, bringing us closer, or noses touching. I could lean a little and our lips would touch, but I won't unless he asks me to. "Can I kiss you now?"

When people said they felt butterflies I'd never undestood. Sure, I'd felt nervous, yet the feeling of butterflies fluttering in my stomach right now was so strong I wanted to vomit. I decide to nod instead.

His lips are soft in mine. One of my hands is occupied in his, while the other moves to wrap around his neck.

The kiss is sweet at first, two people showing affection through the art of kissing. But when Luke's tongue gets access inside my mouth I feel like we are both making up for all the times we wanted to do it but couldn't, for all the years of waiting, and for the time we need to catch up.

His hand leaves mine only to get bothe his hands in my waist, tugging me closer to him, closing any possible gap there could be between our bodies.

His hands are everywhere in my body and when his hands find the bare skin underneath my shirt I break the kiss, searching for his eyes. "Was that too fast?" He asks with pure panic.

I smile and shake my head before I wrap my arms around him, hiding my face in the crook of his neck, while he does the same.

"I love you, too." He says leaving a soft kiss in my neck.

And there a realise that the emptiness is long gone.

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellas x reader fanfic #fanfic #Luke castellano x Aphrodite!reader #percy jackon and the olympians

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chrimsss · 1 year

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A Tall Manager -

Some teams and how they would be with a tall (betwen 175 to 180cm) beautiful manager.

The teams include: Karasuno, Aoba Johsai/Seijoh, Shiratorizawa and Fukurodani.

Note: This is another random idea i had and had a beautiful, amazing friend choose the teams for me :)) this was written at 3am and its rushed, I'm sorry.

Might have some grammatical mistakes or mispellings, sorry for those- LONG POST!

Pronouns: You, implied as female.

Karasuno (Height: 177cm) -

You're a 1st year, in Class 5.

Which also means you share a class with the one and only, Yachi Hitoka.

You both first talk was due to a project you two needed to do together and she was utterly scared about your height.

But you quickly surprised her with a friendly nature, almost like an older sister. Yachi grew close to you rather fast.

So it was no surprise when she asked you to come with her to the school gym, after class.

"Hum? Why, are you going to train for something?"

"NO, I TOLD A BEAUTY THAT I WOULD JOIN HER CLUB ACCIDENTALLY AND I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO, PLEASE (Y/N)!"

"A beauty? what..."

Despite that, you decided to follow her anyways.

Arriving at the gym, it was clear both you and Yachi gained the attention of almost all boys in the gym, which was somewhat understandable, since we have this 149cm cute girl and 177cm pretty girl.

Kiyoko was the first to walk towards you both, greeting Yachi before going to you with a friendly welcoming and asking if you were to join as a third manager. Now you understand how Yachi couldn't say no.

Daichi, Suga and Asahi were the next to introduce. They all were really sweet to you, although Suga were jokingly disappointed at you being taller than him while being a 1st year, which made you laugh a bit.

Ennoshita, Kinoshita and Narita were the next ones, all also very kind, but in a more quieter way. Kinoshite also joked a bit, asking what you did to get so tall, since you were taller than him. His only answer was a slap at the back of his head by Ennoshita.

Nishinoya and Tanaka, were... something else. When you first introduced yourself, they were both dead silent, almost as stones statues, that also scared the other 2nd years, before tears appeared in their eyes. They were just happy of having 3 different managers. You could also hear Tanaka commenting something about "School's Beauty" and "Nekoma", but you weren't too sure.

Hinata and Yamaguchi were both stunned by you, a small blush in their faces while you looked at both of them with a bright smile. Hinata started jumping up and down, greeting you and commenting about your height in a non-malicious way, to which you tried to answer truthfully. As for Yamaguchi, he let out a small compliment, shocking himself, but your only response was a compliment about his freckles.

Tsukishima and Kageyama were... Indifferent. Of course, Kageyama was surprised about your height for some time since you were almost his height, but it quickly drew away. Tsukishima knew about you, since you were in a College Prep Class as well, so he somewhat respected you, but he really didn't care about your height or anything.

After that day, you were now officially a Manager for the Crows. And, even though you were almost the same height or taller than most of them, they were still protective of you, just like they were towards the other 2 managers.

But, to be honest, you wouldn't have it any other way.

Aoba Johsai/Seijoh (Height: 179cm) -

You were a 2nd Year, in Class 6.

You sit right beside the sweet Libero for the Volleyball Team, Shinji Watari.

He was pretty surprised about your height, he wasn't short in anyway, being 171cm, but he could feel shorter beside your 179cm self.

You both were "seatmates" since the first day of 2nd year, and just clicked as friends.

After the volleyball team's practice match against Karasuno, Shinji constantly heard his captain commenting something about Karasuno's Manager and Seijoh's Lack of one.

So, one day, while both of you were quietly eating during lunch, he asked you the infamous question;

"(Y/N)-chan, do you have a club yet?"

"Hum? No, my last club was full this time."

"Would you like to join our club as a manager?"

To say you were surprised was an understatement, but you still agreed about it.

After school, you found yourself a bit nervous, you knew their volleyball team was strong and a powerhouse, so a small wave of anxiety filled you but Shinji was quick to calm down your nerves.

Arriving at the Gym, you took quick notice or the spacious place and all the players around, who seemed to be doing their own things.

The coaches already knew why you were there for, so he called out all of his team players, who were quick to notice the pretty girl standing besides their Libero.

The Third Years all had different reactions, and it kinda shocked you: Oikawa was the first one, greeting you with a sweet smile and also a wink, that took you by surprise, but a ball on his head was enough to make him drop the "flirtatious boy" act. Iwaizumi was the next one, the one who gave you a proper welcoming, glaring down at his captain. Matsukawa and Hanamaki, however, instead of introducing themselves first, their first reaction was compare you and the Ace height, while holding a bit of laugh, this making Iwaizumi angry and you a bit surprised.

Yahaba was another one who tried to flirt, but just looking at your sweet smile was enough to make the boy weak and stutter a bit before recovering his posture.

Kyotani completely ignored you, at first, but was forced by a certain Setter (read: Yahaba) to be kind and introduce himself. However, instead of the introduction, his first reaction was to ask how did you get this tall, boy was genuinely curious. Also, you were 0.2cm taller than him, he was insistent to know the "truth".

The First Year also had unique reactions: While Kindaichi was bit red on his face while staring at you, Kunimi were just staring uninterested and kinda tired from all his training, that didn't stop him from being kind to you when you first introduced yourself.

Needless to say, they all accepted you pretty fast as they first manager. Iwaizumi was quick to teach you how to throw a ball at your captain's head. Matsukawa and Hanamaki were also quick to put you in their group chat, where they would post random memes.

Now its a routine for you, Shinji and the other two 2nd years to have lunch together.

Also, the next time Seijoh went against Karasuno, Oikawa was fast to brag about you, as their manager, to his precious kouhai, who was utterly confused about the situation.

Shiratorizawa (Height: 175cm) -

You were a 2nd year, in class 5.

Now this one is a bit different, you and Taichi were close friends before High School, meeting each other in middle school and it kinda just clicked as best friends.

This one, instead of Taichi calling you, you were the one to initiate the conversation. The main problem was the coach, who highly believed you would be a distraction for the boys.

It took some while to convince the coach, to even have the thought of giving you a chance, but seeing how some of them were alreayd distracting themselves with filling bottles and other stuff, instead of training was enough to make him agree.

So, one day, after school you found yourself standing on the doors, staring a bit dreamily around the gym and noticing the team players.

Look, you aren't short in the slightest, but being around this team makes you feel tiny. Their shortest members are around 174cm, for god's sake.

Taichi was the first one to notice you, jogging, mid training, to talk to you, and this quickly caught the attention of his teammates.

"Could this be? Taichi's girlfriend?~"

"Tendou, I don't think we should be meddling with our kouhai's love life."

"Are you telling me you aren't also curious Semi-Semi?"

"..."

Be glad the Coach was busy that time.

Anyway, while the third years talked like you weren't there, Taichi was quick to introduce you to his teammates.

First person you met was Goshiki, he seemed a bit nervous and serious around you, but still did a fast introduction and talking about how he was going to be Shiratorizawa's Next Ace, to which you just smiled brightly and agreed with him. Kai and Yusho, the next ones, were a bit in the back, but you still greeted both of them in a friendly manner, making a small blue appear at their face.

Shirabu, seemed a bit annoyed since you were 0.2cm taller than him, but was quickly subdued since you were really friendly to him. He seemed indifferent, but having someone sweet yet not overwhelming was good for his soul.

Then, you get the 3rd years. Hayato was the first upperclasmen to greet you, making a small joke about you being taller to him, which made you giggle a bit. Reon were also really sweet with you and promised to help you around the gym whenever needed, although you couldn't take his offer.

Semi was a bit more quiet about it, but he was glad to have a manager to help with certain 'trivial' things, since he was one of the main 'workers' there. If you like music, he would be quick to recommend multiple songs for your playlist.

Tendou was the sweetest one, instead of just a normal greeting, he would go directly for a quick hug; If you were uncomfortable with the situation, he would be quick to break from the hug and apologize, giving a proper introduction. If you were to return his hug, you are now officially adopted by him, that's it.

Ushijima was a bit more complicated. While he was staring you down, he introduced himself and welcoming you to the team officially. He seemed a bit blunt, but you were quick to notice that this wasn't in a malicious way. So you took his encouragement and tips to heart whenever doing your managerial work.

In all fairness, this team would act like they didn't need a manager first but with you there, their tactics were more calculated and they stuff was more organized, so they were pretty happy with you there.

Also, when you first met Oikawa, he was exteemely annoyed at the fact that Shiratorizawa had a manager before him. Ushijima was quick to throw his famous infamous catchphrase, annoying the setter even more.

Fukurodani (Height: 180cm) -

You are a first year, but this time, you didn't share class with anyone else on the team.

You trial as Manager was one of an accident.

You were walking around the schoolz trying to evade as many people as possible, you accidentally bumped into one of the volleyball managers, who seemed to be in a hurry, with you both falling to the ground.

Before you could even say anything, she quickly got up and apologize, picking up some papers she scattered around and then running away. What she failed to notice was one last paper laying beside you.

"Volleyball Trial Manager Sheet".

While in class now, you stared at the paper, a bit curious about it. You knew the volleyball team had alreayd 2 managers, so they wouldn't really need another one right? But you also remembered that they were both 3rd years and this was their last year, what if the team doesn't have another manager?

These thought plagued in your mind for the entire day and took one of your parents to convince you to finally join it.

The next day, you decided to join during morning practice, rapidly noticing they were in a rally, so you just stayed at the door, trying not to disturb the team. But a hand on your shoulder made you turn around, noticing the Coach with a small smile.

He then entered the gym, clapling to get his students attention, which was a success but their attention was fast towards you. You introduced yourself kinda nervous about the sittuation but still holding your place.

Yukie and Kaori were the first to go to you. They were really happy to have another manager with them, and kept complimenting your height, which made you a bit bashed.

The first years were a bit in shock about your height. Anahori was a bit intimated but curious, but he also hold onto his comments to himself, scared that it could offend you in any way, to which you quickly denied, saying you didn't mind. Onaga was also surprised, he didn't have to look down too much to talk to you and that was a relief for his neck. He was also happy you didn't mess his name like his classmates.

Komi and Konoha were a bit in shock, their new manager was taller than them in unique levels, but they were really gentle with their greetings even joking a bit about stealing your height to play.

Sarukui was one of the calm ones, he was kinda surprised about looking at you in the eyes without bending his neck, but nonetheless he was happy about having another manager happy. He was also grateful about you not commenting on his mouth unnecessarily, that has happened way too much.

Washio was somewhat indifferent about it. He was surprised a bit but didn't have anything to comment much, since he knew height was something uncontrollable. As being a manager, he was glad to see the team would have someone trustworthy as their manager for two more years when the other 2 graduates.

Now, here comes the complicated part. Bokuto for you was an enigma, he was blunt about his question and commentaries about your height, but you knew there was no ill intent in his words. But after it cooled down, he was fast to ask you about volleyball and what you knew.

When you first found out about his Emo Modd, you were taken aback, since how could someone lively be so quiet?

Akasshi, the sweet boy he is, thanked you a lot almost daily, since your praises were quick to take Bokuto out of his Emo Mode, thus taking a lot of stress out of him. He was also the most helpful one, he would always take the boxes from you hand, yadda, yadda.

Overall, Fukurodani were pretty shocked about your height but these sweet boys were nothing but sweet.

Also, Bokuto bragged about you being a Manager to his cat friend, who at first thought was a lie but was quickly shut off by your tall stature cheering for Bokuto.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #karasuno x reader #seijoh x reader #aoba johsai x reader #shiratorizawa x reader #fukurodani x reader #my writing

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fxtalitygod · 1 year

Text

VII. ~Survival~

Summary: You were determined to survive longer than anyone, even if you were set to marry him.

Genre: Historical AU, angst, mature, suggestive, arranged-marriage

Warnings: Dark themes, theme/depictions of horror, swearing/language, suggestive, mentioned pedophilia, child molestation, attempted child sexual assault, mentions of adult murder, implications of impregnating, implied Stockholm Syndrome, images/depictions of dead bodies, slight misogynistic themes (if you squint).

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: Soooooo... this is the shortest chapter I've ever written, but it wasn't my intention. To be honest, I kept becoming unhappy with the results and kept going back to fix it, but it never felt right. At the end of the day, I decided to touch into an uncovered territory of (Y/n) that I had debated on for a while and enjoyed the results. I promise the next chapter will be longer and will cover more bases! Enjoy Chapter 7 of Survival!!

P.S. I know I said I'd get this chapter out in May, but it's currently June 1st, 12:26pm (for me), so take it or leave it!!! (╥﹏╥)

JJK Mlist•Taglist Rules•

• Pt.I • Pt. II • Pt. III • Pt. IV • Pt. V • Pt. VI • Pt.VII • Pt. VIII

"Y/n, wait up!"

You turned to see your little sister running over to catch up to your quick pace, grabbing her hand as she extended it to you. The two of you were pushing through the crowd in the market, holding on to each other as if it were for dear life. You would rather be damned than lose any of your younger siblings upon your watch.

"We need to hurry! We have to be home before Mother starts dinner," you noted breathlessly, "She cannot even start if we do not get these ingredients to her on time," referring to the basket you were holding close to your form.

Your sister gave an obedient response as she focused on your swift gait. You could only smile at the young girl's compliance— had it been any of your other more youthful siblings, they may have given you replies of retaliation out of their immaturity, but she was a sweet child who clearly looked up to and admired you. Turning your attention back towards the road of the market square, you saw that you were close to the exit that would lead you on the path home, sighing in relief as you slightly sped up your stride; however, before the two of you could exit you felt a hand wrap around your arm, pulling you and your sister into a secluded area.

"Now, what do we have here?" A gruff voice sounded, "Two pretty little buds have stumbled upon my path."

The voice was clearly a male's, and he was undoubtedly intoxicated as his speech was slurred, plus his stride was far from straight as he walked closer towards you. He circled the two of you like a vulture over a carcass, his eyes narrow and intimidating as he looked at your youthful figures, disgustingly licking his lips. The predator eventually moved into the light, revealing his aged appearance. The man was clearly an older one, his rough, oily skin and few missing teeth being a telling sign of his seniority; if he was any younger than you had assumed, he did not age gracefully.

“I-I’m sorry, sir,” you started, unintentionally stuttering as you spoke, “b-but we have to be home before sunset,” you finished explaining, your voice slightly cracking as you spoke due to the fear swelling in your chest. Despite your own terror, you tried to keep your stance straight to give your sister peace of mind, pulling the little girl behind you to act as her human shield.

“No worries,” the stranger chuckled, before reaching around you and grabbing your sister by her forearm before pushing you onto the ground, holding your chest down with his foot, “I’ll make you both into proper women before then,” the man closed his statement, making his advance on your younger sibling first.

You struggled as you tried to push the man’s foot off your torso, but your attempts were futile. The sick individual only grew tired of your punching, moving, and scratching as he decided to kick you to the nearby wall. Your gaze followed his figure as you weakly got up, only to be pushed into the wall once more, feeling cuts and scratches being made upon your flesh. The male took hold of something at the corner of your eye, still keeping your sister in a tight grip as she struggled. In moments, your hands and legs were tied, and a solid heavy stone was placed upon your lap to keep you from getting up anytime soon.

“Y/N!” Your sister screamed with tears in her eyes as the predator began to touch and kiss her pure skin with his contaminated flesh.

Your mind paced watching the scene, bile rising to your throat as you grew repulsed. Before long, the disgusting creature decided to yank at her clothes— that was the moment you snapped.

“Wait, take me instead! I’ll let you do whatever you want to me!” You yelled in haste. The decision was made with little thought, but as long as your sister was safe, you could live with the disgust.

The man paused to think for a moment before a repulsive grin overtook his expression, quickly going to restrain your sibling before removing your bonds. The moment you were free was the moment you were infested by his greedy touches. If the contact of his fingers and lips didn’t make you want to gag, the feeling of his bulge between your thighs made you want to vomit.

You thought that by sacrificing yourself for your sister's safety, you would be able to tolerate his blatant violation, but you could only feel your resolve weaken as his lingering touches began making your skin burn, but not in a good way. Despite your discomfort, you continued to indulge in his horrific actions, deciding to let out your emotions with tears and balled fists. Things weren't any easier as you heard the choked sobs of your younger sibling as she watched the setting, feeling your dignity and pride being washed away. Everything was going as the man wanted– he was getting his fixture of pleasure while two young girls suffered. If his hard-on wasn't a signal of his enjoyment, his chuckles and wretched words were an unmistakable banner.

"You're such a pretty little thing, so obedient for me. Y'know, I think that deserves a reward," the aged man cackled, moving his hands to remove his garments, changing course to strip you as well.

"(Y/N)!!!" your sister screeched, loud enough for her voice to echo in the alley.

Before you could say any words of comfort for the little girl, the man turned around, obviously not pleased with her outburst. The man's nostrils flared as he raised a hand and hit the young girl. The audible smack did not settle with you, and you could feel a temper you had never felt before build up inside you. You do not remember what happened next, but everything went pitch black for a second, and when you opened your eyes...

All you saw was the body of the pedophile lying on the floor, unmoving and breathless.

You stared at the lifeless figure, not knowing what to say as the scarlet liquid began to pool in a puddle beneath his form. Lifting your crown, you looked around to maybe see who the culprit of killing the man was; however, the alley was empty– just you and your sister. Speaking of the sibling in question, you swiftly moved to retrieve the girl only to see that her restraints were already broken and that she was unconscious, yet breathing.

Questions began to fill your mind, but you pushed them aside, focusing on the current circumstances. You wasted no more time as you went to lift the little girl onto your back, picking up the basket of ingredients before making your trek home. Although one problem was resolved, there was still another pressing matter...what would you tell your parents? Unfortunately, you did not have much time to think up an answer to that as you were now at your front door, sliding the object to reveal the worried expressions of your parents.

The couple rambled, asking what had happened, questioning why the two of you were late and battered. The more they interrogated, the louder the ringing in your ears started to develop, effectively drowning out their uneasy voices. You didn't know what to say or what to do. Would it be a good idea to tell them the truth? What if they wouldn't believe you? Would you be punished? How would they even react?

"We were playing in the fields and had an accident, but we're alright now. (S/n) fell asleep on our way back, she really exerted herself."

The lie was sour in your mouth, but you thought it was the better route when you pictured the corpse lying on the dirt floor. How would you explain such a gruesome sight? The answer is you would not because there wasn't an explanation to give– you didn't even know what had happened.

The night went on as usual, your parents buying your story and continuing regular activity. When your sister had risen, she didn't remember a thing, only saying the last thing she recalled was shopping at the market. Your parents didn't think much of it as they gave her a simple reply before having her eat with the family. When you were presented with your plate, you could hardly stomach the sight of the food; however, you knew it would be rude to waste a precious meal, so you ate and shoved whatever bile threatening to scale your esophagus down.

After the meal, you were tasked with helping your mother clean the dishes. It was quiet between you both as you scrubbed the dishware and bowls, not yet feeling comfortable to voice words. Although you opted to stay muted, your mother did not make indications she would do the same.

"Thank you for taking care of your sister," the woman started, giving you a warm smile, "she really looks up to you, and I could not be prouder of that."

Her words broke you then and there as your eyes glossed over, feeling tears cascade down your face. Your mom stopped what she was doing and took hold of your face to have you look at her, "Whatever is the matter, dear?"

"But I didn't take care of her. She got hurt today because of my incompetence. How can I call myself a good sister after that?" You choked out between quiet sobs.

"Accidents happen, my dear," the parent soothed as she pulled you in, petting your hair to calm you, "The best thing you can do is learn from them."

You could only nod into your mother's bosom, not trusting your own voice at the time being. Maybe she was right– you just had to ensure the incident wouldn't repeat itself. You repeated that statement mentally as she held you, so why did you still feel guilty.

"After all, you took care of it, my dear," your mother sounded, "You killed that vile man."

Your eyes shot open, your breathing heavy, and your pulse uneven as you woke from your nightmare. It wasn't the first time that night terror had occurred, but you had to admit it had been a while since it had. Ever since birthing your children, the nightmares had been more consistent.

At first, they were an occasional occurrence, but as the months passed, once or twice a month turned into three to four times a week. Some lasted longer than others, and others were more frightening than some. Either way, your once dreamless nights began to fill with discomforting and restless evenings. Despite the abnormality of some of the dreams, you only deduced it as a result of stress. You kept yourself levelheaded on the outside, but within, you were drowning in your overwhelming thoughts.

Ever since your everlasting pact with Sukuna, things around the temple began to change significantly, at least for you. Perhaps someone with an ordinary eye would not notice these small changes, but you were focused on the finer details. Minimal adjustments such as staffing, specifically the addition of two new guards. It was not a large sum of security, definitely not an army, but for even one guard to join Sukuna's ranks was unusual. Your husband had not much need for any more manpower as he had plenty of that as it already was; however, the stranger part is that they seemed to be patrolling the areas where the mothers resided. This did not go unnoticed by anyone as rumors were already spreading, but everyone seemed to hold an opposite reaction from your own.

"Well, they definitely do not hurt my eyes.~"

"I heard from one of the kitchen maids that they're Sukuna's spies. Apparently, one of the moms here is being distasteful."

"Our dear husband protecting his prizes, how sweet.~"

"This was bound to happen since last year's inspections– truly disappointing how many failed progeny there were."

Meaningless jokes, endearing words, bustling rumors, but no mentions of concerns. You found this new detail far from good because the guards were not focused on the mothers nor the children but rather on the surroundings of the room they inhabited. Their eyes were cautious and were jumping from place to place, their forms tense, almost as if they were waiting for something to happen. Despite these prominent cues, everyone seemed to overlook it– you had heard a few women state that `Sukuna did not want them looking upon his prizes.`

"Y/n-sama, I've been requested to escort you to the gardens," a voice sounded; however, it was not your attendant but rather Uraume who had called out to you.

You had been seeing the individual more often than usual– what started off as passing glances and minimal greetings had turned into confrontational meetings and regular appearances; this happened to be one of those instances. It did not take you long to rise from your relaxed state, moving to take hold of your children before turning to Sukuna's right hand. Uraume did not say anything, only giving you a bow and a gesture to follow them to the gardens, where your attendant would most likely be waiting. Usually, the girl would be the one who greeted you on these mornings, but because of your recurring night terrors, you opted to have her take the time to focus on other tasks, telling her that you could wake yourself; however, when you first brought this conversation up, she hesitated on the idea. After some convincing, your attendant finally caved and gave you the mornings to yourself, but that did not last long.

It took around a week or two for Sukuna to figure out that you were spending most of your mornings alone, which your partner did not appreciate. Despite his detesting of the news, he did not lash out at anybody for it– the man seemed more apprehensive than infuriated. It took only a few days for Sukuna to appoint his direct helper to retrieve you. From then on, you were seen with Uraume for most of the morning before they left to perform their other duties.

You followed the individual down the corridor, glancing at the walls and what inhabited them. There wasn't much decorating the temple as Sukuna was not a sentimental man– he hardly kept his offerings unless they were of necessity. The walls were blank and lifeless, and viewing them could drive you insane if you focused on them.

"Y/n-sama, do you love Sukun-sama?"

Your breath hitched as you moved your gaze to look at the back of Uraume's head. There question left you speechless; however, it was not because you did not have an answer but rather their sudden interest that took you aback. The person did not vocalize their thoughts much, but you could always tell when they were thinking to themselves.

"Yes, he is my husband. Why would I not love him?" you quickly stated.

"You do not have to lie to me (Y/n)-sama."

You could not help but worry at Uraume's comment. Did they know your intentions? Were they going to remove your twins from your care? Had they already discussed this with Sukuna? How long did you have left?

"And where is your evidence of that, Uraume?" you managed to keep your voice leveled despite the anxiety creeping up on you, but you needed to keep your composure if you wanted to win this little tussle, being if you had to fight at all.

A chuckle resonated through the hall.

"You're right... I have no proof, only my own conspiracies. I admire your ability to hold that over me– your defensive side is a site to see. If I'm being honest, when you first came to the temple, I did not think much of you as I thought you were just another woman to bear Sukuna's kin; you proved me wrong (Y/n)-sama. I do not understand how you managed, but you have Sukuna-sama wrapped around your finger like I have never seen before," Uruame voiced, a lightness to their tone before continuing, "Perhaps it is for the best, after all, you are both seem satisfied with your current standing."

For the rest of the trip, you sustained the following stillness, only giving the individual a hum in response to their last comment. When the garden came into view, you internally sighed in relief, glad to rid yourself of this mind-wracking conversation. Too bad things couldn't stay that way.

"Y/n-sama, your village has started to retaliate against Sukuna's command. Truth be told, it has been going on for the past year; however, things have started to escalate— for the sake of your family unit, keep yourself on guard," The righthand warned, turning to leave you to your daily activities.

Just peachy, another occurrence to write down in your list of troubles.

You would not get proper rest in a while.

Taglist:

@littlemochi @mistalli @youngbeansprout @bbylime @bangtan-forever1479 @idktbhloley @izayas-rings @o3o-aya @pyschopotatomeme @persephonehemingway @otomaniac @meforpr3sident @alurafairy @nezuscribe @my-simp-land @zukuphilia @niya729 @spiritofstatic @bbittersw33t @kashasenpai @decaysan @honeybaegle @ygslvr @outrofenty

#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #ryomen sukuna #sukuna fanfic #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna #tw stockholm syndrome #tw death mention #tw dead body #tw suggestive #tw pedophila mention #tw child molestation

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cardboardheartss · 4 months

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Nara Smith D1 Chart Analysis + Astrocatoraphy

Firstly Nara is a Sharavana Nakshatra/Moon native. Which actually explains why she is soo beautiful! Mainly her eyes, her eyes are the 1st thing you could possibly notice about Nara along with her cute bunny smile too!

Nara has her Dhanishtha Uranus, Shravana Neptune, Shravana Moon and obviously a Shravana Ascendant. Nara has a capricorn (Vedic) stellium which actually makes sense because her bone strucutre is really prominent and her body type is lean. Saturn aslo rules the skin too and Nara has openly spoken about her skin condition eczema (twinnie lol).

Naras Uranus is sextile her Jyeshtha Chiron (11H), this could mean Nara has had unfortunate problems with friendships and this had probably made her transform to better/worse, and worse in a sense of her building her guard up and being more careful on picking friends. This 11H placement could possibly also represent the immense hate she receives on social media but she is able to control herself and not let her emotions get to her.

Nara has a 2H lilith in Shatabhisha at 10 degrees, and that is a Capricorn degree! Nara loves her money to be quite honest, and remeber Capricorn is ruled by saturn, saturn is the time/age lord. Nara married Lucky Blue Smith, who is 3 years older than her. Her Purva Phalguni Venus is in her 8H, which represents peoples finances and it is common for SOME but NOT ALL 8H venus to marry into money.

Nara’s Venus is also sextile her Swati MC (10H), this makes because when she uploads her video she always dresses up to the T! Her outfits look like they cost a lot of money, and also the cutlery and plating she uses seem to have quite expensive pricing.

Nara’s Chitra Mercury in the 10H at 3 degrees (cancer degree) made me giggle lol! Nara is also known for speaking in a really soft and soothing voice! The 10H represents fame and what things one could be known for based off the planets and Nara has her Mercury, the sign of communication. Andd i am certain we all have seen the “Nara Smith Style” trend going on, and people literally mimic her voice and her actions too!

Now for her 6H placements! Overall, the 6H represents diets, routines, work andd hygiene. Nara has her Ardra Jupiter and Rahu in this cusp! SHE WAS BORN TO DO THIS!! Firstly one thing we obviously have to point out is… have you not noticed how clean and well edited Nara’s videos are?

+another thing i would like to point out is how Gemini rules over Mercury, and her Mercury is in her 10H, andd people on social media mimic the same voice tone and actions she does in her videos.

She is percise, and i blame that on her Hasta (Virgo) Sun lol! Nara uploads videos EVERYDAY and she is cooking, which can mean it is in fact her daily routine at times though… i mean a fan posted a picture of her standing in line at Shake Shack lol! Her Jupiter, planet of luck, she will obviously gain a lot from this and she really is good at what she does… it almost seems natural if you ask me!

Nara has her Hasta Sun in the 9H. One thing i would have to point out is her possible or proven devotion to her religions. Her Sun is squaring her Jupiter, and we all had seen the discourse about her religion and that had unfortunately led her to get a hate train, and it some how made her lose support as well.

Damn! She has another Capricorn degree in her Sun, with the Saturn degree there, it could represent that people who mess with her do in fact get their karma, and people did. Majority of users on social media are in full support of Nara now!

Nara’s Purva Ashadha Mars at 16 degrees (Cancer degree) is in her 12H, with that Water + Fire sign combination in MARS… i would avoid angering Nara because she could possibly get really scary. Her Maternal ancestors are there for 1000% and trust they will also go ham on you too if you mess with their baby lol. Now for Mula Ketu in this 12H as well, this could Nara really extroverted/introverted around those closest to her.

Nara also has her Ketu trine Venus, and this could mean that she has a lot of luck in terms of gaining an intrest in occult practices/astrology OR she could already have an intrest in it and is not overly sharing it with the public.

Overall, Nara is one extremely down-to-earth women. She knows how to create a business and is also a great mom, and she was born to be one too! thanks to her lucky Rohini POF and Vertex!

Astrocatography

For Naras Astrocatoraphy lines, she has the Chiron line passing right through her home country Germany! In her Tropical natal chart, Nara has a Sagittarius 11H Chiron, which once again points out how Nara could have grown up being excluded for being half-black or coming from an interracial relationship andd as well as being an African too!

Her Saturn line, which in her Natal chart is in the 5H in Gemini could also mean this delayed her opportunity of finding friends or this could also show that she had trouble learning the language quickly but she eventually got the hang of it!

Nara has her Moon line passing through South Africa, in her Natal Chart its 1H Aquarius Moon at 9 degrees (Sagittarius) . This could mean she feels quite detacthed or not South African enough because she had to emigrate when she was younger! but i hope she knows we support her fully over her this side lol! <3

Welp! Thats it for Nara Smith for nowww!

Thank you for reading!

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vincord · 8 months

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Borderline Kotoko and why.

(I'm not a psychiatrist, a specialist, or anyone else. Everything that follows is just my own vision of the character as a person with bpd. I like to headcanoning to my favorite characters what I have, especially if I see similarities with their feelings/behavior/relationships. I don't headcanon to the characters and my kins what I don't have myself and what I don't know much about. It's just a hedcanon and you may disagree with it, if you want.)

Since her second MV has been released, I can finally put all my thoughts together and write this post. (thanks to my mutual who told me to post this here. Without her little support, I wouldn't have done it)

I would like to start by saying that it is obvious that Kotoko divides the world into black and white, good and evil, allies and enemies. This is one of the main themes that can be traced throughout Kotoko's narrative. There is no middle ground for her, It's either this or that. This hinders Kotoko in her relationships with others, it hinders her in her relationship with herself and the perception of everything that is happening around her.

A pattern of unstable and intense interpersonal relationships characterized by extremes between idealization and devaluation.

During all this time, it has been shown how Kotoko is able to idealize people or just treat them well, but then push them away from her if they do or say something that undermines her trust in them. She takes a defensive position, because an opinion different from hers is equated with a threat and danger.

"Lucky"

Kotoko treats the rescued girl quite well only as long as she doesn't read the news.

_ Kazui

The 1st trial. Question 6.

"Who's the prisoner you have the most interest in?" Kotoko: It's hard to say. As of now, if it's about whose character I can't quite grasp, it'd be Kazui with his strong sense of intellectual curiosity.

The 2nd trial. Timeline (2022/08/05)

Kotoko: ……Mukuhara Kazui. Thanks to you, I wasn’t able to properly serve justice to those who did something unforgivable. I’m currently acting as an agent for our prison guard Es. Don’t get in my way next time. Kazui: Oi oi, don’t be silly, Yuzuriha-chan. There’s no way I could just look away from your outrageous display of violence. Anyway, even disregarding the fact violence against those voted guilty isn’t a part of Milgram’s system, what you’re doing is just acting recklessly based on a broad interpretation. As long as I’m free myself, I’ll stop you. Kotoko: ……what a pointless argument. Hmph. Since Es forgives you, I have no choice but to forgive you myself too. If you to keep to your words, then you’d best do what you can to keep being forgiven. If you’re not, then next time you’ll be one of my targets.

She is interested in him and communicating with him. They really have common topics to talk about and maybe they could even get along. But he does something that she doesn't like and is directed against her and her ideals. Kazui stands up for those whom Kotoko planned to punish, thereby turning her against himself, despite the small number of common themes that seemed to make her a little more loyal to him. This act alone is enough for her to instantly begin to see him as an enemy, not an ally. _

Kotoko's idealization and disillusionment with people are best manifested in her relationship with Es. In the beginning, she offers them cooperation, seeing that Milgram is somewhat similar to what she adheres to, only to push them away when her opinion was not agreed.

The 1st trial. Voice drama.

Kotoko: Some scenes.. you can only see it in a cell. Because you and I are the same, always observing the other prisoners.

Es: Kotoko. A person like you.. What have you planned? Kotoko: Heh. Me, I want to be like you. There's no way I can tolerate sin.

Kotoko: To be honest, I don't know your true intentions. And I don't know whether you are a similar person with similar thoughts. Who knows, maybe it's just my delusion of wishful thinking.

The 2nd trial. Voice drama.

Es: Listen to me. You're wrong. Kotoko: What? We've decided to work together, so i've become your fangs.

Es: That's enough. We have different views on it. I'm not continuing to work with you.

Beginning. They make it clear to her that they disagree with her and consider her wrong.

Es: Kotoko. I will not do what you say. I will determine the way i see both sin and punishment as i want it. It may seem wrong from your point of view. And that's understandable. I'm pretty aware of it.

Kotoko: How ridiculous... It's always like this... All of you weaklings always act like this... All of you enjoy seeing someone getting hurt...

Kotoko: You keep asking for it, but as soon as it happens near you by your own choice, you all start complaining and evading your responsibility... You're always like this... Always such idiots!

Kotoko: You have no power, and yet you make no effort to gain it! You're talking about justice, but it just doesn't make sence! You're invested in people's disasters, yet you take a position of "i have nothing to do with it"! You can't even face your true selves!

Ending. After they disagree with Kotoko, she instantly forgets everything she said before. Now they are no longer similar people with similar interests. Now Es is the exact opposite of that. _

It is also worth recalling that since her birthday in 2022 to birthday in 2023, Kotoko has never contacted any of the other prisoners. She isolated herself from her surroundings for quite a long time, only to then offend them all. She didn't trust any of them before, but now, when she sees that no one agrees with her, she has done everything to build a barrier between them and herself.

Most people with BPD react sharply to rejection, disagreement with them, actions directed against them, and so on, which they can interpret as betrayal and something that threatens their own safety. Sometimes it doesn't matter what a person has done or said. The reaction to this can be strong and vivid. ___

Transient, stress-related paranoid ideation or severe dissociative symptoms.

Here I focus only on paranoia and stress. Kotoko doesn't trust anyone, she's always tense and wary. Even in simple conversations with prisoners, she may feel threatened and something directed against herself. Actually, there is already a post that would fit this point and which is a little more detailed. It says more about PTSD, but still.

The 1st trial. Timeline (2020/05/30)

Mahiru: Hey, Kotoko-chan. There’s something that’s really been bugging me, so do you mind if I ask? ……how do you style yourself so well? Have you always dressed like that? But it also looks like something you’d wear for training. Do you play sport? Ah, or maybe some kind of martial arts? Kotoko: ……you really are carefree. Everyone in here is a “murderer” right? Is this really the time to be asking questions like that? Mahiru: Hmm, I guess so. That’s what they said. But nobody here seems particularly scary or anything, right? If I had to pick someone, then maybe you’re the scariest! Ah, wait, do you do like yoga or something? Kotoko: ……I can’t tell if you’re making fun of me or are just an airhead.

The 1st trial. Timeline (2020/07/09)

Kotoko: Kazui, you do martial arts right. ……what type? Judo? Kazui: Ah, my main is…… judo, and kendo. I also know a little bit of karate. You must have some martial arts experience too, right, Yuzuriha-chan? I can tell by looking. Hmm… probably a combat type…… I’m guessing not karate…… is it Taekwondo? Kotoko: ……I’m not telling you. Stop ogling me like that. It’s gross. Kazui: I-isn’t that a bit unfair?

+ Literally this moment.

___

Inappropriate, intense anger or difficulty controlling anger (e.g., frequent displays of temper, constant anger, recurrent physical fights) +

Emotional instability in reaction to day-to-day events

In both of her MVs, from time to time there is a sudden transition to wolves, the red moon and Kotoko's inner world, during which she gives free rein to her emotions. It's like emotional outbursts and outbursts of aggression, the appearance of which you cannot predict, which is why they cause damage both to the one who has them, and, perhaps, to those who are around.

Not that I can say anything about symbolism, I don't think i understand it. But since this is my post and my headcanon, I can interpret what is happening the way I want.

For all its secrecy and unsociability, most of Kotoko's outfits are quite open, compared to the outfit with the red jacket. When she's in this outfit, she's either in her inner world, or with an emotional outburst, or hurting someone. Wearing a hood is an attempt to protect yourself from the outside world and the people around you, to keep all your emotions to yourself, which are already suppressed. Kotoko, with her hood up, is cold and aloof from everyone. She builds a kind of wall between herself and the others. When she removes the hood from her head, she breaks down these walls, allowing a bunch of different emotions to break out and mix.

I would also like to mention how she sounds in her second voice drama and second song. She goes from emotion to emotion and pretty quickly. The way she quickly goes from laughter to intense anger, from intense anger to utter despair and is on the verge of tears, only to then return to anger again, and then suddenly quiet down. ___

Identity disturbance with markedly or persistently unstable self-image or sense of self +

Chronic feelings of emptiness

The 1st trial. Question 1

"Just who are you?" Kotoko: Yuzuriha Kotoko. Someone who plans to fight for your sake. Well, that depends on you too, though.

Kotoko doesn't perceive herself as a person, but rather as a tool to achieve a particular goal. Someone who will do the dirty work that others won't do. She has a first name, last name, age, and that's all. Her whole definition goes through her own ideals, which she desperately clings to and clings to. Kotoko's views are radical and in most cases don't imply compromises. She's either a hero or nobody, so she always needs a reason to follow her ideals and do everything according to them.

Otherwise, there will be nothing left of her. ___

What can I say at the end? Well, this is my headcannon and that's it. I could have forgotten something, made a mistake somewhere, or not completed it. It's hard for me to keep track of it.

Kotoko is one of my favorite characters and some of the things related to her evoke a strong response in me, even if these things show the negative side of the personality and cause a pang of guilt/dislike. It's like you're being shown those disadvantages of yours that you're trying to ignore.

I like to think that she crushes a lot of emotions inside herself, trying not to let them escape. I like to think that sometimes she's afraid of herself, and sometimes she's not. Her cooperation with someone is both a feeling of being needed, and avoiding loneliness, and a moment of socialization. But she can't stand it, because any little thing or the wrong word triggers a survival mode in her head, which is why she builds high walls between herself and the environment again.

I have a lot of thoughts about her. I just wanted to pour at least a small part of these thoughts out of my head into a relatively structured post and that's all. Thanks for reading it. I've been carrying it all in my head for quite a long time and I don't want to wait for the release of her answers to the questions, you know...

#milgram #kotoko yuzuriha #vncrd's text

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thetourturedwritersclub · 30 days

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Finis vitae sed non amoris-its the end of life but not of love

Chapter two: October

October 1st 1976

Dear diary,

The tutoring sessions with Potter have started and so far it has been hell and I'm not the only one who thinks so. Potter seems to hate Potions too. He's kinda bad at concentrating. He's usually cracking jokes abt the effects of the Potion. Anyways,

Goodbye for now

R. A. B

October 4th 1976

Dear diary,

Barty has a thing for Evan but he won't admit it. And also I've seen how Dorcas looks at Marlene Mckinnon. These are two chaotic duos. I really wonder how this is going to play out.

Goodbye for now

R. A. B

October 11th 1976

Dear diary,

It's raining today and I have a pile of homework to finish. Ugh. What makes the whole thing worse it's that today is a Saturday. I'm supposed to read and relax. Nothing else but unfortunately I do have a tutoring session with Potter. I have to go.

Goodbye for now

R. A. B

October 16th 1976

Dear diary,

I visited the library and found none other than Remus Lupin, reading the picture of Dorian Grey. We chatted about the book and about the characters and the writing style. It was really pleasant actually. He's the only one of Sirius's friends I can have an intelligent conversation with. Speaking of Sirius I saw him on the hall today.

He was being his usual self, cracking jokes with Potter and Peter. On the 20th, is the first Quidditch match for our team. Slytherin versus Ravenclaw. It's stressful because their team has significantly improved. So you can see my worries.

Goodbye for now,

R. A. B

October 20th 1976

Dear diary.

Well,we won the match!! Everything was so chaotic during that match. Minutes felt like hours and everyone was full of adrenaline. I love everything about it. It was such a fun yet scary match. For a second I thought we were going to lose because the scores were extremely close. It was 180 for us and 160 for them. We're throwing a celebration party on the common room. I'm helping with the decorations, while Barty and Evan are going to sneak in food and drinks.

Goodbye for now

R. A. B

October 23rd 1976

Dear diary,

The party was fun but it was loud. I know it's like saying why is the water too wet. But I can handle loud just not THAT type of loud. To be honest with you I just came for the fire whiskey and the rose lemonade.

I tried setting Ev and Barty up, by me and Pandora leaving but since there both ABSURD levels of oblivious they went to cause havoc instead by traumatising the fat Lady in the Gryffindor tour by screaming as loud as they could. God these two.

Goodbye for now

R. A. B

October 27th 1976

Dear diary,

Today I helped Pandora brew some potions. For what did she need these Potions I don't know. But what I do now is that you don't need to question Pandora. She's always has everything under control. The Potions were Liquid Luck and Verita Serum. But I am curious.

Goodbye for now

R. A. B

October 31 1976

Dear diary,

Yesterday was Halloween so we had the class hours shortened. Thank god. I had History and Transfiguration.

I unfortunately received a letter from my parents. Saying that I am invited to spend Christmas at home if I desire. Invited to spend Christmas at my own home? No thank you. I would rather stay at Hogwarts with my friends. And besides it's October. They're 2 moths early.

Tomorrow it's Friday and I have a tutoring session with Potter.

Goodbye for now

R. A. B

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

Y'all the second chapter is finally done!!!! I wanted to make this one eventful and interesting, at least I tried lol.

For next chapter I really want to take athletic rivals to friends to lovers Jegulus but I'm debating it. I really want to feature Quidditch matches more often too.

Btw I'm so sorry this chapter took me so long to write. I had family stuff and irl suff to attend to.

Amazing ppl who wanted to be tagged (tell me if want to be untagged) :

@raine-ray

@ivy-is-chaos

@reddamselette

40 notes · View notes

supernaturalscribe67 · 1 year

Text

Just Like Mama Used to Make

Words: 6,178

POV: 1st & 3rd Person

Pairing: John x Son!Reader - Dean/Sam x Brother!Reader [Platonic]

Warning(s): Language, John Winchester, Fluff, Mention of Childhood Trauma, Mention of Death, I think that's it??

Summary: Taking inspiration from his father, the reader starts his very own journal. For his first entry, he recalls some of the memories that shaped him into the hunter that he has become.

Request:

Hello, hope you are having a good day/night

I was wondering if I could request John/Dean/Sam Winchester reaction to having a brother who looks like their mother and picked up hunting like breathing?

@xweirdo101x

A/N: My very first request! It kind of got away from me, but I really hope that I was able to do your request justice. Hope you like it!~

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

Hello

Hey!

Dear Diary

SEPTEMBER 2014

To be honest, I have no idea how to start something like this. I was never one for writing, nor have I been one who can easily express my emotions. I guess I got that trait from the Winchester side of my family. Still, I have thought a lot about Dad’s journal lately. The things that he wrote down. It’s not detailed. It’s nowhere near what it was like growing up with him, but it still provides Dean, Sammy, and me with some information and nostalgia from time to time.

So, I figured ‘Why the Hell not’, I might as well write down some things in my own journal. I’m going to die someday anyway, and I want people to read this and be able to see what my life was like. From the good times that I spent with my family to the bad times when I lost my family. Hell, maybe this journal will get me into a history book someday when someone else discovers the Men of Letters Bunker. Who knows. Maybe I’ll be famous after I die, or perhaps it’s just wishful thinking.

This journal has already turned into a clusterfuck. I don’t even know what to write about. I can’t even think of things to write about. Should I say things about my life? Should I just write down random things I think of throughout the day? I don’t know how to do it. Even when I look at Dad’s journal for inspiration, there’s nothing to inspire in it. A lot of it is notes on how to kill monsters and other stuff is just a bunch of personal bullshit he was going through.

Well, we were all going through it.

I guess I’ll start by writing down some of the memories I’ve had. If I don’t like it, then I’ll throw this journal away and start another one. I don’t want future historians to think of me as some scatterbrained moron, despite what Sammy and Dean say at times. If you’re reading this now, I’m actually the smartest Winchester brother. Don’t believe a thing Sam and Dean say. I’m the brains of the operations and our day-to-day lives. I’ve saved them more times than I could count.

Then again, they’ve probably saved me just as much.

Alright, I’m getting side-tracked. I guess I’ll just start writing.

Should I introduce myself first before I do so?

My name is (Y/N) Winchester. I’m a hunter.

This is my story (God, that was terrible)

AUGUST 1991

I remember the first time I mentioned to my father that I wanted to be a hunter, just like him. I was six years old. Dad didn’t take it very kindly. He yelled, a lot. Screamed sometimes. I never truly understood why he would always get so upset whenever I would ask him to teach me how to hunt.

It wasn’t until I was a man that I understood why.

I look just like my mother.

I don’t know how I could have been so blind all those years. I have her hair. I have her face. I have her smile. All of these things have been said by my father before. Not necessarily when he was sober. I was always the one person that reminded my Dad of his wife. Of my mother. I think a part of him wanted to keep me safe, just so he could always look at me and remember what she looked like. Even when I was a child, though, I could see the hurt behind his eyes every once in a while when he would look at me. It made me feel guilty.

Still does.

I know that none of it is my fault, that he made himself hurt.

Still…

For months, I would ask my Dad to teach me about hunting. To teach me about the monsters that crept through the darkness. Each time I asked, he would reject my request and I would get scolded for asking such a stupid question.

So, one night, around the age of seven or eight (one of the two, I can’t remember exactly), I decided that school wasn’t very important. There were occasions when I snuck out of classes to go to the library of whatever town we were in at the time to search the limited amount of lore books that they had. There were times when I got caught by Dean before I was able to sneak out. Other times it was by Sammy. Sometimes, my father would get a call from the school because I had been reported missing.

I was a problem child, as you could tell.

It’s not that I hated school.

It just wasn’t my favorite.

And I wanted to hunt.

So, anyway…from town to town, I would skip class, go to the library, and learn everything that I could learn about hunting if there was anything to learn. Sometimes, I would ask Dean questions. Sometimes he would answer, other times he told me to not worry about it and to mind my own business. It used to hurt whenever Dean would reject any of the questions that I would ask, but I know now that it was so he didn’t get in trouble with Dad. I remember giving him a hard time about it, about not answering me. Dean, if you’re reading this, I’m sorry for being a jerk.

Then again, Dean, if you’re reading this, you shouldn’t be reading this and expect some glitter to appear in your body wash.

No one knew about my secret research. No one knew the reason behind my skipping classes. I would constantly make up lies, most of them being about how much I hated moving around and just wanted to rebel against my father. Typical kid stuff.

It wasn’t until August of 1991, when I was ten years old, that I was finally able to put that research to use.

(Y/N) stared down at the paper that rested on a notebook in his lap. His eyes were wide and filled with stress, fingers tangled in his short hair, his back slouched ever so slightly. Dean sat a couple of inches away from him near the end of the bed, his homework in his lap, while Sam leaned against the headboard, a book in his hands that he had gotten from the school library. Dean looked up from his work, noticing the look of despair on his brother’s face before he glanced down at his worksheet. Dean grimaced and let out a hiss.

“Multiplying fractions?” He asked, a hint of sympathy in his tone.

Without looking up, (Y/N) gave a short nod. Dean pressed his lips together in a thin line before he set his pencil down beside him.

“Do you need help?” Dean offered.

(Y/N) lifted his head and looked at his older brother, giving a small, soundless nod. Dean offered a smile as he moved closer to him so that they were sitting next to one another. Dean craned his neck to be able to look at the paper, tilting his head as he studied the equations.

“Which one are you having problems with?” He asked.

“All of them,” (Y/N) answered.

Dean snorted. “Okay, so, it’s easy-”

“Wow, Dean thinks math is easy?” Sam mumbled, a smirk playing on his lips.

Dean lifted his head and glared at Sam. “Shut up, bitch,”

Sam shot a bitch-face towards Dean. “You shut up, jerk,” he retorted.

(Y/N) let out a frustrated grunt. “Will both of you assholes shut up!? I don’t understand this!” His voice was filled with annoyance and desperation.

Dean and Sam shot their brother a look. Sam rolled his eyes as he returned to the book. Dean looked back down at the paper, mumbling an apology under his breath. He then began to help (Y/N) with his homework, walking him through all of the problems that he had. (Y/N) still felt as if Dean was speaking in a foreign language, but he could understand the homework a little easier.

When the paper was halfway finished, the door to the motel room suddenly burst open, causing the three brothers to jump, their eyes wide as they turned and looked at the person who had just entered. John stormed into the room, slamming the door behind him. He stomped over to the couch that sat in front of the small television set and plopped down on it. He ran his hands down his face and let a small growl emit from his throat.

Dean, Sam, and (Y/N) shared a glance, almost as if they were communicating telepathically. After a while, Dean and Sam both turned their attention toward their brother, their eyes locked on his. After looking back and forth between the two, (Y/N) let out a soundless sigh as he set his homework beside him. He moved off of the bed and padded across the aged carpet to the couch. Slowly, he walked around the sofa so that he could see his father.

John looked tired. Dark circles were prominent underneath his eyes. One of his legs was propped up on the couch while the other lay bent in front of him. His elbow rested on the arm of the sofa, his cheek placed against his right hand as he stared at the television in front of him. Nothing played. When (Y/N) came into view, John glanced at him out of the corner of his eye for a brief moment. He said nothing.

“Hey, Dad,” (Y/N) greeted. “Um…how were the, uh, interviews with the victims’ families?”

John shook his head. “Not great, kid,” he grumbled.

“No?”

“No.”

As (Y/N) stared at his father, he timidly moved over to the couch. John hesitantly moved his leg as (Y/N) sat down next to him.

“Did you…learn anything?”

“Why aren’t you boys in bed?” John grunted.

“We’re finishing our homework.”

“Then shouldn’t you be working on it?”

(Y/N)’s shoulders slouched. “I just…wanted to see how it went is all…”

“You want to know how it went?” John’s voice got deeper. “You really want to know how it went? Fucking terrible. That’s how it went,” John straightened himself out on the couch before he stood up. He began to pace around the room, his tone of voice getting more and more irritable. “I thought I had a good fucking lead going. All of the victims went to the same fucking bookstore a couple of days before their deaths and got the same book. Seems like a fucking coincidence, right? Then I go to the goddamn bookstore to see what the book was and all it was was something called Aradia or some shit like that. Some type of foreign book bullshit, I don’t fucking know.”

(Y/N) furrowed his brows as John continued to rant. He looked down and away from his father. He got lost, deep in thought, the words that John was speaking irrelevant to him now. Finally, he turned back to him, kneeling on the couch as he raised his brows.

“Did you say Aradia?” He questioned in the middle of John’s rant.

John stopped pacing around the room as he looked back at (Y/N). Dean and Sam’s attention immediately turned to him, their eyes wide. John’s jaw was clenched, the anger and irritation still emanating from him. “Yeah,” he replied deeply.

“Aradia…” (Y/N) trailed before he shook his head. “That’s not a foreign book, Dad! That’s only the first half of the title. The full title is Aradia or the Gospel of the Witches. It was one of the most influential pieces of literature in the nineteenth century to witches! You’re dealing with a witch!” (Y/N)’s eyes widened as a smile appeared on his face.

John’s expression went from furious to confusion. He narrowed his eyes. “How do you know about that book?” He questioned.

“I read about it in a library a little bit ago.” (Y/N) answered quickly.

John pressed his tongue into his cheek as he slowly nodded his head. He looked at Sam and Dean, who were still staring with wide eyes at their brother, and then back at (Y/N). He ran a hand down his face stressfully.

“You boys finish your homework,” he mumbled as he walked towards the door. “I have to make a call.”

Without allowing anyone to respond, John left the motel room, closing the door behind him a little gentler than when he entered. (Y/N)’s smile faded as he watched his father leave, his shoulders dropping. The three brothers sat in silence for a minute before they looked at one another.

“Come on,” Dean said as he patted the spot on the bed next to him. “Let’s finish these math problems.”

Even though Dad never told me, I knew I was right. I knew it was a witch that he had dealt with. We didn’t even get to go to school the next day. He had found and killed her before I was able to turn in that math homework. What a waste of time.

I would like to think that Dad was proud of me in that situation, but he never said anything. He never brought it up again as far as I can remember. It was something that he had put in the past, along with all of the other hunts that we had been on. However, even if he wasn’t proud of me back then, I was proud of myself. Proud that I was able to help my Dad even if I wasn’t beside him when he took that bitch down.

God, I hate witches.

MAY 1993

I didn’t touch a gun until I was twelve years old. By that point, I had stopped begging Dad to teach me how to hunt, because it seemed that the only answer I was going to be getting was ‘No’. I figured that I would go to the next best person for the job.

I had to ask Dean.

Dean was very protective of Sammy and me when we were younger. He still is super protective of us, even in our ripe old ages. But because of how protective he could get, he was very hesitant about teaching me how to shoot a gun. However, with Dad talking about Dean going on hunts with him more and more by then, I knew that I would be left alone with Sammy. I used the excuse that I needed to learn how to shoot a gun eventually so that I could protect the two of us when we were by ourselves. I couldn’t be expected to be safe when the only two people who knew how to shoot were away.

That reasoning caught Dean’s attention.

After the fifth or sixth time asking him, Dean had finally agreed. A couple of days passed and, when Dad was a couple of towns away gathering information for a hunt, Dean and I skipped school. Shocking, right? I think Dean used the excuse that I hadn’t been feeling well and he had to take care of me. He even wrote out a fake doctor’s note and everything. Back then, you could get away with a handwritten note. I’m not too sure if you could now.

Once Sammy had been dropped off at school that day, Dean and I walked to a creek a couple of miles away from the school. He had set up a couple of cans on a log, some recycled stuff that he had picked up along the way. He had brought one of Dad’s small handguns with him. When he gave it to me, it felt so surreal. So different.

I never really understood what the big fuss was about, though.

Shooting a gun was easy.

“No, you can’t have your hand that low! You have it that low and the gun is going to come out of your hand when you shoot it,” Dean grumbled.

Dean took (Y/N)’s hand in his and adjusted it so that it fits perfectly onto the grip of the handgun. He then took his other hand and placed it on top of the one that was already on the gun. (Y/N) furrowed his brows as he looked at the way his hands nestled against one another.

“This doesn’t feel right.” He said. “Why can’t I just hold it with one hand like the cops do in the movies?”

“Because you’re twelve, dummy. You’re not in your forties and have years of experience under your belt,” Dean rolled his eyes. “And that is exactly how you should hold it if you don’t want to get hit in the face with your weapon after you fire it.”

(Y/N) listened intently to what his brother was saying, giving him a small nod before he straightened his back up.

“Stop.” Dean held up a hand.

(Y/N) shot Dean a confused look. “What?”

“You’re standing wrong.”

“I’m standing wrong…”

“Yeah, here,” Dean walked over, pressing his hand against the top of (Y/N)’s back ever so slightly, leaning him forward. “If you have your back too straight, then you’re more likely to fall backward. You also,” Dean kicked (Y/N)’s feet apart. “Need to have your feet apart. Keeps you more ground.”

(Y/N) looked down at the ground for a moment, taking in the appearance and feel of his stance. The way his back leaned forward and the way his legs were spread. He nodded.

“Okay, now I shoot?”

“Is your safety off?”

“Safety?”

Dean sighed, moving back over to him. He took the gun from (Y/N)’s grasp and flashed the left side of the gun. “You see this little trigger?” When Dean received a nod from his brother, he continued. “If it’s facing side-to-side, that means the safety is on. That means the gun won’t fire. All you have to do is flick this little switch,” Dean turned the safety off. “Once it’s up and down, then that means it’s ready to fire.” He handed the gun back to (Y/N). “Now, get back into position.”

(Y/N) glanced down at the safety mechanism on the gun for a moment before he nodded. He got back into the position that he was in, spreading his legs apart the same length Dean had and slouching his back forward ever so slightly. Once he received a nod of approval from Dean, (Y/N) lifted his arms, cocking his head to the side. He aimed at the can farthest to the left. He closed his left eye and placed his finger on the trigger.

“Stop!” Dean said more abruptly.

(Y/N) jumped and moved his finger off the trigger, standing up straighter to face Dean. “What!?” He asked exasperatedly.

Dean shook his head. “You can’t have one eye closed.”

“Why not? Snipers do it!”

“Because snipers are far enough away from combat. They need to look through a scope to get a good shot. You, on the other hand, are feet away from whatever monster you’re dealing with. What happens when you’re facing more than one monster? You leave yourself open to being taken out on your left.” Dean’s tone was stern, yet calm. His arms were crossed over his chest.

Slowly, (Y/N) nodded as he grasped an understanding of Dean’s thinking. “Both eyes open?”

“Both eyes open.” Dean backed up a bit. “Back into position.”

(Y/N) let out a shaky breath before resuming his position. Legs spread, back bent, arms up, head tilted, both eyes open. His goal was to hit the used can of peaches that sat on the outside of the log. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest from anxiousness and anticipation. He was surprised the gun wasn’t shaking in his grasp.

His eyes were on the cartoon peaches that were etched onto the label of the can. More specifically, the pit that sat in the center of the peach. He wanted to hit the pit. He never moved his eyes from the pit as he took a deep breath, his shoulders rising. Finally, as he exhaled, his shoulders dropping, he pulled the trigger.

The can flew into the air and seemed to dramatically and unceremoniously fall into the creek. A small splash echoed in (Y/N)’s ears, accompanied by the ringing of the gunshot.

One thing that (Y/N) noted was that his hands ached, both from the vice grip he had on the gun and the recoil that he hadn’t expected. Sure, Dean had informed him about it before, but he wasn’t sure how it would feel. His hands would definitely bruise.

(Y/N) lowered the gun, looking over at his brother to see that Dean wore a stunned expression on his face. Dean’s mouth hung open as his eyes were glued to the can that lay in the flowing water. (Y/N) watched in silence as Dean walked over to the can. He reached down and picked it up by the opening, wincing from the heat of the bullet hole before he swapped hands. He studied the can. It seemed like too much time had passed before he turned the can so (Y/N) could see.

(Y/N) had gotten it on his first try.

The bullet hole?

Right in the pit.

(Y/N) raised his brows, a mixture of pride and surprise coursing through him. A wide smile appeared on his face. Similarly, a smirk appeared on Dean’s lips. Dean chuckled before he tossed the can into the water.

“Beginner’s luck,” he said, brushing his hands onto his jeans. “Let’s see if you can hit the other ones.”

I shot through the rest of the cans, the same as I had done for that can of peaches. Not to toot my own horn, but I was a natural when it came to a pistol. I don’t mean to sound egotistic about this, but Dean can back up any statement that I’m making about this story.

I could tell that Dean was proud of me that day. He never said he was, but the way he looked at me and the way he treated me afterward told me things that words couldn’t. It’s hard to describe, but it almost felt like he had gained some respect for me that day. It felt good. Even as I am writing about this story, I can’t keep the smile off my face. I always looked up at Dean, so it feels great to think that I had done something to bring a smile to his stupid face.

My hands hurt like hell after it was all said and done. I had gotten a couple of bruises near the thumb on my right hand that I brushed off to my Dad as something that I had picked up when I got into a fight at school. Dean had backed me up when Dad got on my ass about it. Dad told me that I had to get along with the other kids so I didn’t give the wrong impression at the schools I went to. It wasn’t like they would remember me anyway. Of course, I didn’t tell him that. I knew when to bite my tongue.

Dad never found out about the shooting practice. I get a feeling that he had a sneaking suspicion as soon as he took me to practice himself years later, but I never told him about it. I never told him that Dean had been the one to teach me how to stand correctly, or where to find the safety of a gun. I know that he knew it was Dean. A part of me wonders if Dean ever got in trouble for it, or if it was something that Dad even brought up. I would never ask Dean about it now, though.

Some things are best to be left in the past.

NOVEMBER 1999

By the time I turned eighteen, I had already been on several hunts with Dad and Dean. The majority of the time, though, I would stay back and watch Sammy. Even though he was a teenager and had the capability of taking care of himself, Dad expressed that he was still a kid and needed to be looked after. A part of me thought it was bullshit at the time, but another part of me was glad that I was able to spend time with my younger brother.

Now, I know the real reason behind my staying with Sammy was because some of the hunts that Dad and Dean went on were ‘rough’. A little ‘too hard’ for me.

Dad didn’t want to lose the son that reminded him of his wife.

At least, that was what Dean told me, and I believe him.

It was a blessing and a curse, come to think of it. There were times that I stayed behind and Dad called me up, needing me to do some research for the case that they were working on. He had said it would be faster if someone was working on the research while he and Dean were out taking interviews. In the end, it was more efficient. I would gather the necessary information and hand it off to him and they would be back at the motel a lot quicker than if they had been the ones to look up the information.

That was the system that we worked with for a while. After a couple of months, Dad informed me that he didn’t want me to do the research anymore. He wanted Sammy to be the one to do it. I remember him saying that Sammy needed to focus more on the hunting aspect of his life. That school was just a waste of time at that point. He was old enough to get into it.

Sammy hated the idea when I told him. He loved school. He was always such a nerd. Still is. An even bigger nerd if you can believe it. I knew how much school meant to him, and I didn’t want him to be discouraged from doing his schoolwork. He shouldn’t have been forced to do anything that he didn’t want to. So, I decided that I was going to do the research and just tell Dad that he had been the one to do it. Sammy was thankful.

That was until Dad called.

Dad wasn't as stupid as I took him for most of the time. He knew that Sammy hadn’t done any of the research, that I was the one that did it all. By the time he and Dean got back, he gave Sammy a verbal lashing. I tried to defend him, but nothing worked. In the end, Sammy gave in. He would do the research for the next hunt.

Like clockwork, when the next hunt rolled around, with Sammy and I staying back at the motel, Dad had called. He had given Sammy the information that he needed to research and we headed off to the local library. Once we got the necessary books, we took them back to the motel and he began to work.

I could tell that it wasn’t going well.

Sam sat at the small table near the motel room door, two books placed in front of him. His back was slouched as he looked from one book to another, flipping through pages frantically. He had been going at it for several hours by then, evident by the bags that were present underneath his eyes and the redness around his pupils. (Y/N) sat on the couch, watching some old western show. Now and then he would look at his little brother. He could see how tired and stressed he was about the entire situation. (Y/N) had never seen Sam that stressed out before, even when he was studying for a test in one of his AP classes.

Eventually, Sam pressed the palms of his hands against his eyes, lowering his head, as if accepting defeat. (Y/N) studied his movements, and, after he saw that he had not moved in a while, he decided the best thing to do was to help him out. He picked up the remote and turned off the television before tossing it aside. He stood from his spot on the couch and walked over to the table. He grabbed the spare chair, pulled it beside Sam, and sat down.

“Having some trouble?” He questioned.

Sam’s shoulders rose and fell as a sigh escaped his lips. He removed his hands from his face and placed them into his lengthy hair. His eyes were cast down towards the table. He stayed in the same position for some time before he looked up at (Y/N).

“No,” he answered, pulling the books towards him. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.”

“I said ‘I’m fine’,” Sam repeated through gritted teeth.

(Y/N) studied him with an expressionless face. Sam kept his eyes down, looking from one book to another. (Y/N) was able to see the stress that was emitted from his brother even better with how close he was sitting. He took one look at the books before he shook his head.

“I’m sorry Dad’s making you do this.”

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. You shouldn’t be doing this alone the first time…” he trailed. “But if Dad found out I helped you-”

“You’d get in trouble, and so would I. Yeah, I know.”

(Y/N) pursed his lips. “You know, it took me a little over a year to get comfortable with translating Latin. I sometimes screw up from time to time.”

“Still?”

“Yeah, still,” he chuckled. “That’s why I got something that helps me out now and again.”

With that, (Y/N) stood from his spot on the chair and waltzed over to the bed in the far corner of the room. Beside the bed sat his black duffel bag. He picked it up and placed it on the bed. He began to rummage through it, sorting through clothes and weapons that rested at the bottom. Wedged into the corner of his bag sat a book. He picked it up and brought it over to the table. He took a seat next to Sam once more and placed the book in front of him.

Sam furrowed his brows as he studied the cover. It was a Latin-English translation book. It looked rather similar to the one that he had picked up at the library. The only difference was the color of the cover was a little faded and, along the outside of the book, between all of the pages, were multi-colored Post-it notes. Each Post-it note had different letter combinations on it, as well as notes written on some of them. Sam opened the cover and he raised his brows when he saw that the first page was replaced by a notebook-sized piece of paper, taped to the front page. There were multiple words in English on the left side with their corresponding Latin translation on the right.

“What’s this?” Sam asked.

“It’s a translation book I picked up a couple of years back at a bookstore. I figured since there were going to be a lot of things that needed translating, then I was going to have to make it easier for myself to find the words. The only problem is that most of these translation books are so damn compressed that it’s hard to find certain words without getting blurry vision. So, I took the liberty to mark down all of the times when the letters change in the words. For example, when the words that start with ‘AB’ transfer to words that start with ‘AC’. It always made it easier to find. Plus, I made a page at the beginning about common words that I have found in my research so that it would be easier to translate them.”

As (Y/N) explained, he gestured with his hand toward the book. Sam listened intently, taking in all of the information that he was given, nodding his head. Once (Y/N) was done talking, Sam looked down at the book and then back up at him.

“You did all this?”

“Yeah,” (Y/N) chuckled. “Crazy, right?”

Sam snorted. “Yeah. Wish you put that much effort into your homework when you were still in school.”

“Hey,” (Y/N) leaned back in his chair and lifted his hands in mock surrender. “School was fine and all, but this is something I enjoy, and I’m good at it. I’m good at hunting research and you’re good in school.”

“And what’s Dean good at?”

“Being a pain in the ass.”

Sam smiled widely, his dimples more prominent than (Y/N) had seen in a while. After a beat or two of silence, the smile faded as he looked down.

“I wish Dad could see that I’m good at school.”

The corner of (Y/N)’s mouth curved downward. It was his turn to look down at the table. He reached over and placed a hand on Sam’s shoulder comfortingly. “I know, kiddo,” he mumbled. “But Dean and I both see how much of a nerd you are. Don’t worry.”

A smile returned to Sam’s face, but it wasn’t as happy as the last one. They sat in silence for a little bit before (Y/N) lowered his hand and Sam moved back to the books.

“You got it from here?” (Y/N) questioned.

“Yeah, I got it,”

“Great,” (Y/N) said as he stood from his seat and patted Sam on the back. “Call me over if you need anything.”

“Yeah, I’ll make sure to call you over when I get to the part about multiplying fractions.”

(Y/N) glared at Sam and crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

“No, no I’m not.”

Sammy still teases me to this day about not knowing how to multiply fractions. Even though it was decades ago at this point, he still likes to tease me about it. Little shit.

With my help, Sammy was able to get the translations done a lot faster than he expected. I remember seeing the relief on his face when he had finished. Poor kid was so exhausted. Dad was more than pleased when he called and asked about it. Dad never found out that I had helped him out a bit, and neither Sammy nor I were planning on telling him. I just wanted Sammy to have an easier time than I did when I was first learning about research, specifically translations.

In the end, I would have to say that Sammy is better than me when it comes to research. He’s taken the reigns on many different hunts because of how proficient he is with technology. I’m good with old-fashioned ways of research, but Sammy’s the nerd when it comes to computers.

Sammy has told me once or twice, though, that I was the one that helped him the most when it came to his knowledge of research. That, without my help, he wouldn’t have been as good at it as he is now.

I call bullshit. Sammy has always been a smart kid.

He could do anything he put his mind to.

SEPTEMBER 2014

This is all I can write at the moment. Dean called me to the kitchen a couple of minutes ago saying that dinner was ready. I need to wrap this up before he or Sammy comes in here and sees what I’m doing. I know that I would get endlessly teased about keeping a ‘diary’. I need to make sure to hide this in a good enough place where neither of them will find it if they go snooping through my room.

Sam, Dean, if you guys are reading this, I’ll get you back.

But if you’re going to read it, I just want to let you know that I love you guys.

Not that I’m into chick-flick moments or anything.

I’m just glad that I have you guys as my brothers. No one could ask for a better family than you two.

Okay, that was cheesy. I wish I wasn’t writing this in pen so I could erase it.

Dammit.

I’m not too sure how to end this, so I guess I’ll just write again sometime when I can. Perhaps I could do like Dad did in his journal and write about all of the new monsters we have discovered over the years. Or maybe write more memories down. This journal is going to be so cluttered that no one is going to want to read it. There’s no way I’m going to get famous from this.

Dean just called me to the kitchen again.

Until next time.

Happy hunting. (That was stupid, think of something better).

WE LOVE YOU TOO - SAM + DEAN

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