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givehimthemedicine · 2 months ago

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time for my big lumax rantpost. I used to be way more of a shipper but upon reexamining some of my GA-era assumptions, I'm here to tell you why it sucks, and why I don't look forward to lumax endgame if it's the same lumax we've been getting.

lumax has fantastic potential, but needs lots of work to actually become the ship most of the fandom thinks it is.

I get the sense most on here consider lumax ST's darling perfect ship which is sullied by weak and/or racist writing. while I wouldn't argue at all that the writing does right by Lucas, I do think it's important to recognize lumax as an intentionally-written badly flawed relationship, NOT a poorly-written perfect relationship. (the writing for 5 has a lot to prove so we'll see)

lumax is obviously happening. no ending to Lucas's story makes sense other than him getting the girl. however, I don't like that from either character's standpoint.

from hers - Max is not a prize. and from his - Max is no prize.

Max is a pretty shitty girlfriend.

we've never seen her show Lucas any interest in learning anything about him. I can't remember a time she's complimented him, said anything nice about him, or done anything purely for his benefit. virtually all of their serious conversations have been about her, and the scant few that are sort of about him are inevitably just a lead-in to him offering support to her.

Lucas and Max's relationship - pre, during, and post dating - is 100% about what he can do for her. he's the one making 100% of the effort.

it seems like most of their interactions are him walking on eggshells trying to placate, reassure, or convince her, all for the reward of.... what. being allowed to continue existing near her? like yeah, she's a cool girl, but. that can't be it.

what good is getting the girl if the girl doesn't really offer anything?

. . .

through the seasons, semiquickly:

season 2

Lucas and Dustin both like Max, so they invite her trick or treating, offering to protect her from bullies and show her where the good candy is. in other words, the first Max / Lucas interaction is him offering something to benefit her. Max returns no appreciation or even response to the invite, yet still shows up to reap the benefits.

that pretty much sets the tone.

Max wants to be included, but that's a sensitive subject, so she puts on aloof airs to protect herself. it's an act, but nonetheless it's all Lucas receives.

the facade slips on multiple occasions though; Lucas is permitted to see her vulnerability, and we can see she's actually more desperate to make the connection than he is.

Dustin seeks Steve's manipulation tactics to use on Max, but Lucas wins her over by treating her like an equal and offering her genuine friendship.

he risks both his place in the party and his safety/life to include her, gives his undivided attention when she talks to him, asks questions that show his interest and concern, he reassures, uplifts and compliments her, and physically protects her.

in return, Max. uhh. well she does apologize for being a jerk, although she doesn't exactly stop, lmao. this is one of only two moments I can think of when Max reveals any regard for what Lucas thinks of her.

lumax is off-balance before it even starts, although s2 is when I think that dynamic is most permissible. since Max is a newcomer, Lucas has the advantage in many respects, and it makes sense for him to be the one extending a hand to her.

when Billy attacks Lucas for hanging out with Max, he could be gravely hurt if not for Steve taking the beating instead. Max joins in the momentary group hug but never says a word about this. (I suspect the writers mean for Max's bus apology to have proactively served as a veiled "sorry my stepbro is racist" but more felt needed in that moment.)

then they go to the dance and she kisses him and it's cute and everything is happy for ten whole seconds.

between 2 and 3

even though the summer of '85 is "the good days," this relationship is already careening downhill.

we learn that Max has dumped Lucas five times - such a regular occurrence that he takes it in stride and is well practiced at winning her back as a result.

unfortunately it's Lucas taking to heart the "happy wife happy life" policy from his dad that's set up lumax as something that seems to serve only Max. her awareness of the policy means she holds all the cards.

season 3

Max has secured her place in the party and the relationship, and now it's time for her to bring something to the table, but I honestly can't name one thing. it's still Lucas bending over backwards and Max sometimes being a bit of a jerk. (another act. we'll come back to this)

from the start of 3 we see an excessively secure Max and an obsequious Lucas. she doesn't show him any of the vulnerability that made her endearing in 2. they share fun moments, but we can infer that she doesn't treat him very well in ways that matter.

at one point she even plays mad just to watch him panic. you get the feeling this boy can never feel secure in his relationship. yeah she's just teasing, but do you think Lucas is allowed to tease too?

when El comes to Max for advice, she tells her that "boyfriends lie all the time" and this is before we see Lucas lie to her.

when Mike comes to Lucas for advice, he confidently schools him on how to get back in El's good graces by buying her a present - making clear he's been following his dad's advice all summer long and it's been working:

L: Dad? When Mom's mad at you, how do you make her not mad? C: First, I apologize. Then, I get your mother whatever she wants. L: Even when she's wrong? C: She's never wrong, son.

the mall confrontation is the first time we see Lucas really lie to Max, but even then, the girls don't actually have proof Nana isn't sick.

it's telling, actually, that Lucas's loyalty goes to Mike instead of Max in this moment. in s2 it was the other way around (Lucas pissed off the whole party by including her in the group and telling her the truth - a technically banishable offense). but now he's back to his s1 bros before hoes policy, and not only backs up but expands on Mike's lie. after dating almost a year, his loyalty to Max should be even stronger, but here we see the opposite. if Max had been at least as good a friend to him as Mike, I'm inclined to think he would at least have tried to be noncommittal here.

Max is so confident Lucas will have nothing on his mind but winning her back, as always - meanwhile who we actually see Lucas apologizing to is Will.

she may have had Lucas wrapped around her little finger all summer, but we're seeing that start to uncoil. if Lucas apologizes, it's offscreen.

when Billy tries to break out of the sauna to kill Max, Lucas slingshots him and body shields Max during the fight. next thing you know, Max is back to being cliquey with El in the bathroom (making fun of Mike even though he was the only one who did anything to save El's life?? girl you're being shitty to boyfriends that aren't even yours)

they seem to be a couple again by the end of 3, but the relationship is weakened...

between 3 and 4

..which sets the scene for how the two apparently drift when Max ends it once again. she's not playing this time - she uses the term "break up" instead of "dump" and Lucas has accepted that it's over.

depression makes it hard for Max to connect with him, but the way she treated him in 3 has likely also eaten away at his insistence on prioritizing her. if you push someone away over and over you can't be too surprised if they stay further away each time.

so Max withdraws socially and Lucas apparently doesn't go to his usual lengths to pursue her.

he's still making effort though! the "stalking" comment makes it clear he's been trying to approach her. we know he's been inviting her to his basketball games. him already knowing her favorite song as of 4x4 is more evidence of him taking an interest in her between seasons.

he clearly still cares a lot about Max, but good for him for pursuing his own hobbies and friendships as well.

season 4

Lucas finally asks Max to do something to support him for once (come to his game), but she shuts it down hard.

we know Max still cares about him, but that's just it - WE know. he doesn't. to his face, it's bristling rejection even while he literally begs for the chance to support her.

saving Max's life is a group effort, but Lucas knowing her favorite song is the key that saves her life, and it's only after that that she's friendly towards him again.

the only time I can recall Max expressing any concern for Lucas's wellbeing is when she asks if he's okay in 4x6 - and he only gets a few sentences to process Patrick's death before it's time for him to turn it into an apology to her. sigh.

Lucas is the only one of Max's friends to voice any objection to her suicide mission of a Vecna plan, and pitches for them to gamble a stranger's life instead. he once again risks his life to hang out in the Creel house with Max, personally taking on the huge responsibility of making sure she doesn't die.

Vol 2 Max finally shows Lucas some long-awaited appreciation ("you might have been there" and "I'm glad you're here") which is very nice to see.

I'm conflicted about the movie invite scene, but we'll talk about that later. textually: he asks her out, she accepts, it's totes adorbs.

unfortunately, Max being tranced out by the time Jason walks in means it's time for Lucas once again to get attacked by an older, stronger guy who's wrongly convinced he's a danger to her. (again not her fault, but kinda because of her)

everything goes sideways, Max gets Vecna'd, and Lucas holds her while she dies. we end on a bruised Lucas sitting loyally at Max's bedside, reading to her just in case she can hear it inside her coma.

Lucas hasn't been perfect but he has spent yet another season physically protecting and emotionally supporting Max at great personal expense, and with little appreciation and no support in return.

. . .

the movie doodle didn't fix lumax

Max has had an epiphany, but a change of behavior has scarcely begun. being nice isn't the same as making amends. they've resolved zero of the old issues, plus 4 (even if the plan had worked) has heaped a ton of new shit on both of them.

she's still a grieving, neglected, depressed and passively suicidal child of a triply-broken home. dating doesn't fix that. they already broke up once under the same conditions.

plus Max has new catastrophic emotional traumas, some of which which explicitly exacerbate those very issues. she has catastrophic injuries and disability to cope with (and this is a girl who withdraws under stress normally). with a shred of realism, she's waking up in less a mood for dating than ever.

Lucas has also taken on new traumas, between the basketball team stuff, getting beaten up and almost shot/strangled, and watching Max get Vecna'd and die. he already has a history of guilt about not being there for her enough, so he's going to have a lot more about failing her in that moment (definitely not his fault but he'll still feel bad) and will likely be even more focused on her.

to me, this all sounds like a recipe for the same old dynamic except worse than ever. if they get sleeping beauty'd directly back into lumax, it'll be a disservice to both characters.

. . .

now let's talk about why Max treats Lucas the way she does 🔬

she's not a conniving bitch, she's just a scared kid from a toxic home. that doesn't excuse her behavior but it does make it understandable.

Max CAN be a great friend. she's just not to Lucas.

Max absolutely showers El with the good qualities she'll barely show Lucas. in fact I could loosely say Max is to El what Lucas is to Max.

Max is suspicious and disparaging towards Lucas, even while trusting that he can be counted upon to grovel. meanwhile El never apologizes for intentionally hurting Max both physically and emotionally, yet the moment El acknowledges her (only because she wants help), Max is instantly forgiving, kind, gentle, caring, generous and supportive towards her.

she throws her loyalty behind a friend of 1 afternoon over her boyfriend of a year who's been the only person in Hawkins to show her any true kindness and emotional connection.

if Max was half the friend to Lucas that she is to El, she'd be a decent girlfriend. why isn't she?

we can name a few reasons why Max IS so nice to El, but why she ISN'T to Lucas is a separate question. kindness isn't zero-sum.

she told us why. boyfriends lie.

and it's ANY boyfriend, not just hers. Nana's sick? more like Mike's a lying piece of shit! Suzie from camp? fake! Dustin's obviously lying! the only one of the boys Max has never accused of lying is Will - the only one who's been single the whole time.

just. the state of being a boyfriend (or even just liking a girl is close enough), makes any boy automatically a liar.

Max believes "friend" and "boyfriend" are mutually exclusive

"Friends don't lie!" "Yeah, well, boyfriends lie all the time." <- it's all right there.

back in 2 when Lucas was her friend, she was more open and trusting. she gave him the benefit of the doubt that monsters were real and he knew a girl with magic powers. starting to date flipped the switch, and now she doesn't trust him about mundane stuff.

now they're not friends, they're boyfriend/girlfriend, and she expects to be treated in a whole different way, including all the baggage that comes with romantic relationships in her mind.

what baggage?

Max's childhood is full of examples of awful, manipulative men and abusive, broken relationships.

her dad: I'd only be speculating about why her parents' marriage failed, but in 2 Max misses California because her dad is still there, then by 4 acts like it's doubtful he can even be tracked down for delivery of what's basically her suicide letter. it's clear she desired a relationship with her dad but was abandoned. Neil: abusive asshole who rules the household with an iron fist. I'd be shocked if he hasn't abused Susan, and see little reason he wouldn't do it in front of Max (after all, we see him verbally and physically abuse his first wife in front of his son, in a bad fight over suspected lies/infidelity). in his grief over Billy, Neil and Susan have "bad fights" and he leaves the family. he's not missed, but it's still a second abandonment by a father figure. Billy: Max's peer example of guys in relationships: a sleazy, two-faced asshole who treats girls like trash and completely changes his persona to manipulate them for sex or whatever else he wants (Max appears to be all too aware of his sex life and is disgusted). abandonment issues with him too: a good relationship with a big brother would've meant the world to her, but he rejected and probably abused her for years; her letter at his grave reads "ever since you left" - same word she used for Neil.

Max desperately hopes Lucas is an exception to the rule, but these are the behaviors she would naturally fear from any guy she dates.

Max is especially terrified of being abandoned (and that she deserves it)

to be abandoned over and over can naturally leave a kid wondering if it's their fault, if this is the treatment they deserve.

Lucas is overall quite honest, and there's not an abusive bone in his body. the most realistic one of Max's fears to apply to him is that someday he'll leave her, too.

and that's the worst fear Vecna chooses to voice in Lucas's form: realizing he's been wrong about her, that she's fundamentally bad and he's glad she's going to be killed. a gutting abandonment from the guy she most wants to trust.

Vecna-Susan also tells Max that she deserves what's going to happen to her, that she's "broken everything" and that her letters can't make things right. because he's in full Vecna mode when he says it, I just took those as very general condemnations at first. but they hurt even worse when I remember they're still coming from "Susan" - revealing that Max feels she has broken her family.

she wanted Billy to die, and she figures Neil left because Billy died, so that's two of the abandonments being "her fault". if that's true, Max would also feel responsible for destroying her mom's life - having cost her her marriage, home, and financial security.

in her addictions Susans has, in an emotional sense, abandoned Max just like all her other family members - and Max fears she deserves it. how desperate she was for this hug... :(

anyway, back to lumax: let's reexamine those s3 dumpings

what exactly did Lucas even do? we never find out.

on first watch, I took "boyfriends lie" at face value and assumed Lucas got caught fibbing. but that doesn't fit so well.

he's maybe the party member most invested in "friends don't lie". honesty to his friends is a pillar of his character. again, he caused friction in 2 because he so strongly prioritized honesty to Max. to assume based on one line from an unreliable narrator that he randomly became a huge liar over the summer is unfair.

via their counseling of Mike and El, Lucas and Max tell us what's been going on with lumax

Max tells El:

He'll come crawling back to you in no time, begging for forgiveness. I guarantee him and Lucas are totally wallowing in self-pity and misery right now like "ohh, I hope they take us back!"

I think we all clocked that one: Max thinks that because El followed her technique, Mike will come crawling back - because Lucas has come crawling back to her several times now.

but I haven't seen much discussion about how the spying scene (which "he'll come crawling back" is paired with) shows Lucas assuring Mike that he's been dumped for an unfair and illogical reason because that's what Max has done to him several times now.

M: I just don't understand what I did to deserve this. L: Nothing. Nothing. That's my whole point. You are the victim here. Stop asking rational questions. M: I know, I know, you're right. Because women act on emotion and not logic. L: Precisely. It's a totally different species.

Max is pissed. but has she been irrational, acting on emotion and not logic, and dumping him for no apparent reason all summer? signs point to yes.

and I understand Lucas saying this. it's not pure misogyny out of nowhere; he's been told that his mother expects gifts and apologies even when wrong, Max acts that way too, and now so apparently does El. all of his examples concur that this is just how women in relationships are. (Charles Sinclair how many relationships will your advice destroy lmao)

both Max and Lucas are bringing preconceptions from home.

Max acts this way on purpose

I don't think she's dumped him over truly nothing (although that's how it looks to him). I'm thinking she blows real, minor missteps out of proportion.

any time Lucas does something slightly insensitive, it looks like the first red flag to her, and instead of communicating in a constructive way, she just throws up this "boys aint shit" force field and dumps him. of course she doesn't truly want to be rid of him, she's just sorta snapping the leash.

I think Max knows what she's doing. I think she wants to keep Lucas always on his back foot, because the relationship isn't as scary if she feels like she holds all the power.

she's always trying to cover up fear/sorrow with anger, because anger gives an illusion of control. and she's been conscious of that anger, and the fact that it's unfair to Lucas, since the beginning - that's what she apologized for on the bus. "I guess I'm angry too, and I'm sorry."

she was mature enough at 13 to see the error in her behavior, but still not mature enough by 15 to fix it. every season has just been a slightly different flavor of "leave before you get left".

so, that's my take on Max's relationship behavior. but again, explanations aren't excuses. Lucas deserves to be treated well, and that's not happening.

what needs to happen?

simply maturing more will help them both a lot. being 15 is a terrible condition in of itself.

I don't see Lucas dumping Max's ass, but she should take her own advice before the relationship continues: explain herself and fix the garbage parts of her behavior.

before Max can be the girlfriend Lucas deserves, she needs a substantial period of physical and emotional healing.

she needs renewed connections with her friends and family, and a lot of general growth in the area of communication and processing her feelings.

in regards to Lucas, she needs to work on her trust issues, and learn to extend him the treatment warranted by his behavior, not the behavior she fears from others. she needs to learn that "friend" and "girlfriend" aren't mutually exclusive, that real friendship is the key to their relationship, and is a two-way street.

any Billy racism/assault acknowledgement would be better years late than never, especially if grieving Billy continues to be a focus in front of Lucas.

Lucas could also use a little work

the relentless positivity doesn't serve Max well. often it turns out to be empty reassurances which make her feel let down (so, a soft version of the lies she fears). she let him know in 4x4 that this hurts her, but he kept doing it for the rest of the season.

but the big one is that "happy wife happy life" doesn't serve him well, and rewarding unfair treatment perpetuates the problem. yes, the ability to compromise, swallow pride, and be the bigger person are healthy parts of a relationship, as well as the willingness to extend grace to your partner/friend when they're struggling. but it always being on one designated person is a recipe for dissatisfaction and resentment.

Lucas should voice to Max that he, too, has struggles and needs support. I'd like to see him pursue outside interests unapologetically.

no, this isn't an exhaustive list, and I don't expect to see everything fixed at once, or explicitly processed onscreen. but I sure hope we get some evidence of change, and that this has all been part of an arc.

for instance, I'd love for the final lumax reconciliation to be Max asking Lucas to take her back.

I kind of hope not to see them officially together until the very end. in fact I'd so much rather see ST end on a good Max / Lucas friendship with an implied romantic future than jump back to the status quo.

l don't want to see lumax until it's a new lumax, based on real, reciprocal friendship.

#even with the length I rambled this is still oversimplified and left out stuff re: both. but. just to get the conversation started.#you don't want elm*x because lucas. I don't want lumax because lucas. we are not the same #I think people fawn over lumax because they're kind of a milkvan foil and therefore must be perfect?#lowkey seeing lucas date someone else for a bit would straighten 4 max out. girlie careful acting like you're the only fish in the sea <3 #the more I think about it the more I'd like lumax to completely break up and live in different towns and then try again as adults #if the max waking up scene has a kiss in it I'm turning off the tv #lucas sinclair #max mayfield #lumax #givehimthemedicine analysis

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highinmiamiii · 4 months ago

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MONEY POWER GLORY

club owner!joe kessler x exotic dancer

A/N: this piece goes hand in hand with @billybutcherxyou / @foxiewrites and I’s DBF!Butcher series. best to be read alongside their most recent post, so make sure to check that out first. (cw: themes of manipulation, power dynamics, implied threats, and mentions of the adult entertainment industry.) NO USE OF Y/N

summary: Kessler, the sleazy owner of Club Kess, where petal works, dangles promises of fame and fortune, but his intentions are far from pure. Highlighting petal’s willingness to play his game, even as she’s fully aware of the dangers that come with it.

—————

She walks into the dimly lit office at the back of the club, the heavy bass from the music outside thrumming through the walls. Kessler, the club’s owner, sits behind an oversized mahogany desk, a fine Cuban cigar smoldering between his fingers. The air is thick with the scent of smoke and the faint tang of his expensive cologne. His eyes, sharp and calculating, follow her as she approaches, amusement flickering in them.

“Ah, there she is,” Kessler purrs, his voice smooth like honey with an underlying edge that makes your skin crawl if you listen too closely. He leans back in his chair, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he gestures for her to sit. “My favorite girl.”

She offers him a small, confident smile, though there’s a tightness in her chest she can’t quite shake. She’s been working for him for some time now, just barely making enough to have a little extra cash after repaying her father’s debts and getting out of every negative situation. Billy still couldn’t seem to get off her ass. She’s good at what she does, and she’s determined to be more than just another one of Kessler’s showgirls.

Once she had even the slightest taste of financial freedom to splurge on a cute top or take herself out to lunch somewhere nice, she’d never go back to her old life. Her life had been full of losses, wins, failures, and falls.

Kessler’s gaze never wavers as she takes her seat across from him, the leather chair creaking slightly under her weight. He exhales a long plume of smoke, watching her with that same calculated amusement, like a cat playing with a mouse.

“I’ve been watching you,” Kessler continues, his eyes narrowing as he takes a drag from his cigar, the smoke curling around his face like a serpent. “You’ve got something… special. A spark, if you will.”

“You’ve been doing good work, sweetheart,” he says, the endearment slipping from his lips like it’s second nature. His voice carries a certain weight, commanding attention, respect, and maybe even a little fear. “Better than most of the girls who walk through that door.”

Her smile widens just a fraction; the words hit their mark. She’s been craving validation like this—something to tell her that all the hours, the effort, the sacrifices are worth it. The faint praise settles into her bones, stoking the fire she keeps burning inside.

“Well, I aim to please,” she replies smoothly, her voice laced with just the right amount of sultriness. She knows how to play her part, knows what Kessler wants to hear. And she’s more than willing to give it to him if it means getting what she wants in return.

Kessler’s smirk deepens, his eyes glittering with something dark, something dangerous. “That’s why you’re my favorite, baby,” he purrs, leaning forward slightly, his gaze locking onto hers with predatory intensity. “You’ve got the looks, the talent, the drive. Everything a girl needs to make it big. And I’m gonna make sure you do.”

She feels a thrill of anticipation run through her at his words. She’s been chasing this dream for as long as she can remember—the idea of being more than just another face in the crowd, of standing out, of having everything she’s ever wanted. Money, power, glory. The trifecta that’s kept her going through every hardship, every setback.

“A-anything, Mr. Kessler,” she says, her voice almost a whisper, leaning in slightly as if she’s afraid to miss a single word. “Tell me what I need to do.”

Kessler’s smile is almost fatherly as he leans back in his chair, taking another drag from his cigar. He likes this part—the moment they’re fully under his spell, ready to do whatever it takes to make his promises come true. He’s seen it a hundred times before, but there’s something about her that makes it all the more satisfying.

“It’s simple, really,” he says, his tone almost conspiratorial. “You just keep doing what you’re doing, baby—keep turning heads, keep bringing in the crowds. Make them want more of you, make them crave you. And when the time is right, when you’re ready, we’ll take that next step.”

He pauses, letting the words sink in, watching as her eyes widen just a fraction, her breath catching slightly in her throat. He’s got her, and he knows it.

“What next step?” she asks, her voice hushed, almost afraid of the answer.

Kessler’s smirk returns, sharper this time. “Movies, baby. Real stardom. You’ve got a face for the camera, and I’m gonna make sure you get there. But you have to trust me, follow my lead. Do that, and you’ll have everything that pretty little heart o’ yours desires.”

She bites her lower lip, a move she knows he finds irresistible, playing into the moment. It’s all she’s ever wanted to hear—the promise of something more, something bigger than the life she’s been living. Dealing with her asshole of a father and his gambling debts, instead of living the life of a normal girl her age, she was working the pole at Club Kess. She’s come too far to turn back now, and Kessler knows that. He’s got her wrapped around his finger, and she can’t even bring herself to care.

“I trust you,” she says, the words coming out easily, as if they were always meant to be spoken. “I’m a big girl, I can take it,” she adds cheekily.

Kessler chuckles, a low, dark sound that sends a shiver down her spine. He reaches out, brushing a thumb across her cheek, the touch as possessive as it is comforting.

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs, his voice rich with satisfaction. “Stick with me, baby, and I’ll make sure the whole world knows your name.”

She feels her heart pound with a mix of fear and excitement. She’s heard the rumors, knows what happens to the girls who fall out of Kessler’s favor, but she’s convinced it won’t happen to her. She’s different. She has to be.

He leans forward, resting his elbows on the desk, his gaze locking onto hers with predatory intensity. “You want more than just the dance floor. You want to be a star.”

The word hangs in the air between them, heavy with unspoken promises. She can feel the pull, the allure of everything she’s ever wanted, dangling just out of reach. But there’s a part of her, the smart part, that knows there’s always a catch when someone like Kessler is involved.

“I do,” she admits, keeping her voice soft, almost vulnerable, knowing that’s what he’s looking for. “But I know it’s not easy. I’m willing to work for it.”

Kessler’s grin widens, and for a moment, she can see the wolf behind the businessman. “That’s what I like to hear, sweetheart,” he says, his tone oozing with false sincerity. “You’re different. I see big things in your future. Movies, magazine covers, hell, maybe even your own show one day.”

The flattery is relentless, and she finds herself nodding along, even as a small voice in the back of her mind tells her not to fall for it. But it’s hard not to, especially when he leans in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

The words are intoxicating, and for a moment, she lets herself believe them. But then Kessler’s gaze hardens, just for a split second, and she catches a glimpse of the man behind the mask—the one who’s willing to destroy anyone who doesn’t play by his rules.

“But remember,” he adds, his tone shifting to something colder, more menacing, “this business is tough. It chews up the weak and spits them out. You keep up your end of the bargain, and I’ll keep up mine. But cross me… and, well, I’m sure you know what happens to girls who get on my bad side.”

She forces herself to smile, to play along with his game. “I won’t disappoint you, I promise,” she says, her voice smooth as silk, hiding the unease coiling in her gut.

“Good girl,” he replies, the smirk returning as he leans back in his chair, satisfied. “Now, go out there and show them what you’re made of. Got big plans for you.”

She nods, offering him one last smile before she turns.

As she’s about to leave, Kessler’s voice cuts through the lingering haze of cigar smoke. “Actually—hold on a sec, baby,” he drawls, his tone smooth but with an edge that halts her in her tracks. She looks over her shoulder, raising an eyebrow in silent question.

Kessler reaches into his desk drawer and pulls out an old Polaroid camera, the kind that spits out instant photos with a soft mechanical whirr. He holds it up, a sly grin spreading across his face. “One more thing before you go. Gotta get a picture to go with the others, yeah? Keeps things personal, keeps us close.”

She hesitates for a moment, feeling a strange twist in her gut. This wasn’t part of the usual routine, but then again, Kessler always liked to blur the lines. “A Polaroid?” she asks, forcing a light tone, though she can’t keep the edge of suspicion out of her voice.

Kessler chuckles, but it’s a low, menacing sound that sends a shiver down her spine. “Just for the collection,” he says, as if that explains everything. “A little keepsake for me. Nothing to worry your pretty little head about.”

The unease deepens, but she can see the challenge in his eyes, the unspoken command. He wants her to trust him, to play along. And if she refuses, if she makes a scene, she knows what that might mean for her future here.

So, she swallows her discomfort and flashes him her best smile, the one she reserves for customers she’s trying to impress. “Of course, Mr. Kessler,” she says sweetly, stepping closer to the desk.

Kessler’s grin widens as he raises the camera, the lens glinting in the dim light. “Say cheese, darling.”

She hears the click, followed by the whir of the camera spitting out the photo. Kessler catches it before it hits the desk, holding it by the edges as the image slowly develops.

She forces herself to stay calm, to keep that practiced smile in place, even as Kessler’s gaze flicks between her and the photo with a predatory glint. “Beautiful,” he murmurs, more to himself than to her, before he slips the photo into his desk drawer, locking it away.

“Alright, baby,” he says, his tone returning to that of the smooth-talking club owner. “You go on now. Remember, I’m watching.”

She nods, mutters a soft “thank you,” and finally makes her exit, feeling the weight of his gaze on her until she’s out the door. As she steps back into the dimly lit hallway, the thumping bass from the club outside washing over her like a wave, she can’t shake the feeling that she’s just crossed some invisible line, one she might not be able to step back from.

But she pushes the thought aside. This is what she wanted—what she needed. If playing Kessler’s game was the price she had to pay for her shot at fame and fortune, then so be it. She’d play, and she’d win.

Because she knew one thing for sure: in this world, you either play the game or get played. And she wasn’t about to let herself become just another one of Kessler’s pawns.

216 notes · View notes

revehae · 11 months ago

Text

undone

pairing ↠ enemy!jeno x (f) reader

genre .. warnings ↠ smut, noncon, enemies au, unprotected sex, choking, smacking, degradation

summary ↠ ever since the two of you could walk, you and lee jeno have had it out for each other. you think that there's a chance he's finally matured and gotten over his inexplicable loathing for you, but when you encounter him after a football game, you finally learn the truth about why jeno doesn't like you.

wc ↠ 4.1k

a/n ↠ part 4/5 of the college-capades series!

don’t like it, don’t read.

just like any other friday night, you were prepared to go home, take a hot shower, and wind down with a video essay while munching on whatever snack you were currently fixated on.

guess what didn’t happen.

bitch, we should really go watch that football game tonight, your best friend said. it’ll be fun, she said.

though you desperately wanted to change out of the jeans that had grown uncomfortable after twelve hours of sporting them, your best friend, persuasive as ever, manipulated your sympathy with claims of all her other friends being busy and the most shiny, pleading eyes.

ultimately, you somehow agreed. your stubborn walls were broken when your best friend wanted something. you told her you would meet her there and hopped in your car, heaving a breath. curse you for being nice. to some people, anyways. sometimes you wished you hated her.

football games were just the last thing on your mind. three years of being a student at this university and you’d never come to a single game. it just wasn’t something you were interested in, especially when the star player was no other than lee jeno, your lifelong enemy.

the disdain you felt for jeno was inexplicable. ever since the sandbox, you just never got along. your family’s never understood the mutual reproach you had for each other and after a couple of dangerously unsuccessful attempts at a reconciliation throughout the years that almost ended with one or both of you in the hospital, they just accepted that you two didn’t like each other.

over the years though, it started to feel more and more one-sided. jeno didn’t go out of his way to get on your nerves anymore. but it makes sense, you thought. we’re grown. it’s a good thing he’s kind of mature. you didn’t disturb him either, rather going out of your way to avoid him whenever you could.

so tonight was just one big slap in the face. almost like it was the universe’s way of telling you to go fuck yourself.

and afterwards, you were positive that you would never be seen at one of these events ever again. sure, your campus football team was everything to brag about if you were a hardcore sports fan that gave a damn, but it was definitely not worth the girls loud cheers that irked your ears when jeno scored the winning touchdown. it was not worth the hollering when his team hoisted him into the air in celebration. that, or you just did not like to see jeno happy at times when you felt borderline miserable.

so three hours later, plus the time it took for you and your friend to do some mandatory socializing with familiar faces, you bid her goodbye and tried to locate your car. given that you were definitely not the first to show up and your school was pretty popular, you didn’t find an available park in the lot.

“hey, wait up,” came a way too familiar voice from behind you.

you barely turned your head, not really having to, but your brows furrowed. why on god’s green earth was lee jeno following you? and in a change of clothes too. jesus christ, i’ve been here way too long.

“not happening,” you hissed irritably. you just wanted to go home.

“fine, i’ll just follow you then.”

you ignored him, not thinking he would genuinely follow you but when you still heard footsteps when you planted your feet in front of your car, you realized you’d definitely underestimated jeno’s weirdness.

still not turning around, you searched your purse for your keys and asked, “you do realize how creepy this is, right?”

jeno shrugged, not that you could see. “well, your idea of a good idea is walking alone in the middle of the night. anybody far more creepy than me could take advantage of an off-guard woman digging around in her purse.”

you scoffed, “i was only digging for a second.”

“that’s all it takes.”

not wanting to admit that he was right, you spun on your heels and snapped, “what do you really want, jeno?”

jeno grinned. “to talk.”

“to talk?”

“yeah,” jeno said, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “i mean, first, i couldn’t let you walk by yourself. just in case somebody got to you.” somebody other than me.

you droned, “oh, wow. i guess i should be so grateful a big, strong guy like lee jeno followed me to my car. should i say ‘thanks?’”

“it wouldn’t hurt.”

“go fuck yourself,” you retorted.

jeno threw his hands up in defense. “like i said, i just wanted to talk.”

you rolled your eyes. god, you couldn’t believe you were entertaining this guy’s bullshit when you could be on the way home already. even better, you could run him over with your car. “jeno, i don’t like you. we have nothing to discuss.”

ignoring your balking, jeno continued, “i couldn’t help but notice your resting bitch face while watching the game.”

your voice was dripping with the bitter taste of irony, “wow, a stadium full of girls and you noticed me? i could almost faint.”

jeno snickered. “you’re funny.”

something is definitely up, you couldn’t help but assume. this was the longest conversation you’d had with jeno in… ever.

jeno crept closer, asking, “did you like the game?”

“my resting bitch face doesn’t speak volumes?”

“oh, it certainly does,” jeno said with a chuckle. “but i wanted to hear it from your mouth.”

you leaned against your car, folding your arms. “if you want approval so badly, go find one of your screaming fangirls that are just dying to meet you. i’m sure you’d get tons of attention. maybe even a blowjob or two.”

jeno cocked a brow, but that sly fucking grin never vanished from his lips. pretty as they were. “jealous much?”

you looked like you wanted to gag and dry-heave all over the place. “oh, honey, please. i just think it’s… dramatic. bleeding my ears out because lee jeno sweated a ton and got his pants dirty - woo hoo! what will he do next?”

“sports are an art form. you wouldn’t get it…”

you cut him off with a wince, “oh, god. you sound exactly like the type of guy i do not want to piss off at a bar.”

jeno took that in stride, changing the topic, “do you have any plans for tonight?”

you spat, “why do you care?”

jeno shrugged his shoulders, almost like he was absolutely clueless. “just curious.”

“even if i do,” you started, exasperated. you had plans with your bed, if the sleepy haze in your eyes said nothing. “that’s none of your business because i hate you and you hate me. remember?”

“you hate me,” jeno corrected, stepping so close he was now directly in front of you. “i let that go in high school.”

you were quick to retort, “right, after you found out what a vagina was.”

jeno finally started to break, nearly closing the gap between your bodies. “you’re so mouthy, you know that?”

you swallowed, damping your throat. he towered over you a little. never in a million years did you want to show jeno any fear, though you weren’t certain of what was going on. “jeno, what are you doing?”

jeno ignored you. again. “holding onto resentment from when we were fucking kids just because you want to be a stubborn little bitch. do you even know why you hate me?”

you blinked. you were beyond confused.

“i heard you fucked mark. and jaemin. oh, and haechan,” jeno snarled, extending a hand down to your ass. “all on the football team.”

“that’s none of your goddamn business,” you hissed, trying to pry his hand away from you.

jeno snickered. that was bizarre and the most hilarious thing you’d said tonight. “babe, it’s the football team. it’s everybody’s goddamn business. word gets passed around quick through us. clearly, so do you.”

you recoiled, affronted. though you tried to wrestle from jeno’s arms, he was infinitely stronger than you, and that seemed to please him because he wasn’t finished.

“do you plan on sleeping with the entire team - is that it?” jeno pressed. “johnny’s gonna make it big one day. are you going to get him to get you pregnant? live off an nfl player’s child support checks?”

you shoved at his chest, but he wouldn’t budge. “are you actually this mad that i don’t want to sleep with you?”

“get in the car,” jeno hissed.

you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. “what?”

irritated, jeno opened your car door and forced you into the backseat none too gently. you whimpered in pain, having hit your head on the roof, and jeno clambered in the back with you, shutting the door behind himself. you didn’t even get the chance to sit back up before he unceremoniously threw your purse somewhere in the front.

now, you were officially beginning to panic. you never thought he would go this far. fear seeped into your bloodstream as your self-preservation instincts kicked in, and you swung your legs, successfully kicking jeno in the groin.

you tried to open the door on your end while he grimaced in pain, but you were too slow, jeno dragging you back towards him by your legs and holding tightly onto them. he went to unbutton them, grumbling, “god, i can’t fucking stand you.”

“jeno, stop. i said stop!” you exclaimed, eyes widening. “i’ll tell your parents!”

“don’t tell me you really think my parents will believe you over me,” jeno scoffed at how ridiculous that statement sounded, just before mocking, “i hate you and you hate me. remember?”

“then, i’ll tell mine,” you snapped.

“so like you to run and tattle to mommy and daddy,” he sighed, now reaching for your panties. “all that will do is start a family vendetta. now, is that really what you want, babe?”

you frowned. it was like he planned this.

jeno wholeheartedly intended to show you who was the boss, barking, “answer me, bitch.”

“fuck you.”

obviously, jeno didn’t like that, grabbing your keys and smacking you across the nose with them. you groaned, wincing your eyes closed.

“i said, answer me,” jeno growled.

you stood your ground. “and i said ‘fuck you.’”

he slapped your keys against your nose again. your hands flew to your face, a hiss slipping out of your mouth when you touched your nose. though it felt broken, you knew that it was most likely just bruised. you fought the oncoming threat of tears, never letting them reveal themself as anything more than a shimmer in your eyes.

“you might want to reconsider. or else you’ll probably have to ask daddy to buy you a new nose,” jeno warned. “now, like i said, is that what you want?”

you shook your head.

“with your mouth. i’m not afraid to bruise that lip, either.”

“no,” you cried out, fire in your tone.

jeno smirked. “there you go. was that so hard, babe?”

“yes,” you muttered.

jeno laughed, tickled. almost like something was funny. your panties were now thrown aside and you sucked in vicious breath when his finger landed on your pussy, trying to remain strong. you knew that he wanted to see you fall apart. that was just something he always wanted.

but this was something more than that. it was darker than pushing you to the dirt at a playground or bumping into you too harshly in a hallway. this was brutal tenfold.

“i would never tell them anything,” jeno said, referring to his team, you assumed. he pushed his fingers up your cunt, much to your dismay. “nobody deserves to know. you’re all for me. just for me.”

knowing that his teammates obviously kissed and told made it harder for you to resist the tears you desperately wanted to let fall, because you felt so violated in so many different ways, but you didn’t succumb to the sting. you could take it. you would have to.

“i’m not yours. i never, ever, will be yours,” you said with an alarming amount of vitriol.

jeno pinched the inside of your thigh, making you jolt. “yes, you are. i fucking own you right now. you’re going to do whatever i want. my fucking toy.”

before you could even get any spiteful words out of your mouth, jeno slipped a hand up your shirt and pinched his fingers around your nipples, making you holler a sharp cry. you didn’t understand why he was acting so mean all of the sudden, though you guessed he’d just gotten better at repressing his reproach for you and stifling the need to inflict torment on you.

never in your life had you ever felt so helpless before. jeno was trying to break your resolve and you couldn’t let him, but with every blow to your willpower, he was getting closer and closer to winning. for a second, it occurred to you that that was all this ever was, and all he ever cared about. being able to say that you lost and he won.

and he really had you convinced for a second that maybe he wasn’t so terrible of a guy anymore.

jeno tugged at his pants and you started to fret, trying to crawl away, but to no avail. you should have never came here. you should have stood your ground and went home like you wanted, because you didn’t want this.

“calm down. you’ve had dick in you before,” jeno chided, removing his underwear next.

this was the first time in your life you’d ever been truly scared of jeno. any other day, no matter the situation, you’d faced him bravely. but this was beyond your expertise. “jeno, please. please don’t do this. i’m begging you!”

jeno snorted in amusement. he almost couldn’t believe that you were begging him for mercy. you, of all people. he knew there was more vulnerability where that came from and he was hell-bent on breaking it out of you.

the tears were finally trickling down, hot and thick as they dampened your cheeks. “please,” you whimpered, hating how desperate you sounded. “if you let me go, i won’t tell anyone, i promise.”

“that’s cute,” jeno chirped. “not really tempting, but cute.”

you slumped in defeat. there was no getting to him. he was dead-set on sweet revenge for whatever perceived wrongdoings of yours that had wounded his poor, fragile ego.

all jeno could think about was how hard he was, watching your bottom lip tremble and your figure paralyze with fear. he’d seen you cry a few times in his lifetime, mainly because of him and when you were younger, but this was the first time he’d seen genuine fear glimmer in those eyes of yours. and he was addicted to it already. you always tried to convince the universe that you were tougher than you really were, and he’d always been determined to uncover the weak, fragile girl you truly were. to show you that he was infinitely stronger than you.

it happened in a blink. jeno pounced on you, lining his dick up at your cunt, whispering in your ear that he was going to fucking destroy you. you sobbed harder when he finally pushed inside, deep. the burn of the stretch was agonizing and you were inclined to scream, but you in no way wanted to give jeno that pleasure.

“fuck. you should’ve never been such a goddamn cunt,” jeno hissed, sinking his fingers into your hips, fueled by the noises of anguish that parted your lips. “now i’ve gotta put you in your place.”

“asshole,” you said through gritted teeth.

jeno grabbed your hair roughly, swallowing the little whine that escaped you, and stared into your glistening eyes. he could see the hatred smoldering in them, but most importantly of all, he could see how weak he thought you were and thought it was nothing short of pathetic. “baby, you don’t even know how pitiful you look. i’d shut my mouth if i were you.”

you didn’t want to know. you could feel your mascara running down your face, already realizing that your makeup was ruined, but that was the last thing on your mind when jeno was forcing himself into you.

your pussy was so warm and tight around his cock, he couldn’t help but want to shove himself deeper and deeper. the fact that he was a making a mess out of you only turned him on even more, he wanted to engrave the image into his memory indefinitely, and he considered taking pictures just to save it but that would’ve been too incriminating.

he thought many despicable things about you, but you weren’t worth his future. matter of fact, you weren’t worth anything to jeno. not a dime or a spare nickel and the way he fucked you said that loud and clear.

jeno ranted, “this is all your fault, you know. you’re just so damn delicate and breakable.”

“you will never break me,” you barked, though your voice was weighed down by your grief.

jeno burst into laughter and the sound was physically sickening. “hate to break it to you, babe, but i already have.”

you couldn’t bare to look into his eyes anymore, casting your gaze anywhere else.

“wasn’t that hard,” jeno continued nonchalantly. “should’ve done it sooner. i mean, you might have got away if you weren’t such a mouthy little slut that needs to have the last word all the time. hiding your weakness under all those - fuck - witty remarks, but i’ve always seen who you really are. fragile.”

you shook your head. his words were ripping you open and you hated it with every fiber of your being. you didn’t want to cave. “no, i’m not!”

“yes, you are,” he snapped. “you’re a fragile little whore that talks a big game but can’t take what she deserves. admit it.”

“no,” you exclaimed.

jeno wrapped a hand around your throat, firm and strong and everything in between, and your eyes went wide when he impaired your ability to exhale. your hands went to his, trying to pry him off of your throat, but you would never be stronger than him. never be strong enough to fight back. “admit it, if you want to breathe.”

the room started to reel. maybe it was all the hits you’d taken, all of his aggression that you’d accidentally elicited, that made it even more unbearable than the lack of oxygen causing the lightheadness, but there was a fleeting second where you couldn’t feel, where it felt unreal and dream-like, and you detached yourself from the moment so jarringly that the pain dissipated. and then that second was over, and reality seemed to hit you tenfold.

his hands felt tighter around your throat. his body felt weightier on top of yours. his breath was louder than it seemed before, and the flickering heat of loathing torched by his irises burned hard enough that you couldn’t even cry if you wanted to. it was just a silent agony. a cry of distress with parted lips, but no sound.

and when the lights felt like they were flickering, even though in reality there were almost none at all, just a distant street light stationed some feet away from your car, you accepted that you lacked the arsenal and power to win this battle, croaking with the last of your strength, “i… admit it.”

jeno’s grip on your throat slackened, though he didn’t let go. “you admit what?”

“i’m weak,” you confessed in a whisper, throat sore from his brutal touch. you wondered to yourself if he had crushed something or if the pain just felt more intensified in the moment. “i can’t hack it.”

“you never could,” jeno added, finally releasing your throat.

finally, you could breathe again, but your next breath was the most painful of your entire life.

when jeno spread your legs apart a little more, uncomfortably so, you whined, but you noticeably lacked the backbone to fight it. you just took what he had to spare, lying against the leather seat as the metal seat belt marked your skin and jeno’s body rocked you back against it from his movements. it was the least hurtful thing you were feeling.

mustering one last breath of fight, you whispered with all the venom you could summon, “i hate your guts.”

“i’m kind of loving yours right now,” jeno quipped, slapping your cunt as if to emphasize that statement.

every second started to bleed into each other, no more or less excruciating than the last. you gave up on fighting. no matter how hard you tried, it only resulted in jeno taking advantage of your weakness, smacking you across the face or dragging his nails across your skin. you knew your body was covered in marks, you could feel the ache, prickling everywhere.

“fuck, i’m gonna cum,” jeno hissed, running his hands up your shirt.

that much was obvious. his movements, though they had never not been careless, grew more erratic and rhythmless. quicker, shallower, even, but harder.

you set your fingers at his biceps, begging, “jeno, please don’t cum inside me.”

jeno scoffed. “of course not. you don’t deserve that much of me.”

all that you could do was sigh. as if you wanted to be pregnant with his baby anyways. you physically recoiled at the thought.

jeno pulled out of your cunt, and you were relieved for a second, until he rotated you until your face was towards his cock and instructed, “open.”

parting your lips, you sucked his cock into your mouth, knowing you would regret it if you didn’t. you already felt broken enough. if you weren’t careful, he might’ve fucked around and killed you. hell, he almost did.

“you’re so much prettier when you’re being a good girl instead of running that useless mouth,” jeno commented.

grabbing a fistful of your hair, jeno controlled your movements, using your mouth until he came in your mouth, grunting, “swallow.”

you tried your best, you really did, but you didn’t think he would cum so much, and so hard. there was an unsparing smack of his hips against your face as he fucked your throat until, at last, he came with a ravenous growl. you couldn’t help what slipped out of your mouth and drizzled down your chin, onto the leather seat. your leather seat.

still, jeno didn’t let go, roughly lowering your head to the seat. “eat my fucking cum.”

there was no way in hell that you wanted to, your stomach churned at the mere thought of doing such a despicable thing although you had practically swallowed most of his cum already, but it felt physically degrading to lick his cum off the seat of your own fucking car. his hold didn’t slacken until every spot was gone, and you slumped backwards onto the chair, facing the roof.

there was a kind of emptiness scraping your chest that was like nothing you had ever felt before. it was despair, yes, but to such an extent that it felt like nothing. and then it was so much of nothing that it throbbed and ached right there in your heart, and mind. probably your soul too. your entire being felt frozen, rigid. so cold that it burned.

this is what it meant to be broken, you would’ve thought, if you could think. though since you could not, all you really did was lie there, a misty haze in your soulless eyes as your hands were slumped at your sides. had not your chest been heaving like raging waters, jeno would’ve thought you weren’t even alive.

and really, truly, you guessed that was what he wanted. he didn’t want you dead, not literally, maybe. but to make you feel so deprived of everything that gave you dignity that life itself was lifeless.

“i think i’ll take these,” jeno said, holding up your panties to the air like they were a flag of some kind. “you know, as my reward.” for breaking you.

you said nothing. after everything else he had just taken from you, ripped from your very hands like it was nothing, you couldn’t be bothered to care about something so replaceable. you wanted your pride back. you wanted your dignity back. but he stripped you bare of everything, all of your strength and will, all of the fire inside your body that kept you alive.

he would never know what that felt like. in the time that he spent making a point, you’d lost your sense of self and direction.

and jeno just slipped back on his clothes like nothing ever happened, sneaking away like a thief in the night, without a goodbye as he left you there to fend for yourself in the chaos that he’d created.

and he did it all with a satisfied smile on his face.

#lee jeno smut #nct dream smut #jeno smut #nct dream hard hours #nct smut #nct hard hours #tw: noncon #revehae fics

826 notes · View notes

i-yap · 7 months ago

Note

Hey, love your writing!

I was wondering what it would be like with Jason and reader who is also a hero/vigilante meta. What would their dynamic be? I love the idea of them working/fighting together maybe even retiring together.

Sorry I'm a little late in posting, Meetings and big girl jobs blah blah

Jason x vigilante!s/o

I always shipped Jason with civillian s/o so I can either see him with a healing powers or "softer" power's hero , A scientific genius or someone who really just wants to retire too but feels like they have no out.

If you are out there fighting, He is worried, almost unbearingly so. The only person in the batfam I can see with vigilante s/o is dick I'm sorry. Jason is very protective. Too protective for someone who constantly puts themselves in danger so It just wont work. They will keep interrupting your work, His stress levels will be higher and your frustration will drive you insane.

Now if you had softer powers( helping with growing plants, manipulating emotions, healing, talking to animals, telepathy ) and weren't directly in the line of fire..he acts like your guard dog. Example- if you have healing powers he wont let people misuse your kindness and keep making you use your powers to heal even small injuries even though it exhausts you. He will be brick wall between you and whoever dares to even think about exploiting you. And when you do retire, you do it to use your powers to directly benefit the civilians rather than just being a tool for the leagues.

If you are scientific genius, its like the brain and the brawn and it s adorable. Sure jason is argues he is both the brain and the brawn to which you reply "Well I'm the charming personality and the winning smile" and he really cant argue with that. He loves how smart you are and calls you his little nerd ( even though he is equally nerdy but he is more literature smart I feel) He also gets to test out your brand new inventions ( fun guns) to which he gets excited like a kid on Christmas. He wont let you overwork yourself and constantly remind you to take days off to spend with him( don't worry he gives plenty incentives) He is also the biggest distraction ever. You guys may retire to teach in university( JASON AS LITERATURE PROFESSOR AGENDA FOREVER) and become the professors in love( the students ship)

This isnt exactly what you asked but these are just my thoughts tbh. Im sorry I just cant see jason with a full on fighter s/o ...man deserves soft domestic loving and a little peace and quiet in his life.

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reveluving · 2 months ago

Text

anything and everything ; paddy feld x reader x max

summary: it’s them and their girl against the fucking world.

warnings: s~mut obv (minors DNI!), Max & Paddy in general (if you've seen the movies, you know how they are. but! they're pretty tame here), minor character death (deserved; horrible ex + cheating but it's okay, you win in the end) including minor mentions of blood & breaking bones type of violence, Paddy & Max would do anything for you.

a/n: ta-da!! you don't know how excited I was to write this. had to rewrite a few things but I was too into the idea, I didn't mind kdlsajk and mind you, it's EXTRA nasty in this one, so, keep that in mind! please enjoy, take care & don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

» wanna know what I have in store this fall? come & check out this year's 'reve's quirky reverie' m.list! 🕷️'!

» smut includes: mildly DARK fic! mm4f, size kink, lovestruck & possessive (slightly mean) doms!paddy & max, shy-esque mc, ‘baby’ & ‘pretty girl’ as petnames, dirty talking, facesitting/oral s~ex (both f & m receiving, clothed(?) too), spit & tit play, marking, spanking, brief mentions of blood play (doesn’t happen), brief mentions of age gap (legal & consenting!!), teasing & mentions of punishment, did I mention possessive paddy & max yet?

'And it all came down to that very moment, in the middle of nowhere past two in the morning.' ;

Paddy’s fingers thrummed along the shape of the steering wheel, subtly displaying his excitement even at such an hour. The music coming from the radio was partially his saving grace from the fairly long drive but the anticipation of what was to come expelled any form of restlessness in his body.

The road he took practically didn’t exist on the map, but he had no problem navigating his destination the deeper he went into the woods, not when he had taken the route many times for the past couple of months for this very moment.

Slowly yet surely, he spotted a familiar car, the headlights remaining on were enough for Paddy to see a man overlooking something before him. He knew his landlord long enough to recognize the large, taller frame in the distance. He spotted the bundle of clothes by his feet, along with the rocks of different sizes next to it, and Paddy knew he had begun.

Good thing, too, for it was mere hours before your alarm would go off, and they wanted to be by your side as soon as you opened your pretty eyes.

Without wasting any time, Paddy turned the engine of his car off before exiting the vehicle, sauntering over to his good friend—your other partner—and standing next to him.

“Took you long enough.” Max scoffed, though largely jesting to get under Paddy’s skin.

“She slept later than usual.” Paddy explained, one corner of his lips quirking at the memory of mere hours ago, of him snuggling you against him, lulling you to sleep with kisses and pats before quietly leaving the unit once he was confident you were truly out like a light.

“She couldn’t sleep?” Max glanced at his friend, a hint of worry in his rich voice, to which Paddy shook his head.

“She’s just excited for tomorrow.”

Ah, Halloween.

Max hummed in understanding, then cut the conversation, or at least, the subject short. As much as he’d love to ask how you were doing, he and Paddy had business to take care of, and the ‘business’ in question stood right in the trench before them.

Chad, or really, they’d just prefer to call him ‘your ex’, stood naked in the ditch, shivering and battered from Max’s need to pour his frustration out on him an hour prior—remembering all the stories you’d tell them of how he had the gall to swoop in and take you from them, even if you weren’t theirs yet.

It was one thing to steal you from them, but it was another to treat you like you were worth less than cheap dirt. Manipulating you into thinking his mistreatments were just you ‘being a big baby’ or accusing you of how ‘possessive’ you were when he would ‘just casually talk’ to other women when you found the bravery to break up with him a year ago.

But were they really surprised by a pompous man, no, boy, with dodgy secrets? Spending his old money on pointless luxuries and meeting up with low lives behind his old girlfriends’ backs, including yours. It was a good thing you were out of the relationship earlier than his previous exes, but fuck, if Paddy and Max didn’t want to gouge his eyes out for even mistreating you in the first place.

They could never forget the tears in your eyes and on your cheek when you stopped by, reassuring them with a wobbly smile that you had ended the relationship, but not without seeing the man’s true colours by berating you for leaving him.

But that was in the past. The months that came after were nothing but bliss, for you and them. You didn’t think Paddy nor Max were open to the idea—the three of you—but you were proven wrong. You should’ve expected it, though, with how Paddy and Max were more or less alike, including but not limited to their ‘innocent’ flirting with you before it all went down.

But it wasn’t just the relationship that had them in high spirits.

It wasn’t hard to find his information online—the sucker was as terrible as an ‘influencer’ nowadays, and it was even easier to air his secrets out, destroying relationships including with his own family and even transferring most of his savings to shelters because why the hell not.

At one point, Max couldn’t resist taking a video of the poor guy borderline begging the lady he cheated with when you were still together at their usual meeting spot at a bar.

He and Paddy had the time of their lives watching the embarrassing scene, even anonymously sharing it on his hacked account before days later, Paddy tampered with the same woman’s drink enough for her to overdose and successfully framed your ex ‘as revenge for public humiliation’.

Yes, the past few months were priceless, to say the least.

But they never spent the whole time ruining the man’s life all the time, no, they had a beloved to take care of. The time to ruin lives could come whenever they pleased, but not precious moments with you.

Besides, wasn’t it more entertaining to drag out one’s victim’s despair just a little longer? The reactions to their downfall mattered, after all.

And it all came down to that very moment, in the middle of nowhere past two in the morning.

“Doesn't look like he's got a lot of fight in ‘em.” Paddy snorted.

“Good.” Max replied, short but well-pleased.

“Hey, man…” Chad croaked, and Max and Paddy immediately grimaced, “I didn't think she meant that much to you…. Honest…”

The two rolled their eyes in annoyance.

“At least think of a better lie, kid,” Max sighed, “‘s'not like we'd let you go if you did.”

Paddy huffed, amused at the truth in his words. If anything, they'd be doing the world a favour, removing a little parasite—yours, theirs, his ‘friends’ and exes, and hell, even his family—all while getting to call you theirs.

But, it was satisfying to see the pathetic sod being, well, pathetic. A way better look on him than the infuriatingly cocky façade he'd put up around others for whatever the hell he was leering for then.

“I’m not..! I–C'mon, I didn't even lay a hand on her–” Chad reasoned weakly, only to further set them off.

“You better pray you fucking didn't.” Paddy snarled. He and Max knew he didn't, but it didn't ease their anger any less because, at the end of the day, he still manipulated you in some way, using a few tricks to make you seem like you were the ‘overthinking’ one even if it didn't entirely work.

At the end of the day, he did you harm.

“Alright, y'got anything else to say, kid?” Max leaned his weight on one leg, adjusting the black gloves he had been wearing since he dragged the guy in the middle of nowhere. Paddy, too, put on his gloves as he turned around, all while eyeing the rocks.

“Wait, wait, wait—” Chad spoke in urgency, his teeth chattering from the chilly air, “I can pay up! I won’t tell anybody shit about this–”

“No, you won’t,” Max agreed as he interjected, honestly not wanting to listen to him anymore, “Not especially her name out of your mouth.”

Against his better judgement, Chad had the gall to shout at the mere mention of you.

“Her?” He yelled, his annoyance picking back when Max brought your name up multiple times during this whole thing, “Why the fuck does she matter to you that much anywa–”

Crunch.

Chad's head whipped to the side as the sizable rock Paddy threw landed at his temple, the sound horrific but satisfying to the two.

“Easy,” Max drawled, swiftly picking up a rock and inspecting it, “No fun in killing him already.”

“You wanna listen to him talk ‘bout her like that?” Paddy grunted, chest rising and falling at the audacity of a man who was on the brink of death.

“Oh, don't get me wrong. I'm pissed,” Max replied coolly, hiding his temper behind nonchalance. He felt the weight of the rock he held before eyeing Chad with a dangerous look, “But the head? Pat, come on, we made it this far. Play around with him a little.”

Paddy didn't have the time to reply as Max held the rock above him before throwing it, aiming right at Chad's leg with almost the same, if not, a nastier sound of impact than when Paddy threw it.

Chad yowled, falling to the ground before groaning in sheer pain. He could only sob on the ground, specks of dirt already in his eyes and mouth.

“See?” Max smiled cruelly, “Make him feel it, just like she had to.”

Just speaking of it riled him up just as it did to Paddy. They wanted to finally, finally get it rid of him, sure, but there was no harm in having fun with it just a little longer. They'd clean up the mess anyway, might as well say their final goodbyes to the son of a bitch for good.

“Yeah… Yeah, alright.” Paddy mirrored his friend's cold-blooded contentment, picking up another rock, this time, hoping to break any parts of his bones without instantly killing him just yet.

And just like that, Chad wished for his ultimate death as they prolonged his torture.

You, back in Paddy’s unit, were none the wiser, slowly waking up from your deep sleep. You turned, anticipating Paddy upon opening your bleary eyes, only to blink at the sight of Max, watching you with a warm smile as he lay on his side.

“Good morning, beautiful.” He greeted, bringing his hand to your face and caressing your cheek.

“G'morning…” You murmured with a shy smile, hiding one side of your face in the pillow.

“Oh, no, don't do that now,” Max chuckled, “Don't hide that pretty face from me.”

Even half asleep, he could make you giggle first thing in the morning.

“How'd you sleep?” He asked, his voice almost enough to lull you back to sleep.

“Good,” You responded, unaware of their little escapade hours ago. You yawned, “You?”

“Like a baby,” He grinned, causing your heart to flutter. In reality, he hadn't had a wink of sleep since he and Paddy drove back home, but the adrenaline of putting the bastard down gave him more than enough energy to see you, “Come here.”

Max gently led you to his lap, encouraging you to straddle his hips while resting your head on his chest, “Atta girl.”

You couldn't resist relaxing in his arms, not when he was so warm and comfortable, and he didn't want you to do so either, kissing the crown of your head while his hands slid up and down your sides.

But you knew Max long enough to know his touches didn't always stay innocent as his hands roamed lower and lower and lower before reaching the hem of your nightdress.

You eyed him suspiciously, “Max…”

He just hummed, leaning in to kiss your temple and cheek, “That's me.”

You huffed at his wits, only for your eyes to flutter shut as his hands roamed under the fabric, “Max, c'mon, I just woke up…”

You were a little worried about your morning breath and how you looked from just waking up, but he was having none of it.

“Can't hear you.” He drawled lowly against your skin, pulling you closer so he could latch his lips onto your neck. You jolted at the feeling of Max's palms gripping and kneading your ass, your body only growing tauter when a third hand slid up the curve of your back.

“Starting without me, pretty girl?” Paddy cooed, leaning in to kiss your cheek, the other side that Max hadn't touched yet.

“Paddy…” You whimpered, and as soon as you turned your head to look at him, briefly noticing he was shirtless, he slotted his lips against yours, the fingers of his other hand brushing along your neck before descending to your clothed breasts.

The haziness in your mind grew more than when you woke up, feeling pairs of lips and hands mark your body with vigour.

Max sat up, forcing you and Paddy to break the kiss as he slid the straps of your dress down your shoulders.

Paddy took a seat on the edge of the mattress, kissing your shoulder from behind, feeling his spine-chilling groans reverberating against your back.

And with two sick minds thinking alike, images of you covered in your ex’s blood in between them fueled their uncontrollable desires. Too bad every last drop of it had to be drained for obvious reasons. But it wouldn't hurt to imagine what could've been every once in a while.

So long the deed was done.

Good riddance, bitch.

Paddy pulled at your tits between his fingers, the same time Max nipped at the space between your neck and shoulder, leaving the barest hint of mark that begged to be darker.

More long-lasting, prominent for the world to see.

“How ‘bout it, baby? Think you can for a quick round before we let you go?” Max asked. They could've convinced you to stay in bed longer if not for the candies you had promised to buy before the last minute in the afternoon for trick-or-treaters tonight.

“We'll take good care of you.” Paddy added, as they always did.

You pleaded with the two with a look that was to die for and it wouldn't take long for them to act upon your request, leaving you in your pretty undies, almost tearing off your sleepwear when they removed the pesky article.

Max was eager to lay on his back, encouraging you to move back a little and position your ass just above his face, making you face Paddy, whose pants were off, teasing you by fondling his prominent tent with a smug smile.

You weren't sure whether to focus on him or Max’s cock standing tall each time you looked down, awaiting your soft lips and its careful licks.

You jumped at Max’s playful slaps and massages of your ass, prompting Paddy to coo as he neared until his shins touched the bed.

“Playin’ a lil’ rough, isn’t he, baby?” He cradled your jaw, almost condescendingly mimicking your parted lips as Max licked you through the flimsy panties. He gently led your head by the chin to his bulge and sighed in contentment, “Yeah, that’s my good girl.”

“My good girl.” Max grunted, biting his lips upon moving your panties to the side before licking a big stripe along your pussylips like a man starved, even more so when he couldn’t help but spank you three more consecutive times, downright suffocating himself when trapped your thighs around his head.

“Max…” You cried into Paddy’s tented pants, nuzzling him like it would calm Max down, but they couldn’t blame you, knowing your mind was already mush.

You could already imagine the familiar beard burns decorating your inner thighs.

Paddy pouted, “Baby, ‘m’feeling a lil’ lonely,” Brushing your bottom lip with his thumb, he stared at your through lidded eyes, “You know what t’do, yeah?”

You did, you always did.

Keeping your eyes on him, you mouthed along the girth of him, leaving little trails of drool because ‘there is nothing sexier than our sweet girl making a mess out of them’. Their words, not yours.

Giving a low growl, he slid his sweatpants down for you, “That’s it.”

He didn’t bother putting on boxers, already anticipating such ‘morning routine’ if he and Max were going to make it until the evening before they could get their hands on you again.

Of course, that didn’t mean they’d play nice behind closed doors when the trick-or-treaters weren’t around.

His pants dropped to the floor with a soft thud, his hard cock ached for you if the subtle twitches were anything to go by.

But Max, still eating you out and practically leaving marks on your behind, shoved his tongue into you just a tad deeper, reminding you that he, too, needed you.

You could only let a little glob of drool drip onto Max’s cock, then slowly wrapped your fingers around it before sliding your hand down to the base. Paddy clenched his jaw, greedy for the same treatment when Max bucked into your hand. He loosened just a tad bit when you finally leaned in, taking a small, cautious lick at the tip of him.

Somehow, somehow, Max knew your teasing behaviour and brought his palm down on your already sensitive rear. You weren’t sure how he wasn’t begging for air at this point the more your thighs tightened around him—if only you knew how much he wouldn’t mind dying that way.

Paddy tutted in disapproval, gently tapping his cock on your cheek, “Not very nice of you.”

“Think she deserves a little punishment?” Max spoke against your cunt, spreading your cheeks and downright spitting at your hole.

“I’m sure she can handle a few,” Paddy responded, eyes rolling back when you moaned around him the more he pushed himself into your mouth. He continued through gritted teeth, “And then, we’ll give her everything. Just like she deserves.”

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

» a/n: this was initially a standalone fic for Max but then I was like mmm OMG what about with Max and Negan but then... I also wanted to write for Paddy, so... yeah ;; gorgeous divider by @firefly-graphics ♡

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deathworlders-of-e24 · 2 months ago

Text

Thomas, Engineer

Part 3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You know I could have guessed it, but you guys are way better at this than me,” Thomas said, running a hand through his curly brown hair.

“That is only natural, as our programming and design allow for rapid reflex and dexterous manipulation of our extremities,” Sixer said.

Thomas had invited the Padrino back to his quarters for an impromptu fighting game tournament. Sixer and Mace both attended, as well as one of the Galley named Odis, another of the engineers, and of course Roomba was there, though he was having difficulty handling the controller since it was about as big as he was.

Odis and Roomba had already been knocked out, the Galley by elimination and Roomba by… technical knockout, so it was just Thomas and Sixer left. Mace had winner.

“I refuse to lose, especially not while I’m wearing my lucky shirt,” Thomas said. Odis snorted, but the Padrino spun their heads to face him.

“Human Thomas, please explain how the apparel you are wearing will enhance your performance in this competition,” Mace asked, his synthetic voice as unchanging as always.

“Does the apparel provide some sort of stimulant to your body that will change the outcome of this match?” Sixer accused.

“No, nothing like that, it’s just lucky,” Thomas said.

“Please explain,” Mace pressed.

“Gimme a sec, round three is starting, I got this,” Thomas assured himself.

The game was human designed, an indie title called Galactic Brawl! It was your typical fighting game, but it was making the rounds on Earth due to it using characters similar to GAIL member species locked in mortal combat. The humans had assured the intergalactic market that it wasn’t in anyway meant to be detrimental to universal relationships, but to expose humans to other species in a fun and interesting way that younger humans would enjoy. Plus it made the other species look ‘very cool’, which the GAIL members were assured was a good thing.

The players were 1 win a piece, so this would be the tie breaker. Naturally the players had chosen their own race for the game, something Odis and Thomas thought was quite funny, although the characters were caricatures of the real thing. Very buffed up, with bigger action hero muscles and such.

Buttons were mashed, triggers were pulled, combos were pulled off, and Sixer had him on the ropes. But then Thomas got the BRAWL POWER meter all the way up and executed his ultimate move flawlessly, and came out with the win.

“Yes! I told you, lucky shirt!” Thomas cheered, Odis laughed so hard he fell over, and the Padrino sat there looking as dumbfounded as they could without actual faces.

“Please explain,” they said in unison.

“The shirt?” Thomas pulled the hem of the shirt down so they all could see its glory, a ratty old gray Tee with the sleeves cut off. It had smudged names all over both the front and back. “I got it at this punk concert right before I went into the academy, got all the band members to sign it for me after the show! Good show, too, they came into the crowd while they were still playing, and…”

“Easy, humy, just tell us why the shirt is lucky,” Odis said, tossing back some chips.

“Right, yeah. So I wore this shirt for every test, quiz, and exam I ever got during my training, aced all of them with flying colors. Scored me both a guy’s and a girl’s number on the same day, that was cool, and I was wearing it when I applied for my post on the Noah,” Thomas explained. “Bad things do not happen when I’m wearing the lucky shirt.”

“Yeah, they’re not gonna get that,” Odis said smirking.

“Human Thomas, explain this luck phenomenon,” Sixer requested.

“See?” Odis said. “The humans have this thing, they call it ‘being superstitious’, it’s something the humies believe controls the universe.”

“Explain,” requested Mace.

“Okay, so there’s, like, good luck, where good things will happen if you have it, or bad luck, where bad things happen,” Thomas said, trying to explain. “Think of it this way. It’s like little random acts turn out in your favor if you have good luck, like finding money on the ground or it’s pizza day in the cafeteria.”

“And bad luck breaks your mom’s back or something, right?” asked Odis, laughing.

“Yeah, if you step on a crack in the road or something,” Thomas said. “Or breaking a mirror gets your seven years bad luck.”

“You humies believe the most ridiculous things,” Odis said.

“There are acts that can accumulate negative impacts to your existence?” Mace asked.

“Totally man, tons of them. Like last week, I was having lunch in the mess hall, spilled salt everywhere!”

“And this entails what?” Sixer asked.

“Well it’s supposed to invite enmity and future problems, but I threw some over my left shoulder, so it was fine.”

“You humans are so gullible,” Odis said. “This is why we came to earth so often to mess with you.”

“Tell that to the shirt man,” Thomas said.

“So the garment has… accumulated ‘good luck’, therefore you remain in a sustained field of positive chaos,” Sixer said.

“I guess, yeah,” Thomas said. He’d never heard it described that way before, it was probably the most scientifically accurate portrayal of ‘luck’ he’d ever heard.

“You two are not gonna make sense of this, it’s an illogical belief from a less evolved lifeform,” Odis said. “Next thing you know, the kid is going to tell you he doesn’t walk under ladders or let black cats cross his path.”

“First off, I love all cats,” Thomas said indignantly, “secondly, how do you know so much about earth superstitions?”

“Earth movies. You think you can keep the Galley in the dark? We’ve been sneaking onto Earth for generations.”

“Riiight,” Thomas said.

“Beep.”

[Reminder: engineering staff are to head to the WARP core at 1900 hours for new maintenance procedures]

“Oh, man, is it that time already? We better head out,” Thomas said, zipping up his jumpsuit over his lucky shirt. “Thanks Roomba, I totally forgot the time.”

“Beep.”

[Acknowledgments: you’re welcome]

“Smarter every day, good for you buddy. Alright, come on guys, let’s get to the core before Chief Nivan sticks us on plumbing duty,” Thomas clapped his hands together, ushering everyone out of the room.

“Human Thomas, if we may make a request, may we continue to observe you? This ‘lucky shirt’ phenomenon may lead to some observational data previously unknown to us,” Sixer said.

“Sure guys, whatever you need.”

“You’re not gonna get any data,” Odis chided. “The kid is just going to confuse you both.”

“Regardless, we will continue to observe,” Mace said.

The group made their way to the lifts, Odis still grumbling about how stupid the idea of a lucky shirt was, lucky anything really, the whole time. Thomas tried to explain, saying there were tons of lucky objects on Earth, like the rabbit’s foot.

“You mutilate another lifeform for its appendage just to positively charge your own chaos?” Mace asked, surprised.

“That seems counterproductive to what you have described as Karma,” Sixer said.

“Yeah, that wasn’t great, admittedly. Ancient Earthlings weren’t great at critical thinking yet. These days we have synthetic feet, so that doesn’t happen anymore, I don’t think. I got one on my keys, see?” Thomas pulled a key ring out of his pocket and showed off the foot.

“Double luck today,” he said, smiling.

“Fascinating,” the Padrino said in unison.

“Weird,” said Odis.

“Beep.”

[Request: game pad, please?]

Thomas stuffed his keys back in place and pulled the pad out, giving it to the tiny droid on his bag. Roomba had recently started a new game, having earned the highest score possible on PAC-MAN a few cycles previously. Now he’d moved on to Galaga, another port Thomas had made.

“Beep.”

[Information available]

“Hmm?” Thomas looked at Roomba in his bag.

“Beep.”

[Statement: this new game is stimulating]

“Oh my god you’re so freaking cute Roomba,”Thomas gushed. The little droid was getting smarter by the day thanks to the cognitive upgrade the Padrino had given him. He was ‘talking’ in more complex sentences and could ask for more stuff as he wanted it, Thomas was overjoyed!

They stepped off the lift onto the Core deck, where the fuel was stored, as well as where the WARP core was kept. The thing always looked like a captured star to Thomas, suspended in the air by antigravity struts, a shining ball of orange and red fire behind the dozen or so walls of safety fields keeping the room from being vaporized. Chief engineer Nivan was already waiting for them, pouring over a data pad with another maintenance officer. The room itself was vast, lit by the core, at least the size of the cargo bay on the other side of the ship. Rows of control consoles lined the walls, as well as data screens and input terminals.

Thomas dropped his bag by the door and put Roomba on his shoulder where the little robot looped himself around the cord the human had sown into his jumpsuit for the little guy. Roomba muted the game pad but continued playing.

“Hey chief,” Thomas called out. “We’re here for that briefing on the new core terminal procedures like you asked.”

“Yes, thank you Human Thomas,” Nivan said, two of his four spindly arms waving in acknowledgment. Chief Nivan was a Zilont, whose species had no actual set amount of limbs. Some had 2 arms and legs like humans, some had up to 8 of each. Nivan himself had 4 arms, 3 legs, and his torso moved and bent around like rubber, since he had no spine. The species moved via a series of gas bladders, reminding Thomas of this uncomfortable movie he’d seen where a clown made a person out of balloon tubes. But Chief Nivan was an upstanding guy in his opinion, never pushed work onto his subordinates and tried to be as helpful around the engineering deck as possible. Thomas thought he was a cool boss to work for.

“Lets get started”, Nivan said.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chief Nivan got them working, showing them how the new terminals worked, and how to input commands into the core controls in case of emergencies. The Padrino picked it up while he was explaining it, but Odis and Thomas needed a demonstration. Thomas watched as Nivan’s odd balloon-esque tentacle limbs punched in commands, taking note of each key he hit.

“Got it?” Nivan asked. Thomas sometimes had a hard time gauging his emotions, what with the beak and all, but he thought the Zilont looked a little tired.

“I think so, yeah. You okay Chief?” Thomas asked. “Need me to grab you some salt water or something?”

“No, thank you Human Thomas. We’re getting run ragged down here. Odds and ends keep disappearing, tools and spare parts, and just yesterday somebody claimed they had their locker ransacked.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes, and the maintenance crew is already out of sorts. This is just adding fuel to the-”

The entire room shook violently.

Chief Nivan was cut off by a series of small electrical explosions from the wall of terminals behind him, throwing him a ways away. Thomas threw his arms up to shield his face, making sure to cover Roomba as well. The floor beneath their feet rocked, the entire ship seemingly to jerk several meters to the side. The lights blew out, raining sparks down around the crews working in the core room. Over a fourth of the crew in there were thrown to the side or into a wall at the sudden shift. The walls groaned and creaked at the rapid change, and Thomas saw something that stopped his blood cold. The safety fields holding back the core’s fire were flickering off one by one.

“EVERYONE OUT RIGHT NOW!!!” Thomas yelled, rushing to Nivan. He grabbed two of his four arms and started hauling him towards the door.

“Twins! What the hell happened?!” He questioned, looking to the two Padrino.

“Ships systems registered a local star released a wave of energetic ions creating a solar storm. Detecting multiple failed systems, including-”

“THE CORE YEAH I KNOW!” Thomas cut him off. “We have to get the hell outta here now! Is anyone else in here?”

“Multiple life signs detected. In approximately 3 minutes the last containment field will fail and the core will vaporize everything in this room.”

Thomas set Nivan down outside the safety doors.

“Okay, Mace, you call them out! Sixer, Odis, and I will go get them. MOVE!” Thomas ordered while he rushed up and over one of the hanging walkways. Odis didn’t have time to argue with him, Mace was in the doorway and Sixer was already on the move as well.

“SQUAL!” Odis yelled before getting in gear. Thomas didn’t need a translator for that one. Odis was Galley, and they were generally self centered. Not today.

Thomas must’ve moved 6 crew out of the core room in those first 2 minutes. He saw a third Padrino in the door now, a new unit he hadn’t met yet, talking to Mace and trying to contain the core. Thomas didn’t stop. Whether they bought more time or not, he wasn’t about to leave this room while anyone was still in it, not while time was still on the clock.

Finally the three minutes were almost up. The safety field was down to its last wall. Only a thin blue screen of light stood between them and obliteration. Thomas grabbed the last crewman on his side, a Zilgrat about half his size and started running back towards the door. From what Mace had said, it was just the space ferret and that should be it. Thomas looked over at the others.

Odis’s foot was caught in the railing.

The crewman he’d been sent to get had been thrown down to Sixer who was rushing him outside.

“There are only seconds left, Human Thomas! We must seal the door immediately.”

Thomas looked from the door to Odis.

He ran to the door.

Dropped the Zilgrat at the robot’s feet.

And sprinted towards the Galley.

His lungs hurt. His muscles ached. It was getting hot in the room, each layer missing from the security wall allowing more heat to escape containment.

Thomas jumped up the stairs to Odis.

“Sorry man!” He said as he grabbed the little gray alien’s leg and yanked. The foot dislodged with a sick crunch and Odis howled, high pitched and clutched at his leg.

Thomas had been counting. No time left. The Galley man didn’t weigh much.

Damn.

He really wanted to keep playing games with these guys.

Thomas took Roomba from his shoulder and shoved the little droid into the Galley’s chest before hurling them both over the railing towards the safety of the blast doors. He actually threw them so far and so hard they struck Mace and forced the whole bunch out into the hall.

“SHUT THE DOORS NOW!” Thomas ordered. The Padrino unit he hadn’t met yet, and now probably wouldn’t, hit the release, and the doors slammed shut as the last field lost power.

Thomas threw himself behind a console as vaporized plasma filled the room. The temperature must’ve leapt by several hundred degrees…

For about 3 seconds.

Then the safety fields sprung back to life, holding back the fire. Thomas sucked in oxygen as the ship’s automatic air filters kicked in, sucking the heat out of the room. Emergency coolers clicked on, rapidly suppressing the temperature fluctuations. His skin hurt, and he caught a vague whiff of burning hair.

The console he’d hid behind seemed to shield him from the sheer worst of it, but Thomas would be very glad to get to Med Bay in the next few minutes. Everything burned. Finally shock and lack of clean oxygen let him pass out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thomas awoke to the sound of Odis and the Padrino… were they yelling?

“I’m telling you,” Odis was saying to someone in a nurse uniform, “if you cut that shirt off him, I will personally teach you how the Galley get even…”

Shirt? What shirt?

Ohhhh.

Thomas started laughing softly, on his bed in the med bay, covered in burn gel.

“I told you guys…” he said hoarsely, “it’s a lucky shirt.”

“Kid!” Odis was standing next to him, leg in a cast. “Kid what the hell were you thinking? Why didn’t you just leave??!”

“Human Thomas, we are please you have not expired,” Sixer said.

“Agreed,” Mace said.

“Thanks guys,” Thomas coughed. “Sorry about the leg, dude, there wasn’t time…”

“My leg? Kid you just got cooked and you’re worried about my leg?” Odis looked at him in disbelief. “You humies are so freaking weird, you should’ve just left me there.”

“Nah… I had that. It’s my lucky day, remember?”

Roomba was sitting on the side table next to his bed. He was holding the game pad, but it wasn’t on.

“Beep.”

[Information Request]

“What’s up buddy? You okay? Sorry I threw you,” Thomas said.

“Beep.”

[Is your unit going to be repaired?]

“Yeah buddy, I’ll be okay. Just got a little too hot in there for a second.”

“Beep.”

[Statement: Unit Thomas is required to be repaired, or ability to complete task {hang out together} will be incomplete]

“Yeah, I love you too buddy,” Thomas said.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A quick 2 cycle stint in a regen-pod got Thomas back on his feet and the worst of his burns treated, though he was significantly more tan than he was before. He’d had a short meeting with the captain and first officer, both of whom said something to the effect of ‘what is it with you humans, throwing yourselves into danger?’

He was on his way to the Padrino now, they’d taken Roomba and his main translator for repairs, and to see if they could finally retrace that weird signal he’d heard the other cycle. Since he was told by both the doctors and Odis to focus or rest and recovery, he’d agreed to them babysitting. The spare device in his ear was itchy. He’d be happy to have his back.

When the lift opened, there was Odis the Galley. His cast had been replaced with a prosthetic boot. Thomas stepped in. The doors closed and Odis cleared his throat.

“Listen kid,” the little gray alien started, “that was a real decent thing you did back there the other cycle.”

Thomas looked down at him and shrugged.

“I’m not gonna say it wasn’t a big deal,” Thomas said, “I definitely thought I was gonna die in there. It just didn’t need to be all of us, is all.”

Thomas rummaged around in his pocket and pulled out his keys. He slid the rabbits foot off the ring and held it out to the Galley.

“Here. I think we both need some luck on this ship right now. Have it.”

Odis looked from him to the foot.

“…you sure kid? Didn’t that thing save your life?” Odis said, his usual smirk coming back a little.

“Nah, the shirt saved my life. Plus I feel like I owe you a foot, yeah?”

Odis laughed, shoulders shaking. He took the rabbits foot and stuck it in his pocket.

“Lucky severed animal feet huh? You humies are such deathworlders it’s not even funny.”

“Then why are you laughing, close encounters?”

The lift erupted in laughing fits from the both of them as they made their way down to engineering.

On the engineering deck, the Padrino, along with the small unit known as Roomba, watched the pair leave the lift.

“The human should have expired in the core room,” said Sixer.

“Agreed,” said Mace.

“But he did not,” said Sixer.

“A good thing, yes,” said Mace.

“Beep.”

[Statement: agreed, this is a good thing. New observations can be made now. And new games can be played still]

“Agreed,” said the Padrino in unison.

#deathworlders of e24 #humans are deathworlders #humans are space oddities #humans are space orcs #humans are strange #humans are space australians #humans are weird #earth is space australia #humans are insane #humans are terrifying #humans are cute #humans are space fae

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wu-sisyphus-gang · 2 months ago

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War of the Roses wedding day:

Jaune: *serves Weiss and Ruby a slice of cake*

Jaune: Bam cakes done. It’s conquered.

Weiss: Not quite. Ready Ruby?

Ruby: Bombs away.

*Weiss and Ruby pick up their slices and mush it into Jaune’s face*

Jaune: *smiling through the frosting*

Jaune: Really? Are you two serious? Grow up.

Weiss: *laughs* You would do the same to us. You told us you would.

Ruby: Your exact words were ‘I think that would be adorable. Give me some of that.’ So we planned on this. If we’re going to get smeared we might as well deserve it. Don’t you think?

Jaune: *picks up a slice in his hands* You’re going to get exactly what you deserve. This is what’s comin’ to ya.

Jaune: Ruby… Come here won’t you?

Ruby: *Giggles and twists away* No!

Jaune: You have to trust me. What’s the matter? You don’t trust me?

Ruby: Not at all. No! Stay away from me!

Jaune: Come here. Come on. You have to trust me. Remember your vows. You gotta. Come here sweetheart.

Weiss: *rolls her eyes and steps forward*

Weiss: I’ll bite. Do not get any on my dress.

Jaune: *very delicately places the slice in her mouth*

Weiss: *licks frosting off her lips*

Weiss: You asshole. You’re literally the worst.

Jaune: *picks up another slice*

Jaune: Come here Ruby. Nice and slow like.

Ruby: *shoots Weiss a glance but steps up*

Jaune: *puts most of the cake in her mouth but gets a little frosting on her nose*

Ruby: *licks off the frosting laughs and wipes her nose*

Ruby: Now I feel bad.

Weiss: Don’t feel bad Ruby. That’s how he gets you. That’s how he wins.

Jaune: I got what I wanted. I mushed cake into your faces and got to see some tongue action. Fuck yes. That’s all I wanted. That’s what I said would be adorable. You girls always take things too far and abuse me. You only get one shot at feeding your spouse wedding cake and you two blew it. I barely got any in my mouth at all. That’s your fault. You have to hold that.

Ruby: You butt. You manipulated us!

Jaune: Did I though?

Weiss: Don’t get drawn in Ruby. This is how he makes his money. This is how he makes the big bucks. He gets to be all sweet on us but if he had had his shot he would have smeared you. Make no mistake.

Jaune: That’s impossible to prove, darling. And I resent the accusation.

Ruby: But he was a honey to us and we mushed him. Oh! You frustrate me. Even when we plan things in advance we still lose. How does that work?

Weiss: I’m telling you Ruby this is how he wins. He acts all sweet and makes us look bad. Classic shock tactics.

Weiss: *folds her arms and gives a huff*

Weiss: You’re such an asshole. How is it possible you made it somehow worse than if you smeared me in frosting. How did you do that?

Jaune: You did all the work. I’m going to get a second plate for me to eat.

Ruby: *whines* Give me a second try to feed it to you.

Weiss: Would it make you feel better if he did? If he sits there and gives you a second shot you don’t think it would make you feel worse. He’ll do it too. He’ll sit there and give you a take two with a grin on his face. He’ll do it. On gods he’ll do it. Look at him smirk! You really want a second try?

Ruby: I don’t know!

Jaune: Well while you two are figuring it out I’m going have me some cake.

Ruby: *bounces in place* You butthead. Ugh.

Jaune: I defy you to tell me exactly what I did wrong.

Weiss: *nods slowly* You know what you did. You can act like you don’t know but we all know you know what you did.

Jaune: Again difficult to prove. Isn’t it. And still I defy you to tell me what exactly I did besides be nice to both of you. And I’m still the bad guy?

Ruby: It’s because you were so nice!

Weiss: You are the bad guy! How did you do that? I don’t know how you pulled that off. You’re so conniving.

Ruby: I got it. Jaune you have to mush my face.

Weiss: He’s not going to…

Ruby: You told me I was going to get what I deserved. I deserve to be mushed.

Jaune: I did say that. And I gave it to you. I gave you exactly what you had coming to you. I could never smear you. It would break my poor little heart. I couldn’t handle it.

Weiss: Don’t you see Ruby? He wanted to frustrate us. That’s what he meant. We walked right into it. Checkmate in one move.

Jaune: This cake is delicious. Is this what you two had?

Ruby: Mush me!

Jaune: Open up.

Ruby: *steps forward and opens her mouth*

Jaune: *delicately places cake in her open mouth*

Ruby: You butthead. You mushed me even less the second time. You made it worse!

Weiss: There’s no way out Ruby. Give up.

Ruby: I demand you mush me.

Jaune: I could never. I love ya too much. I couldn’t. Not ever. Not even if ya begged me. Not to my little sweetheart. I couldn’t do it.

Ruby: Fine! You win or whatever!

Jaune: Win what?

Weiss: Dumb blonde. You know what. Don’t play dumb. At least own up to it. Don’t act like you don’t know. It’s unbecoming.

Jaune: I don’t know what you girls are so upset about. Can’t figure it out for the life of me. You know how I am with women. The ladyfolk as it were. I’m just a ‘dumb blonde.’ Gosh this cake is so good. Chocolate and vanilla?! What a winning combination! Who came up with that?

Ruby: You do too! You’re such a liar!

Jaune: A good thing honesty wasn’t in my vows. Convenient.

Weiss: So clever and conniving! Why did I marry you?

Jaune: Something something hard work. Something something obsessive in a good way. Something something push one another.

Weiss: Asshole.

#rwby #rwby incorrect quotes #jaune arc #weiss schnee #ruby rose #lancaster #whiteknight #whiterose #white rose #white knight #war of the roses #motion sickness

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cyb-by-lang · 2 months ago

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Cascade

Someone a while ago asked me about what Kei's school life in Shell Game would've been like if she was a kid in 1-A as opposed to 1-C, so here's some noodlin'.

(Kei replaces Mineta's slot because I don't feel like dealing with him.)

The facet of being a UA student that bothered Kei the most (immediately) was the scrutiny. The celebrity. The total inability to fold herself and her flat expression and sleep deprivation back into the comforting anonymity of a world without widespread cell phone usage. Every other rando in Japan—arguably the world—knew the school’s reputation and its uniform. The more invested enthusiasts knew the names and faces of all the hero kids in each year and ranked them based on their apparent promise. Kei’s entire being retreated from the spotlight as though possessed by a cockroach.

The runner-up of annoyances was being trapped in high school again. She’d done her time one life ago and resented that the experience just pigeonholed her into bilingual missions now. But explaining that to Sensei wasn’t on the table, so away she went.

In the end, though, there was a small silver lining, as thin as cobweb. Unlike general education students, the two heroics-focused classes had occasional permission to use their Quirks to achieve their goals. Such as winning a sports contest between students, but still. It was something.

“Gekkō. Your turn.”

Kei jolted back to life like the engine of a forty-year-old car, covering her mouth with one hand as she yawned. Sure, Bakugō’s big boom ball throw had startled her awake, but she’d slept like total garbage last night. The stress from anticipating a new development in any mission made staying asleep an impossibility.

So she’d kind of sleepwalked through the first few rounds of fitness tests. A lot of the other students’ Quirks didn’t help with their performances—exemplified by the invisible girl and the boy with electric powers—and so Kei didn’t meaningfully stand out. It helped that the students with physical Quirks usually really excelled at very specific tasks, but were dead average elsewhere. Kei barely needed to work to keep in the middle of the pack, only using her water manipulation for effect.

And now everyone was looking at her.

Dammit, Kei thought. She rolled to her feet with a little huff and made her way off the sideline with the air of a two-toed sloth dragged out for a quirky sports movie.

“Do you need a reminder of what the rules are?” Aizawa asked, his voice as dead as Kei sort of wished she could be in this exact moment.

“No, Aizawa-sensei,” Kei replied as she passed him. An instant later, she caught the tracker-equipped softball without looking, thought it had been thrown at her head. Not like it would have done any damage even if it made contact.

“Then quit wasting our time.”

Kei didn’t even remember her placement during the UA entrance exam, but this still felt targeted. The numbers didn’t matter. She’d already known she was in, so the only consideration left was keeping the extent of her powers under wraps.

It wasn’t like Kei didn’t get why Aizawa “Eraserhead” Shōta hated her presence in the class. Her enrollment in UA was basically anathema to the entire purpose of the program. Sensei and the principal couldn’t just cut the guy entirely out of the loop without causing Kei logistical problems when it came to doing her job. At the very least, an uninformed teacher might ask questions when Kei inevitably ran out of the classroom to deal with some crisis. Just because Aizawa looked like he wouldn’t care if his students fell down an open manhole cover, but that was the trouble with judging by appearances alone.

I could take over the moment it leaves your hands.

Be my guest.

Kei tossed the ball in the air, clapped her hands together, and summoned a blob of water that expanded in sync with her hands as she pulled them apart. When the falling softball landed amid the watermelon-sized sphere, it warped briefly into an image of Isobu’s curled-up shell before stabilizing. That was a telltale sign even to people without worthwhile chakra detection abilities—as long as they knew.

So, basically Aizawa. Kei didn’t need to look in his direction to feel his glare.

There we are. Isobu’s power reached forward to engulf the brand new source of ammunition.

Then the blob, the captive softball, and some simulacrum of Kei’s dreams shot off into the void. Only the thinnest possible thread of water connected Isobu’s new toy to Kei’s index fingers. Kei and the a couple of her classmates watched its erratic balloon-like course until, inevitably, the thread snapped.

Eventually, there was a beep from Aizawa’s phone. “Five hundred and fifteen meters.”

Kei rubbed at her eyes, already done with the entire affair. At least this data might be useful for Kei and Isobu’s future adventures in mass hydrokinesis. Perhaps Isobu’s range would be even larger if they added more of his chakra. Running those experiments would have to wait for another day, though.

“Next,” said Aizawa. Going by the way a couple of students jumped, the next contestant was already on deck and suffering from stage fright.

Kei wandered out of the chalk with barely any uptick in energy levels. She even yawned again. If the teacher wanted her out of the way faster, he could damn well throw her out.

But because this mission clearly wanted to establish the kind of pattern embodied by a combat deployment—boredom followed by intense spikes of activity, and then more boredom—Kei didn’t get a chance to nap. She found herself blinking away the drowsiness to the sound of Aizawa verbally ripping a kid to shreds.

And it wasn’t Kei’s fault. Or even related to her.

Novel.

While Kei had sat down and read brief profiles on all of her classmates on the Saturday before the term started, their names occasionally slipped her mind despite how painfully on-the-nose they could be. She’d get that data into her head later; for now, all Kei needed was a list of powers.

Part of the reason Midoriya (today’s sacrifice) stuck out to her was how his name didn’t contain even a hint of his Quirk—just like hers didn’t. Because she didn’t have one. Going off the logic displayed by his classmates’ parents and their naming choices, Midoriya’s personal name should have had something to do with turning his own skeleton into dust.

With his capture weapon and hair floating like the entire scene was underwater, Aizawa laid out everything wrong with the nervous kid’s approach to the ball toss. Given that the test in question was literally throwing a softball and this kid tended to hover around the middle of the pack, maybe he’d been planning to use his hyper-destructive Quirk to finally get an edge. Like any kid sitting through someone else getting shouted at by a teacher, Kei pretended not to hear the specifics.

It was still sort of difficult not to, even with her classmates trying to build a small reservoir of side chatter to insulate themselves.

There was a lot in Aizawa’s lecture about “basic competence” and paraphrased warnings about not breaking all the bones in his body. Because, well, someone who did that would probably need to be carried off a battlefield on a stretcher if not in a body bag.

“With your power,” Aizawa was saying, his voice as flat and cold as an executioner’s blade, “you can’t become a hero.”

Midoriya’s expression said he knew damn well what was at stake now. If he couldn’t figure out how to throw a ball without laying himself out flat, he was screwed.

The real question was if breaking bones was the prerequisite to accessing that monstrous strength, or just a shitty side effect of having no control? If it was the former, the first time the kid fell off a jungle gym or crashed his bike should have made the news along with a crater.

While the other students consulted among themselves whether they’d ever heard of Eraserhead before—which disengaged Kei even further from the conversation in favor of naptime—Aizawa withdrew from the chalk circle to let Midoriya figure his shit out. He’d either fly or fucking die.

Aizawa probably didn’t care which. At least, not out loud. Better that this catastrophic failure happened in school and not in the field with lives on the line.

Kei shaded her eyes and awaited some conclusive result.

Midoriya didn’t disappoint; one colossal BANG later, the softball was rocketing off into the distance with a smoke trail marking its trajectory. But unlike the utter travesty that characterized his entrance exam footage, the kid that turned to face the group did so with all limbs intact. He’d destroyed only one finger in the process of setting off his Quirk this time.

Kei frowned while the other students cheered. Aizawa, too, looked excited to find improvement so close on the heels of his first sharp criticism.

Sure, Blasty McSplode had a problem with Midoriya’s (qualified and still bone-breaky) success and then needed to be wrestled into submission for being a loud jackass literally a foot in front of the teacher, but that wasn’t Kei’s problem. Or, at least, his attitude wasn’t an interesting problem for Kei to puzzle over.

Midoriya’s, though… There’s something wrong here.

Hm?

I don’t think his Quirk requires him to destroy himself to use it. If it did, he should’ve figured out how to minimize the damage way before he got here. Kei pressed her curled fingers against her lower lip as she thought. Damn, I usually just shrug off questions like this…

But this secret may affect your risk assessment process when dealing with all of these humans.

Maybe. But hell if it’s not a personal question. “Hey, what’s the deal with your Quirk totally pulverizing your vulnerable teenage skeleton every time I’ve seen it used?” That’ll go over well.

“Gekkō,” said Aizawa, interrupting Kei’s thoughts with more school nonsense. He’d apparently picked her out as a zoned-out straggler. “Finish your tests. Side-hops and grip test, go.”

Kei sighed internally and trotted off to a different part of the field.

#shell game #cascade #snippet #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #catch your breath fanfic #crossover #keisuke gekko #isobu

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tteokdoroki · 2 years ago

Note

no cus isagi being slightly crazy and saying the most absurd things to the men who approach you is like weirdly attractive…

૮ ͈>◡< ͈ა warnings — please read + mdni ! characters aged up to 20s, suggestive, sleazy men, manipulation kinda, threats of violence LMAOO, possessive + pro player!isagi, fem!reader.

god,, it’s so fucking hot…

the idea of isagi always protectively looming over you, always around and a little too close when a guy approaches you. you think it’s normal, that he’s just looking out for you because men can be assholes or gross but really he’s just as outlandish as all the rest — perhaps worse and it’s just never been directed at you.

you’ll be out in public, making googly eyes at a guy who’s ordered the same coffee as you, swearing on your life that you feel some sort of connection like it’s a meet cute or something. but isagi is possessive, telling you he’ll watch your stuff with his sweet smile and big innocent blue eyes when you head to the bathroom one moment and in the next he’s damn near snarling at the guy, saying stuff like “you look at her like that again, and i’ll shove this coffee so far down your throat that you’ll never know what it’s like to breathe again.” he’s so unwell, so unhinged but he can’t stand the thought of someone else having you the way he does.

when you’re out clubbing or celebrating a win with the blue lock team — they’re all probably teasing isagi about keeping an eye on you, wondering who he’ll stop you from going home with tonight and placing their bets on the poor soul that dares to touch you. and it’s not that isagi blames anyone, you’re beautiful and enchanting and the sway of your hips under colourful flashing lights is enough to make a man weak in the knees.

but he still has this innate need to shield you from other guys because you don’t know what they’re like and you need him to protect you. “your hands are a little too low, don’t you think?” isagi all but smiles after sneaking up on the guy you’re dancing with — nausea bubbling in the pit of his stomach from watching you grind on one another. “they fall an inch lower ‘nd i might have to rip them off, yeah?” he breathes out the threats like they’re air, and smiles like he’s said nothing wrong.

and when the poor guy slips away from you out of fear, isagi is quick to replace his warmth behind you. “you probably don’t wanna dance with dudes like that, they’re good for nothing, yanno?” he says softly when you spin around, soothing the flame of disappointment that licks at your heart. but you trust him, isagi has never lead you astray and has done all he can to protect your beating heart — he’s always been a little too good to you. “i don’t want you to get hurt.”

it’s fascinating how charming and kind isagi is around you, but when it comes to the men that show up to your doorstep with roses and good intentions — he becomes off putting, unpleasant and scary. he wouldn’t be able to count on one hand how many potential dates he’s had to tell to “fuck off.” or “back off.” before he threatens them with a whirlwind of pain and hospital bills.

though, all of it is worth it, for the way you curl into him and offer yoichi up the pieces of your precious broken heart, stroking his ego without even knowing ( you drunkenly tell him “i wish you would date me ‘ichi, you’re a good guy…” ). and he is, he’s good for you, perfect even — but nice guys don’t take advantage of girls that cry their hearts out.

he’ll wait a few more days to make you his, only then will all of isagi’s efforts have paid off.

#blue lock x reader #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi yoichi x you #isagi x reader #isagi x you #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing #tteokdoroki #✧ ₊˚✉️੭ — new notification #✧ ₊˚💬੭ — unknown messenger

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anthurak · 8 months ago

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So here’s an interesting little detail I noticed while rewatching some of the Beacon arc:

Out of all the various disposable pawns, patsies and stooges we’ve seen utilized by Salem over the course of the show (not counting the stooges who make up her inner circle), it’s funny how the only one who seems to actually recognize how much of a pawn he really is, is TORCHWICK of all people.

Like when you look at Roman’s scenes with Cinder and her minions, and particularly his final fight with Ruby in Volume 3, it’s pretty clear that he was always acutely aware that he was a very small piece of a MUCH larger game.

Just compare that to the likes of Adam, Leonardo, Jacques and Ironwood, who by all rights were all COMPLETELY oblivious to how much they were getting played, or just how little they mattered to Salem.

And that gets even more interesting when you consider that Roman was probably the smallest piece in terms of both status and overall significance compared to Salem’s other pawns. Like I actually don’t think for a moment that Torchwick ever actually met Salem or even KNEW about her by name. I imagine all Roman knew was that there was some boss/mom that Cinder was reporting to.

Instead, Torchwick was able to look at everything Cinder was doing and plotting, between manipulating the White Fang, securing several warehouses of stolen dust, planning a full-on grimm-incursion of Vale during the Vytal Festival with the ultimate aim of toppling one of the four Huntsman Academies. Not to mention I imagine Roman had at least an inkling as to the whole Maiden business that Cinder was after, plus the fact that she seemed to be able to control grimm to a degree. Maybe even guess that this was a plot years if not decades in the making.

And it’s pretty clear that Roman took one look at all this and rightly surmised that he was a bit player in a truly MASSIVE game. As he implies to Ruby during their final fight, Torchwick may not have known much about Salem or her plans, but he knew ENOUGH that he didn’t want to be standing AGAINST her.

Again, just compare that to someone like Adam Taurus, so-called big-shot revolutionary with his big plans to topple the oppression of the humans… who seems to have had no fucking clue that his new ‘friends’ were fully intent on sending him and his followers out to die as a DISTRACTION for their own plans.

Or of course, James Ironwood the big, strong (self-appointed) defender of Atlas and (also self-appointed) last, best hope for humanity, who to his dying breath seems to have been ENTIRELY oblivious to just how completely Salem and her minions were playing him like the cheap kazoo he was.

Or just Jacques Schnee the big-shot corporate overlord who wasn’t even important enough to know about any kind of scheme. All he needed was Watts dangling an election win like keys in front of a baby to be a dutiful little pawn for Salem.

Though funny enough, to Jacques’ credit; the moment he hears about the heating grid going down he does seem to immediately catch on that Watts played him for a chump.

And it’s rather amusing that this is more than can be said for the likes of the ‘Faunus Revolutionary’ who bent the knee to a human girl who kicked his ass, or Ol’ Jimmy the Child-Shooter himself.

#rwby #rwby analysis #roman torchwick #Salem #adam taurus #james ironwood #jacques schnee #in which roman was actually the smartest of salem's stooges #because he could actually SEE that he was a stooge #also yes i am never not going to use that nickname for ironwood XD

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jiminjamms · 1 year ago

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sex therapy :: 19. open up

chapter tags/warnings: dad! toji. angsty! megumi. strong language. classism. infidelity. manipulative undertones. naoya sucks ass.

word count: 3.6k

notes: thank you for waiting for this update! i was taking exams for some work-related licenses and started my big girl recently. i've also added more chapters to this series because i underestimated when i first planned out the fic. likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated. enjoy! xoxo

fic masterlist | 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. 09. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33.

“Can...we talk?”

At first, Toji blinked.

Naturally, he wasn’t sure how to react to such a situation: his client, who he had assumed avoided him for weeks, now standing at his apartment door? This was new.

He didn’t quite understand how or why you ended up here at this hour, but he forced a worried smile. “Yeah, of course, we can talk.”

When you first tried to speak, your voice only came out as a hoarse croak. So you had to clear your throat, and you forced words to come out again.

“I’m sorry,” you managed to eke out.

“Sorry?” Toji raised a brow in surprise. “For what?”

Hesitating, you bit gently at your inner cheek. “If I tell you, can you please promise me you won’t get mad? Or judge me? I’m just...looking for someone to talk to, and I really, really need you to promise me.”

In hindsight, that was a stupid question because you both knew that listening was his job, his profession, his field of expertise. Even with the minimal information Toji had gathered in these few seconds, he probably began piecing together your story on his own already. He was good like that—that was what made him your therapist, so there was no need to sugarcoat anything when he already read right through you.

Still, Toji eased you with a sturdy nod. “Sure. I promise.”

You didn’t even know where to start in this apology, frankly. You were sorry for doubting him, sorry for ignoring all the red flags he had pointed out about your husband Naoya Zenin. In the end, you were sorry for being so fucking stupid.

The first time Toji had warned you about Naoya, you should have listened. Toji was the expert here, so how blind could you have been? There was nothing like the crushing realization when you realized for yourself that winning your husband back was nothing more than a pipe dream.

Far before marrying you, Naoya had long loved someone else. Sure, ‘love’ may be a strong word, but why else would Naoya never want to be home? He could hardly find interest in you and became revolted when looking your way. He must have felt so wrong, so immoral, when cheating on his side-girlfriend for his wife.

The way Naoya had spoken to you tonight just rubbed salt into the wound. Just shut up. Know your boundaries. Because you were just, in his words, a fucking ornament.

His mistress sure wasn’t, though, and anyone could place the winning bet that he had gone off to spend the night with her.

Why were you not enough?

Was it because she was pretty and you were ugly? That she was smart and you were dumb? That she was funny and you were dull? Just...why? What was the reason?

And, through thick swallows and blinked-back tears, you told Toji all of that.

In one gusto, you have once again dumped all your troubles upon his shoulders. A horrible person, that was what you were—and knowing this, your gaze stayed low.

From your rambling onslaught, Toji must be processing a lot but gave away no emotional indication. From his years at work, he probably had heard it all.

You waited for Toji to retort with a pompous ‘I told you so!’ or burst into a disdainful laugh—that was how Naoya would have responded. But those reactions never came.

On the contrary, Toji tapped his chest. “Come here.”

You frowned over at him, brushing a stray tear from your chin. “What?”

“Just get over here.”

When you still wavered with reluctance, Toji pulled you tight against him—one hand firmly pressed against your lower back as the other guided your face to nestle by his shoulder.

Not expecting this, you were initially stiff and awkward in his arms. Toji’s chest was hard and muscled rather than comfortable, chiseled from his frequent strength training sessions at the gym. But when he began to rub slow circles at your waist with one hand, the other running up and down your back in gentle strokes, something about these little gestures let all your emotions go.

Slowly, you brought your arms up to wrap around him, hugging him in response. He was warm, his body like a furnace that heated your skin. You curled your hands into tight fists, grabbing the fabric of his T-shirt along with your hold. 

Then, like floodgates bursting, you melted into Toji with a sob.

“What have I done wrong?” you wailed. “Why can’t I do anything right? What do I even do from here?”

Toji listened silently as you continued to bawl, releasing all your anger and pain from the terrible weeks that you had endured. He squeezed you the tightest when you sobbed the loudest, comforting you with his ‘there there’ hums.

“Everything will be okay,” he affirmed eventually, but his words seemed so difficult to believe.

“No! Everything won’t be okay, Toji,” you cried and shook your head into his neck. “My husband doesn’t want me. Then, if Naoya doesn’t want me, the Zenins wouldn’t want me. Then, no one will want me!”

“Not true,” Toji was quick to say. He pulled you closer, his large hands patting your upper back too. “Forget Naoya, he’s an utter jerk. He might leave you, but you know who won’t? At the very least, your father won’t—he loves you.”

“But I would have disappointed him.”

“How?” he countered sharply. “If he had known how his son-in-law was treating his daughter, why would your father be disappointed in you?”

Between sniffles, you ruminated his points, half-convinced.

Toji, breathing out, then added, “Also...I won’t leave you, either. I care about you. There. You’ve already got two on your side. You will not be alone.”

“But then, what about,” you kept your lips pressed onto his collarbone, “What about the Zenins? Would they turn their backs on me too?”

Underneath your fingertips, you could feel Toji tensing at the name. “With a family so large, there are bound to be those supporting you as well. You make it sound like all his aunts, his uncles, his...,” he paused briefly, “...his cousins, all worship Naoya when a household like that is rife with drama beneath surface level. Family isn’t family for something like the Zenins. Politics comes first. Business comes first.”

His answer came out with such confidently that you silently questioned how he could be so sure.

But you suddenly remembered the kind embraces from Mai and your heart softened at the thought of Maki.

Maybe Toji was right.

A soundless sigh flew from your mouth before your arms tightened around Toji's torso, hugging him and resting your chin on his shoulder. After several moments longer, you finally released one long exhale, your tears having stopped and your breathing less erratic.

Your heart was like lead in your chest, but you pulled your face away from him.

“I’m sorry,” you rasped, throat raw. “My makeup got onto your shirt.”

Toji’s smile was soft.

“That’s fine.” He couldn’t give a damn about his white top. Reassuringly, he ran his hands along your waist before settling on your hips, thumbs rubbing circles into your skin. “As long as you are feeling better, that’s all I need. Besides, that’s my job, yes?”

“Yes...” you mumbled shyly, wiping tears from your face with the heel of your hand.

At the sight, Toji reached toward a tissue box behind the door frame.

“Don’t cry anymore. Naoya isn’t worth the heartache, I’ll guarantee you that.” He dabbed at your pretty face with the napkin in his hands, wiping away not only the remaining tears but also the stream of snot. Lovely. “I am your friend, okay? Before the therapist stuff. We will fix this, together. That’s what friends are for.”

Friends.

When Toji first called him your friend, you did not think that he would somehow become your closest confidant.

You leaned into his touch briefly, sinking into the comfort of his palm.

“Feeling better, princess?”

Toji watched you with a chartreuse glimmer in his eyes before you finally pulled yourself from his grasp. His fingers flexed at the lost touch, almost like he was hesitant to let you go, but who was he to stop you? It wasn’t like Toji was your husband or anything.

"I am,” you replied. “Thank you.”

“Any time.” He hummed in the ensuing silence before stepping to the side. “Since you’re already here, why don’t you come in? I wouldn’t want you going back like this. Naoya won’t be home, so at least you will have some company here.”

Tempting.

“I really shouldn’t stay...”

“What? Are you sure?”

No, you were not sure, and Toji sure as hell knew that.

He lolled his head toward the interior, a few of his black strands sliding across his forehead with the movement.

“C’mon, I won’t bite,” he reassured before chuckling, “unless...you want me to.”

You shot the therapist a glare, but the resolve to stay upset faded when you saw him gleam with a wide smirk. Well? that mischievous spark in him seemed to say. What do you think?

Rolling your eyes, you initially snorted at the offer but could not help smiling at the stupid joke immediately afterward. Your body crumpled forward as you burst into giggles, realizing that this was the first time in weeks that you were...laughing?

“Fine,” you relented.

Toji seemed to beam in silent victory, which was cute coming from someone who looked so tough. He swept his arm in a gentle arc toward his apartment.

“Then, after you, m’lady.”

You gusYou gushed at the title.

"If you insist,” and you stepped in.

The warmth from his condo was the first to greet you as though a fireplace had been crackling in the distance. For someone who somehow had the means to afford such a luxurious space, Toji went simple in his furnishings. His cream-colored walls were cleared, save for some framed art pieces that dotted the corridors, and there were no ornate cabinets or dazzling décor. His taste in minimalism and timelessness contrasted with the grandeur in your palatial-like residence, but both styles had their appeal.

He had a gray and beige color scheme going on with the couches, the tabletops, and the lighting fixtures. The walnut wood flooring added a rustic touch to the apartment, and every corner effortlessly converged refined aesthetics with the sense of home. Even the smell inside was cozy because the apartment emanated of him—of Toji himself: spices with the redolence of bergamot and sage.

He guided you through a (very wide) hallway that opened into an equally expansive living room. Towards the side was a spiral staircase that led to an upper floor and, further ahead, floor-to-ceiling windows opened to an evening panorama.

The sky was completely dark, with the sun sunk below the horizon long ago, and the waxing moon hung like a silver sliver far away. Holding your breath, you stepped towards the glass, observing the bustle far below that twinkled like firecrackers against the concrete backdrop.

“You know, your place...is a lot nicer than I expected.”

The man tucked his large hands into his front pockets. “I’m offended.”

Instantly, you grew flustered. “No, I didn’t mean it like that!” (Yes, you totally did.) “It’s just that Sukuna had made it sound like—” That you were dirt poor. “But then Geto said...” Okay, you shouldn’t be dragging more people into this. “Never mind.”

Quickly, you glanced back outside again, hoping to look like you were distracted by the vista.

“But then Sukuna and Geto said what?” Toji pried, not letting you live this down. He appeared uncharacteristically intrigued. He wanted to know what his coworkers had spilled, by how much you knew. “What have the other therapists said about me?”

“Ah, nothing much really,” you confessed, which was the truth to some extent.

“How much is ‘nothing much?’”

“Just, well,” you rolled your lips together in thought, “maybe that something, some event, or some person wronged you.” Geto’s words rang fresh in your head. “That ‘Toji just isn’t where he could possibly be.’”

Half-expectantly, you looked over at the said man from under your lashes, waiting for him to comment on the matter. Toji always appeared so hesitant to talk about his past, but you hoped that he would stop being so mysterious. It was as though he was an enigma for cautious reasons, assessing how much he could open up before he could entirely trust you.

Toji had pursed his lips as the silence in the living room became uncomfortable. But just when he appeared ready to speak, someone else filled the silence for him.

“Why the hell are you here?”

All heads turned to a frowning teenager who stood by the foot of the stairs.

He had dark eyes—dark eyes glared only at you, narrowed into a violent abyss as though he was mentally aiming daggers into your soul. For a fleeting moment, you were puzzled at who this boy was until Toji spoke first.

“That’s no way to greet a guest, Megumi.”

Oh, right. Toji had an eighteen-year-old son, and Megumi was his name. While you had spoken with the teenager on the phone before, it was different to see him in person for the first time.

For starters, the physical similarities between father and son became immediately apparent. Sure, Toji’s features had a rough edge around them—shaped from his additional years in life—but the two shared the same black stands, pointed noses, and taut lips. There was no denying the flawless genes that flowed between them.

Megumi, though, had a subtle softness to him. The teenager was smaller and shorter compared to his imposing and rugged father, but he tried to mask that youthful innocence instead with his brash style. He pulled off that ‘wild’ look better than most boys his age could, his hair longer and more tousled. The way he stood in a contrapposto, coupled with how stylish he appeared in his fuchsia tee and black cargo pants, made him look like a model from a streetwear magazine. He reached for an ear piercing with fingers adorned with flashy rings, toying with one particular stud as he examined you.

Goodness, Megumi Fushiguro was as good-looking as Sukuna had hyped him up to be.

“Well?” the boy’s irritated voice snapped you back to the present. “What are you doing at our apartment?”

“Oh, me?” You pointed to yourself. Well, no shit. Who else was he talking to? “I, um—”

“You’re another one of my dad’s women, aren’t you?” the teenager asked out of the blue, leaving you staring at him dumbly.

“One of your dad’s who?”

“Hey!” Toji warned, tone sharp. Frowning at the boy, he reprimanded him with one forceful thwack. Dad Toji was very different than Therapist Toji. “Watch what you—"

“You’re the one who called me down here!” Megumi shouted back, pushing his father’s arm away.

“Yes, I did. So what took you ten minutes to get here?”

“I was in the middle of Valorant. I left my team mid-game but for this?”

And suddenly, there was this thick and awkward tension that engulfed the room. If you had the magical ability to teleport at will, you would. Toji was obviously distraught at his son’s outburst and Megumi was similarly bristled by your presence.

About you? Well, there wasn’t anything you could do.

You took a few steps back. It was unsettling to be caught in a heated confrontation between father and son, and you silently wondered if you should just slip away to let those two sort out their miscommunications.

“So, this is your new strategy, huh?” Megumi seethed vehemently toward his father, capitalizing upon the silence. “Telling me that Nobara and Yuuji are here only for you to introduce me to, out of everyone in this world, her?!”

The attack felt personal when Megumi raised his arm and pointed squarely at you, even if the boy glowered at his dad instead. You had frozen, stopped by confusion, as Megumi continued in anger: “What is the meaning of this!”

Toji, who was returning his son’s glare, glanced at you briefly. He didn’t show this side to him very often: the one where he was just a single dad, handling a moody teenage son at home.

You wondered if Toji felt weird that you were watching him deal with Megumi’s tantrum. At least, he must be embarrassed that this was how your first encounter with Megumi was going, but he didn’t offer much into his internal dialogue because he clenched his teeth, his eyes sliding slowly to his son again.

“Megumi,” Toji started, “please...don’t point at people. That’s not nice.”

His voice was sterner than before, but the boy responded with a dramatic scoff.

“Nice?!” Megumi repeated. “You want me to be nice to her? Is this some sick joke?!” His face twisted with disbelief. “With all the horrible crap that had happened to us, what good thing has she ever done? Just because she’s pretty, and suddenly, you’ve forgiven her for everything?”

You blinked, stumped.

Forgive you?

Why would Toji need to forgive you?

Perplexed, you turned to Toji but he did not meet your gaze.

“There is nothing to forgive her for. She hasn’t done anything wrong,” the older man defended, but Megumi wanted to hear none of this.

He was out for blood.

“That’s because you’re too fucking infatuated to see the demon she is,” he huffed, voice laced with bitterness. “Dad, I wish you would put your goddamn brain to use and stop thinking with your dick first.”

“Language!” Toji snapped with a roar. “She’s our friend!”

“Friend, my ass! I don’t like your fucking friends!”

With eyes blown wide, Megumi clenched his fists so tightly that his hands began to shake.

“I just...I just can’t believe you,” and when his voice cracked, there was pain that bubbled from the frustration. “I already told you that I don’t want to meet whoever you are bringing home. Just stop trying so hard for my sake. This hurts me, and this also hurts you. Can’t you see that, Dad? Nothing’s going to bring Mom back! I’m over that, alright?” His Adam’s apple bobbed when he gulped, though, before he finally added: “And I’m tired!”

At that, Megumi walked—correction, stormed—away.

“Fuck this shit,” he spat and marched up the stairs, grumbling more profanities upon his climb.

The footsteps’ volume started to fade, but not before a loud bang startled you when Megumi slammed his bedroom door shut, the entire apartment seemingly shuddering with the sound.

Beside you, the Toji that you had always known—the snarky man who always seemed so unruffled by even the wildest moments—crumbled a little when he sighed. He rubbed his face with a free hand, sinking his forehead into his palm as he muttered indiscernibly.

He collected himself he turned back around to you, but you saw that his shoulders sagged with an invisible weight, the emerald glimmer in his eyes now a dim flicker. Within ten minutes, Toji had grown to look stressed and incredibly tired.

“Hey,” Toji started, his voice impossibly small for a man as large as him. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sorry that you had to see that. He’s usually a good kid. I’ll talk to him again later.”

You bit your lip.

“Oh, um...Well...That’s okay,” you eventually replied, which was a total lie because that was not okay. Even as you offered a small smile for support, Megumi—his words, his tone, his ferocious glare—slashed at your heart. You rationalized his behavior aloud to ease your own pain. “Megumi’s eighteen, and you know what teenagers are like: hormonal with their mood swings all the time. You are a great father, Toji. This isn’t your fault.”

“No. This is my fault,” he replied very quickly.

Oh. So instead you said: “I get it.”

“Except you don’t get it.”

Your heart sank at his words, realizing that you truly did not understand where this father-son conflict stemmed from. Was it...was it because of you?

You never intended to burden anyone, yet your mere existence appeared to be doing just that.

It was painful to see Toji like this. During your lowest lows, he always offered considerable comfort and renewed confidence, but you weren’t sure what to say to provide him with the same. By some weird twisted fate, Toji now needed you more than you needed him. As a therapist, he had a special soothing effect, and never have you so badly wished for the same.

“Then,” this time you were more careful with your words, “Then, help me understand. Help me so that I can then help you.”

Tone resolute, you longed to learn about the unspoken difficulties that Toji had been facing by himself. While you had your troubles, he must have had many more for his son—not even Toji himself—to act this way.

Perhaps you also cared for him more than you thought because, as he noted himself, he’s your friend.

Toji held a long inhale, thinking and thinking and thinking, before breathing out in one audible go.

“Where do I even start?”

last chapter || next chapter

end notes: I loved fleshing out our relationship with Toji from a channel to mutually release sexual frustrations to a friendship built upon shared vulnerabilities. Also, Megumi is very much in his emo and rebellious teenage era. Like most people his age, he has his reasons…

taglist: @dissociatingdiva @httpsplanetmarsdotcom @nemoyr @huangfairy @shadowarchon @203steph @agentdedf1sh @cloudybabes @hinativity @lynn-writes-things @illicitwriter @7oji @kikuchimi @piqer @nobody289x @chaoticjojofan @musicisme333 @vvestwoodrose @kumocchin @s-guru @mwahilovemylife @hey-gurls69 @cloudsinthecosmos @moon-mumu-moon @kazscara @obitohno @skilerfrostfairy @funicidals @nico707 @proteovaldez @tsukiyohanayome @marimoares @qirbys @moodpi @blackdragoncigarette @puffaloxx @shoisae @sakanoshitaa @arizzu @kissditrio @tokyometronetwork @downtown-roponggi @the-cosmos-network

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total-drama-brainrot · 11 months ago

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hi idk if this has been said but . pls hear my vision… lindsay and noah platonic duo. brains and the beauty. noahs the brains. lindsays the beauty. noahs like “jeez this girl is dumb i cn manipulate her or smth” but then he starts warming up to her and they like paint eachothers nails and talk about boys or somthing idk please theyre besties trust 🤞

(also noah finally gets a makeover courtesy of lindsay)

I think I might've mentioned this exact duo before, though I may be wrong about that. Regardless, I've had Many A Thought about the potential dynamic between Lindsay "reclaiming bimbo as a term of empowerment" and Noah "could be god's biggest hater but was nerfed with an inability to GAF", to the point where I have a few drafts exploring this exact concept.

Through the lens of my eyes (blurry as it would be, my prescription fairly strong), I don't think Noah would ever consider manipulating Lindsay- at least, not in a similar manner to the likes of Heather or Alejandro. He's shown in canon to be pretty adverse to the idea. Why else would he make those comments about Alejandro in "I See London..."?

Not that he doesn't think about how easy it would be to use her. But his morality wins out over his scheming thoughts pretty quickly- no one wants to be New Heather, after all.

However, he's also shown a capacity to explore sneakier options of deception and trickery; pretending to pass out during the 20k run in The Big Sleep, trying to excuse his comment about Alejandro under the guise of it "being a compliment where he's from", tricking the Sasquatch with his fake ball throwing, getting himself eliminated on purpose in Dodgebrawl. I'm trying to think of other examples In Canon off the top of my head, but I'm coming up short since most of his actual speaking lines in the show are 'zingers' and 'witty one-liners' instead of actual character moments.

And we also know, from the way he treats Owen, that he's a lot more patient and indulgent towards the... 'slower' or 'simpler' contestants. He very rarely gets mad at Owen's mistakes- see how he gently chastises him in "Super Happy Crazy Fun Time Japan" when he's disturbing their set, he'd pretty much gentle parenting him, or how he doesn't even raise his voice against Owen after being blasted by nose-shake in "I See London...". You could argue that Owen just has best friend privileges, but given the way he also talks about his dog I think Noah just has a soft spot for happy-go-lucky, heart-of-gold, kind of stupid people (and blondes). Sound familiar?

Lindsay would fall under this umbrella of 'treat with kindness' because of this, but that doesn't mean he wouldn't try to subtly nudge her in the 'right direction'- out of Heather's and/or Alejandro's influence and into his own. For her own safety, of course.

Not that I think he'd even like Lindsay at first. The two of them are opposite ends of the social spectrum; I'd take a while for Lindsay to break through his snarky exterior, but I think eventually Noah would realise that she isn't the 'two-faced airhead popular girl' he'd assumed her to be and quickly warm up to her (she's airheaded, sure, but there's nothing two-faced or nefarious/mean-spirited about Lindsay). It's a classic case of "extrovert adopts introvert".

Meanwhile, Lindsay would be dead-set on breaking Noah out of his sour little shell. Either because she overhears Owen/Izzy/Eva explaining how Noah struggles to make friends because he's "very shy" and "mixes up his insults and his compliments", thus she assumes that, hey, Noah's made fun of her a few times, maybe that was just him trying to be friendly? So she makes it her mission to reciprocate his efforts and befriend him (much to Noah's initial suspicion, and begrudging appreciation).

Or she gets the concept of a 'gay best friend' stuck in her head (an impressive feat, getting anything stuck in such a vacant space /j) probably from watching too many high school teen dramas, and sees Noah as the ideal candidate since he pretty much embodies most of the stereotypical GBF traits; a sassy twink who's defining characteristic is making snarky comments. If Noah ever caught wind of this, he'd either be mortified by the concept and avoid Lindsay like the plague until she'd eventually hunt him down, or he'd think the whole concept is too funny to pass up and gladly play the part- if only for his own amusement. (Personally I headcanon him as bi, but he's so canonically queer coded that he fits the stereotype anyway.)

Which is all just a long-winded way of me saying I think Lindsay would kindle the friendship without giving Noah much of a choice (again, extrovert adopting introvert) and Noah would just go along with it, being the lazy guy he is, and quickly grow fond/protective over her.

If he and Owen are the golden retriever and black cat dynamic, Noah and Lindsay are an afghan hound and a black cat; Noah has a lot of black cat energy (that's just a given) and you cannot tell me that Lindsay isn't an afghan hound- they're pretty, gentle-natured and renown for their low intelligence.

Plus, Lindsay's capacity for meanness (as unintentional as it may be) would be comedy gold to Noah. He'd encourage her to keep that sharp tongue and steel spine, if not for his own entertainment, then to ensure she doesn't become someone else's doormat again. In return, Lindsay would bring out a softer side of Noah, likely a result of her reminding him of his several older sisters.

She'd absolutely abuse her 'soft Noah' privileges too by roping him in on sleepovers where the two of them gossip and paint each other's nails (Noah's against the idea at first but Lindsay hits him with the puppy eyes and he folds like a lawn chair), eventually leading to Lindsay giving Noah a much needed glow up. He finds himself enjoying the pampering- though he'd never admit it- and Lindsay's just ecstatic that she has someone to use as a dress-up doll (Tyler wouldn't let her give him another makeover after Paris).

#i have a lot of thoughts about the beauty&brains duo #this would also be why lindsay calls tyler 'noah' in wt btw. she's mixing up her bf and her gbf. doesn't help that they both--#have long-ish brown hair and wear red (she's face blind give my girl a break 😭)#this ended up longer than i anticipated. again. at this point i should stop assuming i'll give short responses.#the brainrot cannot be contained. i am patient zero.#anyway THANK YOU FOR THE ASK please feed me more b&b content. it fuels me.#total drama #td lindsay #td noah #silly headcanons #character analysis #⬅ kind of? a little bit #replies #long post

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11queensupreme11 · 2 months ago

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You don’t have to answer this question if you’re not comfortable, however I saw you discussing a bit about the election. Based on your response I figured you were anti-Trump. I will admit I am right leaning (not extremely but leaning) and I will agree that I am not pro-Trump. However I am also not pro-Kamala. I wanted to know your view on both candidates, pros and cons if you’re comfortable with that! For me I wasn’t able to vote this year but I will be able to vote next election (my birthday is after November 5th). But coming from a leaning republican here’s my pros and cons

Trump cons

-he’s very extreme in republican beliefs

-doesn’t support the LGBTQ (I am not apart of the community so I don’t know much on this controversy but I have heard from my friends in the community that he’s against it)

-very sensitive about his rally’s

-his multiple charges against him (though it can be noted that the time the charges came out was during a crucial time in his run for presidency so it could have been a plan to try and make him look bad, I’m not sure how many allegations actually were proven true or false)

-foreign involvement (he tends to get involved with other nations)

Trump pros

-very good at fixing the economy (when he was president it was one of the few time my family, a middle class family, actually was making excess money, we actually saved up enough to finally buy a home and my dad didn’t have to work 2 jobs and my mom worked night shifts to make ends meet. A lot more people got employed under his presidency)

-less foreign conflict (when Trump was president last time there was a lot less rumors of wars and wars going on since Trump was very firm with foreign involvement but we already are in some foreign conflict)

-immigration (I am Mexican, my mother was an illegal immigrant, but I do have to slightly agree that we need stricter boarder control. I’ve heard stories about the Cartels and them chasing people from Mexico and into the US and that’s terrifying)

Kamala cons

-controversy (Kamala has also had her share of controversy. She had ads about legalizing weed and showed mainly black people in the ad. Also she may be, I can’t confirm but I’ve heard it from others, that she is related to a past slave owners. Kamala was also voted in my the Democratic Party and not the people. Biden was the candidate that people wanted for the Democratic Party till he dropped out the. The Democratic Party put Kamala Harris as the new candidate. She had run against Biden to be the candidate before he dropped out and lost so she didn’t originally have the people’s support. Ect.)

-extremely left (I see being extremely left and extremely right as big problems)

-“middle class” (a lot of Kamala’s speeches were about helping the middle class yet in her actual speeches the middle class she described was the lower-upper class, not the true middle class)

-economic growth (currently under democratic leadership the economy hasn’t been good)

Kamala pros

-she’s very pro-environment and that’s a problem that has needed fixing for a while

-she isn’t against the LGBTQ

I’m curious to hear your response since it’s by hearing and talking to others without hate or prejudice that we can expand our own thinking and see things from new perspectives. I always wonder how media can manipulate perception so much, how two people can consume similar media from different sources but form 2 different opinions. I love your works and thanks for reading this!

Sincerely, me, a Mexican-Hawaiian girl

everything you put under trump's pros is completely false and further proof as to why misinformation is such a huge problem so lemme address your points one by one

"very good at fixing the economy"

firstly, when trump reigned it was under obama's economy. this is actually a pretty common thing for new presidents to inherit the economy of the previous administration (obama was president and had bush's economy, trump was president and had obama's economy, and etc.). their job is to either continue building that economy (if it was a good one) or rebuild it if it sucked.

when a president is elected, the economy doesn't just restart to zero and the new guy has to begin a new economy. no, they inherit it from the previous administration and they either inherit successes or deficits and they get to continue building it or destroying it

(the "president" being mentioned is trump btw)

source: here. other sources if you wanna check out: 1

and speaking of economy, here's what things are gonna look like once trump goes back into office with his stupid tariffs idea that people stupidly thought was a GOOD thing:

(also, i love how they CONVENIENTLY decided to publish this AFTER the elections...)

"less foreign conflict"

💀💀💀

idek HOW you got that info and i'm even more confused as to why you put "foreign involvement" in the cons above that, and yet switched up to say this.... but anyway there are SOOOO MANY sources from articles, interviews, videos, HIS OWN TWEETS, that clearly prove otherwise but here's a nice lil tiktok that managed to compile a good bunch of it:

"immigration"

this part killed me especially since you also mentioned that your mom wasn't here legally BUT i noticed that you said "was" as in past tense, so i'm hoping she somehow found a way to fix that

you want strict immigration control because you heard stories about the cartel chasing people here... but i don't see why you have an issue with that? the cartel is dangerous af, OF COURSE people would want to flee to protect themselves and their families? but you say you want stricter immigration and border control??? are you worried about the cartel coming here or are you saying you think the ones fleeing are dangerous?

kinda confused ^ but regardless, trump doesn't want "stricter" border control for the safety of the people, he just wants you all gone cuz he's racist af and so are his rabid worshippers 💀

also, did you forget he had kids in cages, forcefully separated from their families with no way to get back to them and had those kids FORCED TO GO TO COURT? (sources: 1, 2, 3, 4) or the time his insanely strict immigration restrictions caused the amount of drowning migrants to increase (source: 1)

he and his team are working their asses off to get started on their little denaturalization project (forcefully revoking US citizenship) 💀

from the loving words of michael davis, trump's chief legal defender:

"We're gonna deport a lot of people, 10 million people and growing - anchor babies [that's YOU anon, since you said your mom was an illegal immigrant], their parents, their grandparents. We're gonna put kids in cages. It's gonna be glorious."

ALSO!!!

for list of cons for trump you forgot to add:

has 34 felonies

is a rapist

incited an insurrection

shrugged off the possible lynching of his vice president (mike pence) during said insurrection

his abortion ban led to the preventable deaths of thousands of women and now that he's back, the numbers will increase

got impeached twice

got thousands killed because of how he didn't even bother to handle the COVID pandemic

also caused a lot of asian americans to be harmed because of his racist comments about them during said pandemic

caused haitian immigrants to be harmed because of his stupid "they're eating the cats! they're eating the dogs!" comments

he's a racist, a rapist, a misogynist, a sexist, a narcissist, a habitual liar, and has no idea on how to actually run a presidency

and many many more

since we're on the topic of misinformation, here's this:

this here shows how powerful misinformation is for the trump administration. a lot of the people who voted for him did it solely to be cruel yes, but there's also some people who just genuinely didn't do ANY research and foolishly voted against everyone's interests including their own

the people who believed the misinformation voted for trump, the people who knew the truth voted for kamala, and some of the misinformation is actually VERY similar to the things you just mentioned

"violent crime rates are at a near all-time highs in most major american cities" FALSE, but trump voters thought it was true

"inflation in the US has declined over the last year and is near historic averages" TRUE, but trump voters thought it was false (this says "last year", implying under biden's rule, so trump voters believe that inflation did not decline under biden's economy when it actually did)

"the US stock market is at or near all-time highs" TRUE, but trump voters thought it was false

"over the last few months, unauthorized border crossings at the US-Mexico border are at or near the lowest level in the last few years" TRUE, but trump voters believed it to be false.

#👸🏻| asks #👸🏻| rambles

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