#but I’ve had three (3!) moments within the last hour in which I just had to put my face in my hands and breathe through the pain

[adelstitel]

halfway through reading young mungo and all I have to say is what the fuck

[prince-rowan-of-the-forest]

Never Did I Truely Hate You

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Janus doesn't expect any of the others to want him around after he's accepted. Even Remus has been acting off. So, of course, the most sensible course of action would be to avoid the source of hurt entirely.

Virgil does not agree.

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| Ao3 |

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Warnings: Self isolation, pretty negative self image

Pairings: Anxceit, very background intrulogical.

Word Count: 2071

Notes: Did a poll on here for which fic I should post next and this one won in a tie with another fic that I will post on Wednesday :3

I feel like I don't write very much canonverse anymore so lmk what you think!!!

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Janus hadn’t expected everything to be perfect now that he - and begrudgingly Remus - had moved up to the light side’s commons. 

He did not expect Roman to forgive him, or become any less hostile towards him at all, after everything he had done to him. He didn’t expect Patton to want much to do with him, and he expected Logan to prefer talking to anyone but him - even Remus, who he’d spent a surprisingly long amount of time with recently, but whatever, that was none of his business.

And even more than that, He didn’t expect a single ounce of kindness from Virgil. 

Not after he’d left, not after the quips and insults and snipes whenever they’d been within hissing distance of one another. No, he didn’t even expect Virgil to want to be in the same room as him, let alone talk to him, or heaven forbid sit down at the same table as him.

So, Janus decided to intrude on their space as little as possible. It was better to avoid the emotional turmoil and annoying pain it would cause than go through it all… right? …Right??

And so that was how Janus found himself becoming almost nocturnal for the first few weeks of this new arrangement. He also just so happened to spend an ungodly amount of time in the private greenhouse Remus had made for him as an extension of his room (fit, of course, with deadly tropical plants and poisons). He sat there for hours reading, or spent time caring for the snakes that also shared the space and he didn’t come out when someone knocked.

Which was rare because, of course, no-one wanted to talk to him. 

He spent time in the commons at night, making food, eating said food, sometimes even watching a film during the dead hours of the morning. It was fine, he was fine with this arrangement, and he was sure everyone else was enjoying business as usual - you know, without him there.

So far, Janus had managed to avoid running into any side at night - aside from one time, when he came across Roman, though he was already passed out at the kitchen island, so it hardly counted. Something he should have remembered - and would kick himself for forgetting after the events that were about to unfurl because of it - was how awful Virgil’s own sleep schedule was. 

He realised this fact very abruptly when, one night at just past three in the morning, Janus went to open the fridge, only to be attacked from above and tackled to the ground by some kind of hissing creature. 

Moments later, when he gathered his thoughts just enough to will the lights in the living space to turn on, he realised that said hissing creature was actually their resident spider himself, who was now sitting firmly on Janus’ chest as he pinned him to the ground with strong hands on his shoulders. What the fuck?

“Virgil?” Janus asked after a long stretch of silence in which they both stared at each other. 

“I finally got you,” Virgil huffed, seeming a little out of breath from the violent attack, “I’ve been - trying for the last week but you’re too fucking - slippery.”

“What??” Janus asked, staring at Virgil in disbelief, “why?”

“Because you’ve been avoiding all of us since you came up here, idiot,” Virgil said, pushing a little more weight onto Janus’ shoulders, it was starting to hurt, just a little, but he wasn’t about to tell Virgil to get off - this was the closest he’d gotten to him since… before, and Janus wouldn’t lie - at least not in his own thoughts - about how big of a crush he’d always had on Virgil. So yes, he was confused as hell, but he was absolutely not going to push Virgil away when he willingly touched him for the first time in years. What could he say, he was selfish.

“And?” Janus said, trying to make sure his face didn’t betray his raging feelings the position they were in were causing, “So what? I totally expect you and the others would actually want me around.”

“...So what? Dude I’ve been worried sick! Patton asks if we’ve seen you literally every day at breakfast- what? Even Remus doesn’t know where you’ve been!” Virgil yelled, “And then- I was down here on the sofa one night and - well I guess you didn’t fucking see me or whatever but you came down and then disappeared again - so I’ve been trying to catch you every night since to work out what the fuck is going on.”

“There’s nothing ‘going on’,” Janus protested, he was pretty sure he’d lost his hat when Virgil had knocked him over, he didn’t feel too comfortable without it, “I’m just giving you all space to recover after the last episode.”

“No you’re not,” Virgil said, shaking his head with a frown, “I know you too well for that, and we don’t need space, what’s going on, Janus.”

“I-” Janus trailed off, realising that Virgil had really trapped him in a corner here - both literally and metaphorically, Virgil knew him too well, even now, he could spot his lies easily, “It’s nothing of your concern.”

“I didn’t tell the others,” Virgil said, Janus blinked, staring at Virgil’s face in confusion.

“...Didn’t tell the others… what?”

“That you were coming down here at night, that I was trying to uh - do whatever you call this,” Virgil huffed, lifting one hand from his shoulder to gesture to the position the two of them were in, “I didn’t tell them.”

“Why not?” Janus asked, frowning.

Virgil groaned and rolled his eyes, “Because I know you too fucking well, now tell me why you’ve suddenly turned into an owl instead of a snake.”

“I’m saving you all the trouble of pushing me away,” Janus snapped after a long enough pause that Janus knew Virgil wouldn’t relent, “I already know that you all totally want me here, even if Patton’s stupid gesture to accept me meant anything.”

Virgil was silent for a second, didn’t break eye contact as he hesitated, before moving his hands from Janus’ shoulders. For a moment Janus expected him to stand up, dust himself off and mention something about how he was right before walking off. Instead, Virgil sighed and flopped down so he was lying fully on Janus’ chest, head tucked under his chin. 

Almost completely on autopilot - since his brain was entirely bluescreening at the action - Janus’ arms came up to wrap around Virgil, who let out a surprised hum at the action.

“...Virgil?” Janus asked, voice wary. Everything he could have possibly expected from this interaction had just been flung out of the window with a single action.

“When Patton accepted you,” Virgil said, voice a little muffled to Janus’ ears, “I- I was angry at first, but then I just thought that like- now that they liked you I could - I could go back to liking you too, I was excited, I think, to have you back - but then you just disappeared and I - started overthinking it as usual.”

Janus couldn’t help but chuckle even if it came out a little sad, “I thought you out of everyone would want to see me the most, you definitely made that very clear in all of our recent interactions.”

“I’m sorry,” Virgil said, readily and without hesitation, “I was awful to you, and it was - it’s no excuse but I only did it because everyone else chose to hate you too I - I was scared I’d lose their respect over it, but - it doesn’t matter now? Because Patton accepted you so - so they’re not going to hate me for liking you, right?”

Virgil lifted his head to look at him, and Janus sighed. 

“You already know that I don’t know the answer to that,” Janus said, “and I’m sure the others will totally just like me without question now that Patton has accepted me.”

Virgil chuckled, “Roman is still mad about the moustache comment.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Janus said, shaking his head, “And I certainly don't expect that Logan isn’t still angry with me about the courtroom.”

“Okay so maybe we- we don’t tell the others about uh - this,” Virgil said, resting his head back on Janus’ chest. 

“I totally know what’s happening right now,” Janus said with a sigh.

“I’m lying on you.” Virgil said, matter of factly, “B’cause you’re cold and strong and nice to lie on.”

“Okay, well this floor is definitely soft and warm and comfortable,” Janus pointed out, “So if you want to continue to lie on me may I suggest we move somewhere that wont give me back problems?”

“Oh right, yeah of course, sorry if I hurt you, when I uh - tackled you, by the way,” Virgil said, almost immediately getting up, looking a little sheepish. 

“It’s fine. Would you like to watch The Black Cauldron?” Janus asked as he sat up, changing the topic, “I think there’s a DVD of it around here somewhere, we could lie on the couch…?”

“You… remember that I like that film?” Virgil asked, sounding oddly quiet, Janus turned from where he had begun walking over to the couch, scrunching up his nose in confusion.

“Of course I don’t,” Janus said, “It’s not like you made us watch it every other week - interchanged with The Nightmare Before Christmas - without fail since Thomas first watched it or anything.”

He couldn’t help but delight in the way that Virgil’s face flushed red, despite him hurrying to join Janus by the couch. 

“I had almost forgotten about that,” Virgil admitted, “I’ve barely watched it since being over here.”

“I haven’t watched it since you left,” Janus sighed, “I highly doubt I remember the plot.”

Virgil smiled tentatively, “I’ll probably fall asleep before it finishes… but… that just means we’ll have to watch it again at some point, right?”

“Of course, let's take this opportunity to watch it now, shall we?” Janus said, summoning the DVD case in one hand whilst offering the other to Virgil. There was a long second of hesitation during which Janus could almost feel his world crumbling around him as Virgil didn’t take his hand, for a second he thought this must have been a trick, to have a relationship he wished for so badly dangled in his face and then snatched away again at the last second.

But no, that couldn’t be right, Virgil might be sarcastic, mean at times, but he wasn’t cruel and he certainly wasn’t dishonest enough to pull such a stunt so sincerely. Which meant…

“Are you alright?” Janus asked gently, taking back his hand. 

“Oh yeah, Yeah i’m okay,” Virgil lied, Janus raised an eyebrow, “Okay fine, no I- when I left I just- sorta maybe convinced myself that you guys hated me and I just- I didn’t expect you to be so… I definitely didn’t expect you to remember my favourite film, or- or want to cuddle while we watched it.”

“It’s not like I expected you to be any kinder towards me,” Janus replied, face going soft, “But… maybe it’s safe to say neither of us actually hate each other?”

Virgil snorted, “Yeah uh- maybe not, I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you,” Janus answered, “And I’m sorry too, honestly.”

There was a second where Virgil just took a deep breath and let it out slowly, “Thank you, I forgive you too.”

“Good,” Janus smiled, putting the DVD into the player before sitting down on the couch, patting the seat next to him in invitation, “Because we’ve missed a lot of weekends - so we’d better make up for all the lost viewing time, hm?”

“I think we’d get bored if we watched it that much,” Virgil couldn’t help but laugh, flopping down on the couch next to him and immediately leaning into his side, and God had Janus missed this. 

“Perhaps,” Janus nodded. 

“Maybe if you actually came to the movie nights we tried to invite you to we’d have more things to watch,” Virgil murmured as Janus pressed play. 

“You tried to invite me to movie nights?” Janus asked, tilting his head. 

“Yeah - we all took turns knocking on your door every time we did one, you never answered.”

“...oh.”

“Now shut up, the film’s starting.”

Neither of them made it halfway through the film before falling asleep in each other’s arms.

-----

Tags: @full-of-roman-angst-trash @your-local-random-dino @cutebisexualmess @glacierruler @roseianxiety @bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti @scalesfeathersnfur @oatmeal-stans-the-trash-rat @littlerat2 @goldnskyart (if anyone wants to be added, let me know!)

[illegal-heartbreaker]

hello! I hope you're having a good life ^_^

i was wondering if you could write a short and sweet story of the reader becoming a new teacher at nevermore and getting to know Larissa better. i'll leave how close they get up to you. thank you!

no rush, and have a great rest of your life <3

Popular {l. weems}

summary: req above !

relationship: larissa weems x fem!reader extra/warning: n/a ____________________

"Ms Y/L/N, will be you be coming to Jericho with us?" A student calls out to you from one of the tables in the courtyard.

"Depends if Principal Weems wants me there." You say sitting down next to Marilyn, raising an eyebrow. Just as you finish your sentence, Larissa walks through the doors.

"Principal Weems! Can Ms Y/L/N come with us too Jericho?" The same voice asks, Looking up from your conversation with your colleague, you lock eyes with your boss.

"She can come if she wants." The question had altered her course and was now on the way over to you and Marilyn. All eyes on you, a defeated look covers your face- you couldn’t turn this opportunity down.

“Fine, I’ll come but only because I need to restock on a few things.” You say loud enough for the students to hear, your response is met with cheers.

“Someone’s popular with the students.” Larissa laughs sitting down opposite you and Marilyn. “That’s what you get when you aren’t much older than them.” You respond, looking over at your boss.

She hums, “the bus will be here in a few minutes, Marilyn will you be coming?”

“Not this time, got detention with a vampire.” She shakes her head “Have fun though.” Finishing off she gets up with a wave and walks over to the ‘Fangs’ table and steals a male student from there.

“Thank you for coming, we were down one teacher.” Larissa tells you, as the both of you start to round up the students and sort them into the two buses.

“It’s alright, haven’t had to time to go to town since I arrived.” You smile at Enid as she waves at you. You look over at the other bus for a fleeting second, seeing the two other chaperones board the bus, you follow their lead and walk through the doors on the bus which the young girl had just gone through, Larissa steps behind you.

“You’ve gone three weeks without going in to town to collect basic living requirements?” She whisper shouts, as you sit down on the window seat.

“Well, yes-“ you admit reluctantly, looking forward to avoid eye contact. “And you didn’t think to come and ask me?” She continues her little rant at your ‘poor hygiene’ and ‘self care.’

“Didn’t think it was important.” You start before getting cut off again. “So you were just going to leave it for another week, if it weren’t for Mr Petropolus?!”

“Larissa! It isn’t that bad, I brought my things from home. I had enough to last me!” You tell her hoping that was enough to get her to shut up. She goes quiet, and you recline in your seat for the last few minutes of the ride.

The few moments of calmness that is given to you on the bus is pulled from you as the voice of the lady next to you starts. “You need to be back here in five hours!No messing around or you’ll be stuck with me because i’ve realised how much you all enjoy being with Ms Y/L/N. Now shoo!”

Moving back to let the students get through, you watch will a small smile, noticing how excited they are. “I need to collect a few things as well, but do you want to meet up at the weathervane around 1 for a drink?” She asks looking at you and then down at her seat as she picks up her purse.

“That sounds lovely. Thank you.” You follow her off of the bus before replying.

“Of course dear, now please for the love of god go get your supplies or I’ll be forced to drag you into each shop and get you them myself.” You roll your eyes at her dramatics before make your journey into the town.

Within time you are able to find what you were looking for and was now strolling leisurely through the bookstore at the midst of town. You had bumped into a fair few of your students who eagerly said hello before running off again with their friends again.

12:55. A glance to your watch confirmed that it was now a sensible time to go find the Weathervane. Not that it was hard to miss, it being in the heart of the town. The door making a soft bell noise announcing your arrival, Larissa raised her head from her phone and waved you over.

“You got your things?” She asks but you can see the pleading behind her eyes. “Yes, I did do not fret.” You giggle at the sigh she releases as you sit down in front of her.

“How about you, got much done?”

“Yes, I was able to squeeze in a few rule remindings to certain students.” She jokes, you instantly knew which student she was talking about. Wednesday Addams.

“She doesn’t realise how lenient her Principal is.”

“Wouldn’t say lenient, maybe hopeful.” She replies, looking down at her phone.

“Is everything okay?” You ask the moment she looks down.

“Yes yes, just a notification from an app!” Flipping her phone quickly so you couldn’t see. You pause for a minute before turning the phone around to check. a sound comes from her mouth, then being clamped shut again.

“Oh? What level are you on?” Your curiosity spiking when you see that the notification was from Candy Crush. Silence is followed, you look up from the screen to see Larissa with her mouth open.

“Level 492.” She mutters, shocked at your reaction. Thinking that it’d would of weirded you out.

“Teach me your ways, I’m stuck on 360!” You beg, making her even more shocked.

“You play?”

“Of course! One of my guilty pleasures.” You confess with a wink.

[poochiray]

Babii v Polca

I want to first start this off by prefacing: I’m a babii first, Tay fan second. So, clearly I have a bias. Take what I say with a grain of salt. But the Babii 24/7 concert blew the Polca Time Traveling concert out of the water.

Stats at a glance. OffGun’s concert lasted 2.5 hours and their group performed 22 songs. TayNew’s lasted a little past 3 hours and they did 25. OffGun had 13 songs they performed together (just them), and each had a solo song. TayNew had 12 songs they performed together (just them), and also each had a solo song. OffGun had 9 different outfits, TayNew had 7. OffGun had 8 guests: Neo, Aungpao, Fourth, and the five members of Lykn. TayNew had 7: Gemini, Ford, Mook, Sing, Janhae, Junior, and Mark. Neither concert’s tickets sold out at the venue, but I want to say OffGun had about 20ish tickets left, and TayNew had 12. They both sold out of their plushie keychain at the venue.

Now onto my analysis. These concerts can easily be broken into three different moments. It’s usually a song, or a transitional phase with music or a fun video clip, followed by chatter to allow for change in set designs and costumes. After watching TayNew’s concert, I am almost positive they had more chatter than OffGun’s. I went back through my recordings of both concerts and these are my findings.

When I timed “chatter” I specifically only counted moments when there was no music. I did not include the fan videos at the end of their shows within that time, but I did count the talking to the audience afterwards. I usually don’t mind chatter but when subtitles are so delayed or inaccurate during a live performance, I tend to lose interest. So for me personally, it can affect how I view the concert flow. 

OffGun had about ~52 minutes of chatter. Of that, there was ~12 minutes dedicated to their OffGun Fun Night segment. Which, if you understand the premise of their show…that’s the whole point. They host a talk show. There’s supposed to be chatter. But to try and be more fair, I did include those 12 minutes in my total time.

TayNew had ~68 minutes of chatter. The difference between their chatter and that of OffGun’s seemed significantly noticeable to me. Perhaps it was because most of the chatter involved was on a blank stage with a wide cast. TayNew got lost in the group for me at times. Whereas OffGun’s longest chatter segment (the OGFN part) was hosted on a bed with Fourth. So it made it more fun and interesting for me.

Which, the bed. This brings me to another point. I feel like OffGun had more time to come up with the concept of their show. They utilized props more. The idea of a convenience store for the 24/7 theme was brilliant. Their hosting of a “ribbon cutting” scene in front of their store to begin their concert was perfect. Then having a shelf with products they could flirt against was a nice touch. I’m trying to remember what outside props TayNew had and can only come up with the Polcasan robot thing, a few chairs, and a picnic bench. It seemed like OffGun gave more consideration to their theme and stuck with it. There were even three songs within their set list that had 24/7 in their lyrics, further bringing up the concert's title.

So, all in all, I’m giving this one to OffGun guys. The concert flow was tight, the songs coincided with their theme, their outfits were above and beyond, props too. I also loved that for their closing song they jumped down from the stage and walked through the audience to sing. To me this added another personal touch and really showed how much they love and appreciate babiis. 

Yes, I’m biased. But there’s a reason for it. I think OffGun are creative geniuses and their concert proved that. 

Will I rewatch TayNew’s concert? No. 

Will I rewatch OffGun’s? Honey, it’s been seven days and I’ve seen it three times already. We already know the answer there. 

[rust-bearer]

OH DAMN, ANOTHER BRAIN MOMENT!! I’ve clogged your inbox enough as it is so from here on out I’m just gonna try to keep it to like… maybe one ask a week LMAO I know your account isn’t exclusively about zombie au stuff. So last one:

I hate to think like this, but… what would happen if one of our precious survivors did end up getting infected? You probably know where I’m going with this, but ohhh shit First Aid’s caretaker instincts and overall fatal drive to support and protect does not benefit him in the long run! At least, not if you go by the black-and-white thinking. I won’t start a whole philosophical debate, so anyway. Let’s say somewhere down the line he gets infected, because…. It’s First Aid, he’d probably try to help someone who they found on the streets who looks “ill” but is actually a zombie in the making and ends up getting bitten, whoops.

There’s definitely a few ways you could go about this. For one, you could be like OH MY GOD IVE BEEN BITTEN *cue zombie transformation*, or you could be like FUCK I’ve been bitten, try to get as far from the house as possible while this awful disease ravages your system within seconds. Or, secret third option, you could do something like the 2017 zombie movie Cargo.

It’s been a while, but if I remember correctly, it was about this dad surviving an apocalypse who had his kid strapped to his back. Like, the kid was 2ish maybe, one of those tiny humans that can fit in the harness you wear over your shoulder and you’re like a human pack mule and your baggage is a child? I dunno what to call them. ANYWAY, if I remember correctly, the zombie transformation process wasn’t immediate. At least, it wasn’t like “five minutes from now I’ll be hungry for flesh.” It might’ve been like an hours thing, maybe more like a days thing?

A chronological process here with that in mind:

1. Say the person he’s trying to heal isn’t infected-infected, like they’re still coherent. If they bite him then, it would obviously infect HIM, too, but I feel like the process would be slower.

2. With that in mind, you just know First Aid realizes exactly how this is gonna go. He’s gonna be zombified sooner or later, there’s no doubt about that. His biggest concern is probably like “how quickly is this gonna happen?” Does he have enough time to get himself and the survivor he’d tried to help away from the farmhouse? Can he inform the Combaticons, maybe the children? Does he have more time than he expects? What’s the process gonna be like? Where does he even start?

3. Thankfully for him (actually not thankfully it’s even more awful this way LMAO), the infection seems a bit more gradual than instant. It’s probably a two, three day process, and throughout the whole thing he just feels so tired, his body feels sore, he feels so hungry, super hungry. At the same time, regular food cooked by Onslaught which is usually the best thing he’s ever tasted is repulsive, nauseating even.

4. Those things aren’t the worst of it, though. First Aid’s BIGGEST problem is the site of the wound itself, which started out as a small bite-shaped puncture wound but has now spread across his ENTIRE arm, causing the skin to go blue and veins to appear and gosh, he couldn’t stop bleeding at first, but now there just isn’t any blood at all, no clotting, nothing. He’s lucky he can still feel that arm, let alone use it, because he can feel his nerves dying out one by one. It doesn’t actually hurt, which is a little surprising. If anything, it just… I don’t know, it’s just like he’s gradually getting less and less aware that he has two arms, not own.

5. Ironically, despite the danger he puts himself and others in, it does take First Aid some time to open up about what happened. Only hours after the incident does the poor survivor fully transform into a flesh-eating, brain-hungry monster, and First Aid doesn’t have the courage to stick around when Brawl heads out back to “take care of the poor guy.” The Combaticon is strangely humane about the entire ordeal, and it makes First Aid feel a little better, but it’s like knowing the day you’re gonna die. There’s nothing you can do, but it’s still haunting.

6. He doesn’t actually end up telling anyone, though… they just sort of find out. First Aid was pretty diligent about keeping the bite wound sanitized and wrapped, despite it doing little to help. He’s more afraid of infecting others via contact with the injury, though, and… well, he still hasn’t gathered the courage needed to open up about what happened. It’s a weird feeling, but one moment First Aid is sitting at the dining room table, staring down at a plate of food he hasn’t touched yet while Vortex and Swindle argue over some unimportant topic, and the next thing he knows, he’s suddenly being pinned to the ground by a very aggressive, very scared Onslaught. It’s hard to tell exactly what had happened at first, but a quick glance at the upturned tables and chairs and Swindle—who’s quite literally quivering in the farthest corner of the room and completely silent for once in his fucking life—tells him exactly what had happened.

7. All of a sudden, everything erupts into poorly controlled chaos. The children who witnessed the incident are crying, First Aid starts crying, Swindle is babbling on about rabies and infections and god knows what, Brawl is struggling to help gather everyone up and out of the room so Onslaught can have some space to work. It takes some time, but he eventually manages to help guide First Aid out of the house and away from the trashed dining room.

8. You could end it all depressingly with First Aid being eliminated but honestly, I hc that they just keep him in the barn or something LMAO. I like the idea that zombies aren’t as aggressive during the day, and if anything, more curious that bloodthirsty. Also, you COULD try to feed him a little something here and there. Maybe not, but like… it’s not out of the question. Vortex takes him on like he’s just another horse living in the stable, and he’s honestly the only one who’s unfazed by First Aid’s tendency to nip at stray fingers. At one point he even suggests pulling First Aid’s teeth to make him less dangerous, but the children lost their minds, so that was quickly turned down. Either way, First Aid is now their little zombie pet, and he’s not going anywhere anytime soon. Sometimes Vortex even takes him out on little walks with a harness and a leash. First Aid doesn’t mind it, for the most part. He even seems to like it, and he especially likes stopping to stand under the shade of trees while Vortex continues training his precious mare.

I’ve always imagined First Aid would be the type of person who would realize he is going to die, and try the very drastic amputation method. Like, if it works, that’s a different topic. But I imagine he would have seen how long it takes to turn, and then gamble on, “if I amputate the area that got bitten, then I can survive” but it would have to be a very very rapid decision.

Ie: realizing he got bitten on the arm, ripping off the clothing there, tying a tourniquet, grabbing whatever sharp object he keeps on him and doing the worlds worst and most horrific amputation. You could make a case that maybe he has medical tools on him that could be used for amputation. But it’s equally likely that he doesn’t. Bonus points if he’s alone, or what if he’s not alone and Vortex has to hold his arm down for him. Ugh. Interesting stuff though!

[crowdvscritic]

round up // JULY 23

Spies! Josh Hartnett! Perfect 10s! They all made multiple appearances in July. This summer has churned out one of the best crop of blockbusters in years, and even though this Round Up is a bit shorter than usual, it’s a stacked lineup. Whether you’re looking for big thrills, big emotion, or big art, July had it all. 

July Crowd-Pleasers

1. Mission: Impossible - Dead Reckoning Part One (2023)

A redux of the 1996 original Mission: Impossible in all the best ways. Whatever you think of Tom Cruise, you can’t deny his commitment to the audience experience. Crowd: 10/10 // Critic: 9/10

2. Operation Fortune: Ruse de Guerre (2023)

This is the kind of movie that you can tell within in three minutes isn’t totally working but it’s hard to tell why. It looks pretty good! There’s loads of style! Jason Statham is one of the best action leads in the biz! Every actor is doing something fun! (Especially Josh Hartnett, validating my major crush in his Pearl Harbor days.) But not a single character has an arc, and we should’ve opened on an action sequence introducing our heroes and villains so we don’t need so much dialogue to explain our characters or the inciting incident. But you know what? Call the butcher because I love a good ham! I had a great time with this cast doing the Guy Ritchie thing, which means I am gonna watch this so hard again on cable.

3. Speak Now (Taylor’s Version) by Taylor Swift (2023)

My attempt to swing last-minute tickets to the Eras Tour in Denver for less than $1000 was a no-go, but the treats that are “When Emma Falls in Love,” “Timeless,” and a Taylor Lautner music video cameo softened that blow. The article “The Unprecedented Weirdness of Taylor Swift” in The Washington Post captures some of the unique joys of her re-recordings.

4. Barbie (2023)

Is Barbie an instant classic? Perhaps it’s too of-this-moment for that kind of longevity, but it’s a comedy that made me laugh so hard I cried and also just that made me cry, which I don’t remember ever happening to me within a single movie before. Read my full review for ZekeFilm, and then be sure to listen to the soundtrack after seeing the movie. Dua Lipa, Charli XCX, Tame Impala, Haim, Billie Eilish, and Ryan Gosling(!!) made some bangers! Crowd: 10/10 // Critic: 9/10

5. Do You Like Apples Podcast

I’ve recommended the Do You Like Apples newsletter, and now I’m recommending Billy Rock and Drew Wendt’s new accompanying podcast. I may be biased since they invited me to join their Barbie discussion, but because I like filling my earbuds with thoughts on Wes Anderson’s oeuvre and the best of Harrison Ford’s career, I’m a regular listener beyond our collab. Listen to our discussion of Barbie and then browse through their rapidly growing feed about the world of movies.

More July Crowd-Pleasers: Airport (1970), Book Club: The Next Chapter (2023), Zoey 102 (2023)

July Critic Picks

1. The China Syndrome (1979)

Another ‘70s conspiracy thriller FTW! Jane Fonda, Michael Douglas, and Jack Lemmon are getting suspicious at a nuclear power plant, and their investigation lands on my lists of favorite journalism films and movies that have made me cry. Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 9/10

2. BlackBerry (2023)

Product-inspired films are still rocking and rolling in 2023, and BlackBerry is one of the best. It owes a lot to The Social Network, but it learned all the right lessons. I would love to see this cast in conversation for Oscars this winter, but until then, the rage-at-the-corporate-machine soundtrack is keeping me going. Crowd: 8/9 // Critic: 9/10

3. Oppenheimer (2023)

On average, me every 7 minutes in this movie: "Oh hey, I love that guy!” This cameo-packed historical epic/biopic is a clearer-eyed version of A Beautiful Mind, and perhaps most impressively doesn’t feel three hours long. The review in The Federalist and Vox’s analysis of the history of nuclear cinema are excellent companion pieces. Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 9.5/10

4. Suddenly by BØRNS (2023)

Like the rest of us, it sounds like BØRNS has been going through some stuff in the last few years. After a five year hiatus, he’s back with his lachrymose synth-pop in a six-track EP. My only complaint? I’m ready for a full album!

5. The French Dispatch by Wes Anderson (2021)

Haven’t I already recommended The French Dispatch as the best film of 2021? Yes, but because I’m a woman of limited interests, I’m now recommending the published screenplay. If you’ve ever wondered just how Anderson and his collaborators create their idiosyncratic stories, reading the complex script gives a new insight into their overlapping minutiae, much of which I missed just by watching.

More July Critic Picks: The Merry Widow (1934), Christmas in July (1940), Some Came Running (1958)

Also in July…

At the start of July, nine writers for ZekeFilm picked our top five movies of the year so far. You can read our individual lists as well as our aggregate top five in our “Best of 2023 (So Far)” piece. 

I checked out Haunted Mansion, which was…at least better than the Eddie Murphy version? Read my review for ZekeFilm, which turned into a long list of theme park-inspired films for Disney, and watch more on KMOV to see me correctly predict that Barbie would dominate the box office yet again.

Thanks to a holiday break, I had a little time to finally add a few Best Picture Project pieces. Keep scrolling on the home page to read reviews of The Apartment (1960), One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest (1975), Rain Man (1988), Dances With Wolves (1990), Million Dollar Baby (2004), and 12 Years a Slave (2013)

Until August wraps, you can follow what I’m watching on Letterboxd and the site formerly known as Twitter

Photo credits: BØRNS, DYLA, The French Dispatch. All others IMDb.com.

[ts1989fanatic]

ts1989fanatic: my kind of headline

When my esteemed colleague Conor Orr made 100 bold predictions for the 2023 NFL season last week, he included one of particular interest to me, Sports Illustrated’s resident Swiftie: Prediction No. 88 is that Taylor Swift will play the Super Bowl LVIII halftime show. That’s something I’ve wanted to see for years. But for the first time, it actually seems kinda, sorta plausible. Swift is in a more reflective phase of her career—in the process of rerecording her first six albums, she’s embarked on the aptly named Eras Tour, a journey through her musical past—but she’s also clearly on top of her game. (Just look at the ticket prices for the aforementioned tour—which, not to brag, I saw at MetLife Stadium, in attendance the same night as Aaron Rodgers.)

Right now seems like the ideal time for her to take on a massive cultural stage like the Super Bowl. It also helps that corporate sponsorship conflicts are no longer present. Pepsi sponsored the halftime show for a decade, whereas Swift is a longtime Coca-Cola spokesperson; Apple Music, which has previously partnered with Swift, became the show’s title sponsor as of the 2022 season. This is the moment. So it’s time to make a hypothetical set list.

I went for 10 songs—the same number Rihanna played at Super Bowl LVII in February. Also following Rihanna’s example, this assumes no major portion of the show will be left for surprise guests, unlike many of the acts in the past few years (apologies to Conor, whose full prediction had Swift sharing the stage with Steve Aoki and BTS). I tried to keep it semirealistic, sticking to hits that feel stadium-friendly, much as I’d die to see a set list of deeper cuts. (For what it’s worth, though, Swift’s current tour through NFL stadiums proves that her acoustic fare can absolutely work in that environment: Look up any video of her playing “My Tears Ricochet” to 75,000 people.) But there are still plenty of tough choices to make even within these restrictions. Swift has nine songs that have gone to No. 1 on the Billboard charts and 40 that have been in the top 10. Her catalog has so much variety that it’s tricky to build a cohesive set that still hits all the major points of her career—from the country twang of her early albums to the slick pop of 1989 to the EDM influences of Reputation to the lush atmosphere of Folklore and Evermore. (There’s a reason her Eras Tour set list is three and a half hours!) But here’s my best shot.

1. “Blank Space”

It’s crucial to get the opener right—not so much the opening song itself, exactly, as the opening lyric. Swift’s discography offers lots of choices here. But this feels like an especially good one. Picture it: “Nice to meet you” echoes through the stadium. The stage is dark; Swift is silent for a beat as the crowd roars. “Nice to meet you” plays again. And then Swift launches into the rest of one of her most ubiquitous hits, “Blank Space,” from 2014’s 1989. It makes sense to start in her pop era: This was the period when Swift first seemed truly inescapable to the general public, when she cemented herself as an icon, proving her staying power. And there’s no better intro to that than the delightfully cheeky, self-aware “Blank Space.”

2. “Anti-Hero”

The synth pop of “Anti-Hero”—Swift’s lead single from 2022’s Midnights—is an easy transition from “Blank Space.” It also quickly anchors her in the present moment, subtly gesturing at the breadth of her catalog, jumping from a song that was popular a decade ago to one dominating the charts now. (“Anti-Hero” is also her longest-running single in the Billboard top 10—28 weeks and counting.) This one has to be right up top.

3. “I Knew You Were Trouble”

The dubstep-infused “I Knew You Were Trouble,” one of Swift’s signature hits from 2012’s Red, will signal the next part of the set list—branching out to some more electronic influences from the middle section of her catalog.

4. “Bad Blood” (feat. Kendrick Lamar)

Even if there isn’t a major portion of the act set aside for guests, there still has to be at least one surprise, and this is a natural one. “Bad Blood” is one of Swift’s biggest tracks, catchy and fun, yet the best part of the song is easily Lamar.

5. “… Ready for It?”

It’s entirely possible that Swift would do a Super Bowl set without anything from 2017’s Reputation, the dark, EDM-tinged follow-up to the massive global success that was 1989. While much loved by fans, Reputation was met with lukewarm critical reception and has fewer iconic hits than several of her other albums. But I think skipping it here would be a mistake: It’s perfect for a stadium show. There are a few solid options for inclusion: “Look What You Made Me Do” was the album’s lead single and the only one to reach No. 1, “Don’t Blame Me” is a fan favorite, “Delicate” also enjoyed considerable success. (My personal favorite from this album is “Getaway Car,” but alas, if Swift didn’t consider it popular enough to make the set list for the Eras Tour, it won’t make it for the Super Bowl.) But I think the best choice here is “... Ready for It?” This is the album opener, and more than anything else on Reputation, it feels like an anthem. It was used as the intro to all of ABC’s Saturday Night Football college broadcasts in ’17 and with good reason: Its production just feels appropriately intense for football.

6. “You Belong With Me”

And now to go back in time to Swift’s country roots. (Much as I’d love a track from her 2006 self-titled debut album—“Picture to Burn,” anyone?—I think it has to be one from its ’08 follow-up, Fearless, which enjoyed more commercial success and was her first to win Album of the Year at the Grammys.) The twangy, fun, teenage pining of “You Belong with Me” is the perfect entry point.

7. “Wildest Dreams/Enchanted”

This is a little more fan-service-y: “Wildest Dreams” peaked on the charts at No. 5, and “Enchanted” was never even a single, despite its popularity a decade after its release as a viral sound on TikTok. But these songs work together so well—Swift played a mash-up of them on her Reputation tour—and it feels like a great way to work in a pair of fan favorites that are still decently recognizable to the general public. They also break up the country portion of the set without offering too dramatic a sonic contrast. Also: “This night is sparkling / Don’t you let it go”? Perfect for the Super Bowl!

8. “Love Story”

In keeping with the romantic vibes of “Wildest Dreams” and “Enchanted,” there’s no better option for the next song than “Love Story,” one of the breakout hits from early in her career.

9. “Karma”

And back to pop to close it out. “Karma” is the closing song of Swift’s current tour set list: It’s a perfect send-off, fun and danceable and great to scream along to. From Midnights, her most recent studio album, it hasn’t quite reached the heights of most of the other songs on this list, but by the time the Super Bowl rolls around in February, it’ll have had more time to establish itself (especially with the remixed version featuring Ice Spice, which just dropped May 26). Great as it is as a closer, though, it can’t end the show here. One more song is needed to round out the set.

10. “Shake It Off”

C’mon … there’s no show without “Shake It Off.”

And because we have eight months to get through before Super Bowl Sunday, here’s my set list on Spotify. Played in full, these songs are 42 minutes, so it would take quite a bit of trimming to get down to 15. But I have a feeling Swift could find a way to make it work (including every one of her iconic bridges here!) with no problem.

ts1989fanatic: I wouldn’t change a thing on this list and what a halftime show it would be.🤞🤞🤞🤞🤞🤞🤞🤞🤞🤞🤞🤞🤞

[destinyimage]

Praying with Holy Spirit: Applying God’s Solutions Over Your Home

Call to me and I will answer you and tell you great and unsearchable things you do not know (Jeremiah 33:3 NIV).

We were standing on the edge of a lookout overlooking the bay area of San Francisco and the Golden Gate Bridge in California.

It is a beautiful sight to behold where you can see the endless trail of cars streaming across the majestic bridge, the rushing rivers of current within the ocean bay below, the mound of Alcatraz Island in the middle of the bay, and the far-stretching hills of San Francisco in the distance. Nate and I had been traveling up California from Los Angeles, partly on a mission of prayer from God and partly on a family holiday (although I’m not entirely sure it could be called a holiday when you have a very determined two-year-old and a limit-testing five-year-old in tow). As I surveyed the beauty of San Francisco before me, my heart grew suddenly sad. I began to feel the weight of the Father’s longing for this state and this city.

I want to stop here for a moment, because this is where many people get stuck. They feel the pain of the Father’s heart over a person, city, or region and pray from that place of pain; or rather, they pray what they see with their natural eyes. What do I mean by that? It is good to feel the pain of the Father’s heart over a situation—that is the mark of intimacy and even intercession—but here is where we get to lean into Him further and ask Him what His intentions are. I like to ask Him, “What do You see beyond this current pain I see, Father? What is Your heart intention for this person or place that You love? What was the picture You had in mind when you created them?” We must learn to pray into the answers He sees. When Jesus was prophesying about His betrayer at the last supper, it says:

Then Jesus was moved deeply in his spirit. Looking at his disciples, he announced, “I tell you the truth—one of you is about to betray me.” Eyeing each other, his disciples puzzled over which one of them could do such a thing. The disciple that Jesus dearly loved was at the right of him at the table and was leaning his head on Jesus. Peter gestured to this disciple to ask Jesus who it was he was referring to. Then the dearly loved disciple leaned into Jesus’ chest and whispered, “Master, who is it?” “The one I give this piece of bread to after I’ve dipped it in the bowl,” Jesus replied (John 13:21-26).

It is the lovers of God, those who lean in close to Him, who are the ones entrusted to ask the questions and are given the secrets of His heart. John could have made an assumption and pointed the finger at any number of the disciples, but instead he asked. John was one of the three who was taken up to the mountain where Jesus was transfigured before their eyes. Even though Peter was with him, Peter evidently still had issues when it came to trust. If he hadn’t, he likely would not have ended up in the situation where he betrayed Jesus with his words just hours later. John was the one disciple who endured the horrors of the cross, remaining at the side of Jesus to the end. Why? He had become accustomed to abiding in His presence, and in doing so he had grown confident in his identity as a son of God. As a result, he was comfortable to lean on Jesus and confidently ask Him difficult questions. This kind of boldness is necessary if we are to effectively walk in prophetic prayer and release His solutions in the earth. “So now we come freely and boldly to where love is enthroned, to receive mercy’s kiss and discover the grace we urgently need to strengthen us in our time of weakness” (Heb. 4:16).

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Abiding in His presence gives us bold courage to come before Him, not in timidity. I used to do this—I would come before Him timidly and beg Him to help me. “Oh, please help me. Please help this situation I am in. Please do something.” While there is nothing wrong with asking for His help, I believe God’s design for us is not to pray as orphans begging Him to do something but as sons and daughters who are confident in His faithfulness that He has solutions for the problems we face. On the other hand I have seen many pray the pain of the problem over a situation: “God, rain down Your fiery judgement over this evil city.” When we know mercy’s kiss for ourselves, we know how to extend mercy’s kiss in our prayers. When we perceive that God is a God of fire and brimstone, our prayers become plagued with the very thing the enemy wants—death and destruction. Notice that verse says, “We come boldly where love is enthroned.” We receive the answers of His kingdom in His love. His answers are always built on the foundation of love, so why, under His New Covenant, would His answer for a sinful city be to destroy it? The same principle applies for people. This is why abiding in His presence is the foundation for the solutions of God. We must know His heart; we must be able to receive His love and His mercy in our own lives before we can adequately extend it to others and the world around us. His kingdom is both love and justice, but under the reign of the New Covenant, the cross and resurrection, the covenant of grace, mercy, and redemption, Jesus becomes the kiss of mercy to a dying and hurting world. He invites us to come and sit with Him at His mercy seat, and there we can boldly ask Him the answers that are on His heart for that which grieves Him. It is easy to look at a person, place, or situation through the eyes of judgement, but it is even easier to ask Him, “What do You see?” and partner with His heart, where His mercy triumphs over judgment (see James 2:13). Rather than praying over the problem and begging God for a solution or calling down His judgment, we get to boldly come before Him and have Him share the secret solutions that are stored up in heaven for the problems around us.

This is why in John 15:15 Jesus says, “I have never called you ‘servants,’ because a master doesn’t confide in his servants, and servants don’t always understand what the master is doing. But I call you my most intimate friends, for I reveal to you everything that I’ve heard from my Father.” In abiding in the habitation of God, we grow in intimate friendship with Him, and it is in this habitation that His secret solutions for the earth are revealed. When that secret is revealed, He doesn’t just show you to give you a piece of information, but He expects you to do something with it. This is where prophetic prayer is released. It is conceived out of intimate love and friendship with the King of all kings and it is birthed into the earth through your love for Him.

As I stood overlooking the sun-glistened city of San Francisco and feeling the grief of His heart, I quietly asked Him, “Father, what are You wanting to do here? What is Your heart for this city and state?” It was a quick moment, a glimpse of a second, because I was holding my wriggling toddler and trying to prevent her inquisitive little eyes and hands from climbing up and over the cascading rock face below us. As I set her back down, out of the corner of my eye I saw the edge of a giant brown wing. I flung around to see what it was, and as I looked up, not ten feet above us were three enormous eagles that had descended upon the area where we were standing. They were circling in perfect unison above the car park and were swooping down, almost as though in a dance, much to the initial delight, turned shock-horror for us and the tourists around us. People began picking up their children, including me, because the sheer size of these birds was both awe-inspiring and terrifying. I kept envisioning my little toddler being picked up in one of their talons and being carried off into the sky above. That might sound like an impossible scenario, but they were evidently hungry and I was not about to find out the likeliness of that imagination. Nate and I quickly made our way to our rental car with both girls in tow, and once they were both locked safely into their car seats with snacks to occupy them, I was able to sit outside the car door for a moment, taking in the beauty and sheer enormity of these eagles.

It didn’t immediately strike me that these birds were a prophetic answer to the question I had just asked God. Yet as I took photos, I knew something about this was profound as they continued to circle around and around, just above the Golden Gate Bridge. Sometimes, it felt as though they were close enough to touch, and after about five minutes, two more eagles joined the three. Something felt significant about this. All the tourists at this site were no longer looking out upon the views of San Francisco and the Golden Gate Bridge, but rather, their eyes like mine were to the sky, watching these five eagles encircle us. As we got back in our car and Nate drove us toward Redding, I browsed through the pictures of the eagles that I had just taken. Being from Australia, I wasn’t familiar with their species, so I zoomed in and began looking up their identifiable features. As it turns out, they were golden eagles, and I later had them con- firmed by multiple sources. When I realized they were golden eagles I recognized the profound, unmistakably prophetic place that we were standing. We were overlooking what is known as “the Golden City,” at the Golden Gate Bridge, in the “Golden State” with three and then five golden eagles encircling us. I began to take the pieces of this experience and ask the Holy Spirit what He was saying in response to what I had asked.

It is the Glory of Kings to Search Out A Matter

All too often, we write off moments like this as a natural coincidence. I want to encourage you that as you open the doors wide to the secret place of His presence, to also ask the Holy Spirit to open your eyes to see the miracles and messages within your day- to-day that many, otherwise, miss. God is always speaking. Always. We often think He is silent, but as I have learned, it is in the silence of familiarity where He wants us to discover other ways that He is already speaking to us. The Holy Spirit is fun and adventurous. Jesus said this important statement to His disciples in Matthew 18:3-4:

Learn this well: Unless you dramatically change your way of thinking and become teachable, and learn about heaven’s kingdom realm with the wide-eyed wonder of a child, you will never be able to enter in. Whoever continually humbles himself to become like this gentle child is the greatest one in heaven’s kingdom realm.

I love that phrase—“learn about heaven’s kingdom realm with the wide-eyed wonder of a child.” This journey of releasing the prophetic solutions of His heart into the earth is not meant to be a boring, serious one, but rather a fun, adventurous discovery of the Father, His purposes, and His ways. Have you ever had to get somewhere quickly with a child in tow? You will know that they don’t take the normal route that us boring adults usually do. They stop and find the details. They jump up on the sidewalk, they skip, run, and play to their destination rather than just walking in a stiff, straight line. I could be rushing to load groceries in the car to get back home in time for an important call, and my two daughters will notice the ladybug in the bush next to our parked car and cause me to stop and pause with them for a moment. They see the details of God. They stop and notice. I believe the Father is calling you and me to stop and notice His whispers. Remember the scripture we read in the first chapter:

God conceals the revelation of his word

in the hiding place of his glory.

But the honor of kings is revealed

by how they thoroughly search out

the deeper meaning of all that God says (Proverbs 25:2).

God conceals the revelation of His Word, which is the revelation of Jesus, in the hiding place of His glory. Here we have it confirmed again; the secrets and longings of His heart, the revelation of His answers, all that He is, and all that He has is revealed in the secret place of His presence—His glory, His habitation. When we begin to search out and open our eyes to what He is speaking, it becomes the honor of our life to find and release the answers of His heart into the earth around us.

With these eagles, I began to search out the scripture and found that the eagle can prophetically represent a prophet or one who prophesies the answers of God into a situation. “You yourselves have seen what I did to Egypt, and how I carried you on eagles’ wings and brought you to myself” (Exod. 19:4 NIV). This verse spoke to me of San Francisco and the Golden State of California, how it has been held in the grips of slavery (referring to the Israelites in slavery in Egypt) under the tyrant rule of the enemy. Next, I researched the Hebrew numbers of three and five, which was the number of eagles that encircled where we were. The number three in scriptures points to the Godhead, completion, perfection, divine fullness, and resurrection. Number five prophetically points to the grace of God, His abundance, His favor, and redemption.

What was God speaking through this encounter? As the eagles encircled, it was a picture to me of His Spirit hovering over the waters of the earth in Genesis 1:2. He was showing me He was hovering over the state of California and the city of San Francisco, waiting on the prophetic word to be released. He is longing to carry them on His wings and bring them unto Himself. Through prophetic prayer, God was going to encircle the two with Himself and bring them into a state of perfection, completion, divine fullness, and resurrection. His heart for California and San Francisco is to pour out His grace in abundance upon their wounds, revealing His favor and bestowing His redemption. This state, this city, was aptly named the Golden State and Golden City for a reason, it is the golden state in His eyes. I believe the California gold rush prophetically declares another gold rush to come—a weightier gold rush of His glory.

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[angelamajiki]

PARINGS: Shouta Aizawa x Reader

CW: yandere, stalking, rape/noncon, pain kink, pain play, mild scent kink, home invasion, gags, restraints, virginity kink, scumbag aizawa, pet play, humiliation, cum stuffing, fingerings, snowballing, voice kink

SYNOPSIS: You have been calling the same phone sex operator for months, creating stalker and CNC fantasies. What happens when he rings true to his words?

AN: this is very dark, be warned! just had to make a fic out of the little idea I had <3

It’s always you who requests him. He can tell you're a virgin, the way your voice wavers when you feel like responding to him. Sometimes you don’t, letting your breathy moans do the talking for you.

“Good little girl.”

“Getting off to a phone call from your stalker? What a whore.”

“Cum for me, pretty girl.”

”Do you like that, pretty little kitty?”

He never had a knack for giving nicknames, but he had to make it known that he remembers you. Remembers that voice. Hopefully, he’ll be able to remember your body one day.

Tracking you down was easy enough; you didn't bother to block your number and public records was just calling his name. God did he love untouched girls like yourself. So wet and pliant, so easily manipulated, so naive to believe everyone had good intentions.

Cameras were placed around your house so he could watch you when he couldn't hear you. If it was a stalker you wanted, he was going to give it to you.

You called often and asked for him always—such an obedient girl. The live feed from your bedroom streamed in front of him whenever you rang, but he was tired of playing games this week.

“Just look at the way you’re kneading yourself; you like to tease yourself. Don't you, kitty?”

Your breath hitched, but he knew it wasn't from pleasure. Looking around, he chuckled at your confused expression.

“You got a real cute face, you know that kitty? I can't wait to fuck it one day.”

Be rational, you told yourself. Its all part of the fantasy, right? He can’t actually see you.

“That’s a cute bed spread you got there, I didn’t take you for the type who liked lilies. You always keep roses in your kitchen vase.”

Okay, he was definitely listening to you now.

“Say, you live on 14th Street, don't you? Why don't I come down and give you an in person session?”

“What do you say, kitty? Or should I just break in like I always tell you I would?”

The phone hung up after that comment. Sure, you were up to the fantasy of being stalked and raped; that’s why you called him. It was too embarrassing to tell a partner your fantasies, not like you had one. Or roommates for that matter.

His voice is what soothed you after a hard day, but now it kept ringing in your ears. Listening to his breathy chuckles sent shivers down your spine, but you never expected to feel them there.

Three raps came from your bedroom door before it opened. You were buried in your sheets, hopelessly, desperately attempting to be asleep. Like that would stop him.

“I know you're awake.”

An “ah” of realization came from him.

“Unless you sleeping peacefully is part of the fantasy. This is new, but I can indulge you in that kitty.”

The bed dipped and creaked with his weight, fear sinking into your heart further as a hand smoothed itself over your shoulders.

“So tense.” He tutted. “I’ve got something that can help you relax.”

His tongue lapped at the outer shell of your ear; arm slung over your blanketed body.

“Such a naughty girl. Tell me, how many times did you get off to the sound of my voice telling you I was going to take your virginity by force.”

A hand snaked its way up to your throat, squeezing gently enough not to cause pain but enough to cut off part of your air.

“Tell me you want me to rape you, here and now. Or I’ll take you out to the alley and make a display of it.”

His voice barely reached above of a whisper the entire time, the same soft sound he used over the phone. Hot breaths tickled your ear and neck as you squirmed, gasping at straws for air.

“I promise to be gentle; I know you like a tender man who takes what he wants.”

Your throat restricted even more under the hand to the point where you felt light-headed.

“Please!” You gasped, using your nails to scratch at his wrapped fingers. The pressure withdrew.

“Please what, kitty? C’mon, you can do it.”

“P-Please rape me.”

A sharp laugh came from behind you.

“Is that any way to address me? I thought we were using special nicknames here.”

He let you have your moment, apparently amused to see you choke for air as he stroked your back.

“Please rape me...sir.”

“Atta girl.”

The hand made its way back to your throat, only resting there as the thumb stroked over your tender flesh. The other one snuck under the blanket and groped at your chest.

“You're a virgin, aren't you, kitty? Don't worry; your owner is going to talk you through it. Nice and slow so you feel everything I'm giving you.”

Fingers wiggled their way under your bra and began pinching at your nipples, tugging and pulling at the hardening nubs.

“Stop squirming, or I’ll have to tie you up. You'll get your treat soon enough, kitty.”

You yelped after a particularly rough tug, tears springing in your eyes. His one hand managed to rip your bra apart, giving better access to his perverted fingers.

“I know you like it, the way I knead your pretty little breasts. Come, take your clothes off. I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

Everything came off before he instructed you to stand at the edge of the bed for him. He circled you like a predator, making inspections.

“I have to make sure my kitty is well-groomed and taking care of herself.”

The weight of his hot breath on your skin weighed down on you, pulling you further under his spell. He lifted your arms and smelled your scent.

“Lavender deodorant? What a shame; I wished I could have smelled your natural musk.”

Humiliation flushed your face hot. Disgusting pervert, it seemed he was into everything as long as it wasn't consensual.

“Sit down on the bed, legs spread.”

The baritone of his voice shook you to your core, but not in the pleasurable way you're used to.

“Don't make me ask twice, pet.”

His command was hard to ignore after following them for such a long time; it was practically instinctual to do as you were told. Shaking legs spread as you turned your head to the side. Another tut rolled off his tongue as he gripped your cheeks with one hand.

“Don't turn away from me. I want to see the look in yours when I take you and make you mine.”

You hadn't even realized before that he had brought a bag with him. From it, he took a bar spreader, rope, and a spider gag, all of which he put on you. The gag made your mouth uncomfortably wide, leaving nothing to his imagination.

Rough fingers pull you tongue from your mouth, his own coming down to lick at before spitting down the back of your throat.

“Swallow.”

You did.

“Good kitty.”

The name didn't comfort you anymore. Nothing about him comforted you anymore. Not his voice, not his nickname, and certainly not his breath, which you felt like was burning all over your body.

“I’m going to be nice and leave your throat alone today. However, if I give you a treat, you will swallow it. Do I make myself clear?”

You nodded, terrified at the notion that he intended to come back after tonight. Crouching down in front of you, he inspected your wet pussy before spitting on it as well. Gingerly moving your lips, he circled your tight hole and stood up.

“That should do.”

Watching him undress himself seemed to make time move slower, knowing that he was about to take your virginity within minutes. His hard cock sprung out from his boxers and hit his happy trail, bobbing slightly against his abs. Not only was this man toned, but he was also huge.

“In we go, kitty.”

Not even taking the courtesy to gather some slick from you, he pushed in, taking his sweet time as he locked eyes with you. He went agonizing slow, grinning as you wailed in pain.

“Hurts, doesn't it? Let's see how painful we can make this.”

You were hardly prepped, only having wetness left behind from your previous phone call. It stung, and it stung bad. Your eyes wept as you looked up at him with a pleading gaze, hoping he would take mercy on you. He did no such thing, pinching your clit between his fingers and rolling it with intense pressure. Moaning, he watched as you convulsed and twitched in pain beneath him.

“Being such a good girl for me, kitty.”

Another glob of spit landed in the back of your throat, making you gasp and choke on your sobs. He loved that you were an ugly, messy crier. It only served to make his dick harder.

Once he bottomed out, he stayed there for a while, letting you feel the fullness of his thick cock.

“The name’s Shouta, by the way. I'm sure you must have been curious.”

He spoke so casually, so calmly. It made you furious how collected he was while you were a whimpering, sniffling mess.

“Don't worry; we’ll have all the time in the world once we’re done to get to know me.”

Goddamn, that voice. That hypnotizing, nauseating voice. It's the reason you're stuck here underneath a fucking phone sex operator that turned out to be your stalker. What a mess.

A tap to the temple pulled you back to the present.

“Keep your focus here, kitty.”

Hips drew back and snapped into you, not letting you take a moment to adjust as he set a brutal speed.

Oh, how you wished you could leave your body, but if anything, your senses were all the more enhanced, taking in every last drop of your surroundings. The sounds of the bed creaking under his pounding, his grunts and breaths, the skin slapping against skin, your own cries of misery. The feeling of his breath, how your once silk sheets now felt like sandpaper across your skin, the metal of your binds, and the burn of your rope. Everything and nothing all at once.

The minutes seemed to draw themselves out into hours as he continued his assault. He, or Shouta, you supposed, wasn't lasting very long. It didn't suit him; he seemed like a man of stamina. Maybe it was because he played out a sick fantasy of his that made him cum in minutes.

Unprotected, he came deep inside you before sliding out, giving your pussy a slap as he made his exit.

“Such a tight little kitty you've got there.”

Fingers at the ready, he stuffed his cum back inside you, toying with your clit all the while. He was quick to make you cum, making you see stars at the intensity of your orgasm.

“Don’t worry; I'll make you cum on my cock next time. I have plenty of games planned for us when I take you home.”

Pulling his fingers out, he pushed them down your throat to clean them before getting up and dressed again. He left you there, tied up and gone without a word.

In reality, he was just getting his car ready for you, but who was he to deny himself the pleasure of seeing your panicked face when he came back?

You were going to make a fine pet for him.

[circa-specturgia]

Prometheus - Prologue

Sol 180

The video feed began, showing someone moving around in the corner of the screen, some unintelligible voices speaking softly before a woman wearing a black t-shirt and matching hijab came into view. Her eyes were slightly red, puffy, sitting down in the seat in the pure white room, before pulling up a hovering blue screen to check the recording, dismissing it with a flick of the wrist and focusing on the camera again.

“This is Ada Zaman. Captain of the Prometheus I Centauri mission… Captain of the New Vanatean Watch.”

At this second sentence she hesitated, bringing her hands to her face in a shaky sigh, staying like this for a few minutes, silent. The camera would chime every few seconds like a heartbeat. She slid her hands away, breathing in and out before speaking again.

“Today is… Today’s mission day sol 180.” She choked on the last part, glancing away for a moment before continuing.

“The day our mission was set to be completed. The day we were supposed to be home.” Stopping for a second, she checked the time. “4:42 AM. We’d have descended from orbit… 7 hours ago, give or take.”

Leaning back, she looked upwards, not looking into the camera.

“We last heard from earth in the final message on Sol 9 in plutonian orbit, so that’s… 171 sols ago.”

She pulled her legs up onto the seat, wrapping her arms around the knees, the hovering chair turning ever so slightly.

“I’m scared, Angjelko. Martin.” The voice was barely audible in the recording, mumbled through her arm.

“You… Nothing like this happened in all of Mars. Harmonia had it’s hardships but… nothing that could’ve prepared us for this. How’d you keep your eyes on the stars when you felt like the world was going to crumble under your feet?”

The captain sighed after a moment, wiping her tears.

“I’m sorry. You taught me not to be emotional, to keep a cool head, focus on the mission… You taught all of us that, and you’d be so proud of everyone for how they’ve managed all this.” She said, her voice cracking as she spoke again: “But today it just all…”

She sobbed, pointed ears twitching slightly under the black fabric , looking to the door as though to make sure that nobody was there, continuing softly and not meeting her camera.

“Basil cries. Neo and Kida too. I think everyone does, just not when I can see. Leo and Sun-Jin, I feel like they're finding other ways to deal with it. We’re… It’s nothing like the books we grew up on. Vanatea, the Kyyrz, all these moons and planets and ruins and beings… They don’t leave you when you close your eyes.”

“The incident on CN-3 was bad. RS-7… was worse. I don’t think anyone’s rested easy since Eothir.” She swallowed, biting back a grim laugh: “If we didn’t program PI with fear, I’m pretty sure it learned it from this place.”

Sitting up, she covered her eyes again, before exhaling heavily, looking at the camera again this time.

“I can’t promise my crew home. I can’t give them that. But I swear on my life that I’ll make sure that we stay together. I’ll keep them alive.” She said, eyes burning with a drive to spite the universe, markings under her eyes turning glowing white, an ever so slightly audible growl underlying her voice. “I’ll protect them.”

She stood up, reaching for the camera button, a slight waver in her tone muscled down by a grim determination, as she shut off the feed.

“Concluding Captains Log. Sol 180. Ada Zaman, Captain of the Prometheus I Centauri mission and Captain of the New Vanatean Watch. Out.”

So. I finally got to work on Prometheus. Technically, I could have had the first three chapters out on here within the first week of making this blog a few months ago. Already had em done. But I’m glad I didn’t. Instead, it let me rethink the whole of the plot, move forward the start point significantly.

Up to Sol 180, from Sol 7.

Of course, that doesn’t mean I’ll be skipping over the rest entirely, the 180 sols leading up to this prologue have some of the favorite moments I’ve planned out, which I’ll be coming back to in scenes! I’ve got the whole mission plan and the events from Sols 1 - 75 down already, so maybe I’ll do some scenes from there next… Hope you enjoyed! ✨

Prometheus/SciFi Taglist: @tryingtimi @keyboardandquill @athenswrites @the-void-writes @bloodlessheirbyjacques @agrimedena-drax @queensummer Let me know if you’d like me to add you!

[violettelueur]

— JUJUTSU KAISEN EPISODE TWO || FOR MYSELF

↳ featuring : itadori yuji + fushiguro megumi + gojo satoru + ryomen sukuna from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : mentions of violence and EXTREME grammar issues

↳ form : story

↳ published : 09 february

↳ pronouns : she/her

↳ word count : 3.0k

↳ synopsis : within the jujutsu world, there were three famous clans to be aware of, the Kamo clan, Zenin clan and the Gojo clan. However, unknown to many sorcerers there was one last family that was known to be apart of the three, only for them to disappear after the golden era leading some to speculate that they had died in battle after the sealing of ryomen sukuna, but....

↳ previous episode : ryomen sukuna

↳ next episode : girl of steel

↳ barista’s notes : since you loved the first one so much, i decided to do episode two for you guys ╲ʕ·ᴥ·　╲ʔ also i am now addicted to genshin impact and right now, i am on adventure rank 19 and already cleared the ‘stormterror lair’ thing ʕ ㅇ ᴥ ㅇʔ i hope you enjoy this cup of classic black coffee (jujutsu kaisen) and come again soon!

BEFORE READING, I NEED YOU TO BE AWARE OF THIS:

1. the whole story belongs to Gege Akutami and the credits go to them and them only

2. the spell curses used belong to Tite Kubo due to them being the ‘Kidos’ being used on the manga and anime ‘Bleach’

3. this whole thing might be confusing and please don’t expect a part three because i will do it when i am ready or feel like i can at the right time ʕ ᵒ ᴥ ᵒʔ

4. i don’t know, if i am going to add this onto my masterlist since this was just for fun to be honest!

“What’s the situation?” 

All of a sudden, a new voice came into the area leading you to turn your head to the side to find a rather tall male standing next to Fushiguro. From a quick glance, you could immediately inform yourself that had spiky white hair with a black blindfold covering his eyes, as he carried a paper bag on his arm while wearing a similar outfit to Fushiguro meaning he was another sorcerer.

“Gojo-sensei?! Why are you here?” Fushiguro asked in surprise, as he turned to look at what you assumed to be his teacher leading to the shadows around him to immediately disappear from sight.

“Gojo…” you muttered under your breath as you looked at the two male sorcerers right in front of you in horror as you came to the realisation of the situation you were facing.

‘Mother…..I’ve been found…..’

                                                   ꕥ

“Hey!’ the teacher cheerfully greeted while waving an arm to his student as a short greeting. “I wasn’t planning on coming, but man, you’re roughed up,” Gojo explained, before leaning forward as if he was taking a closer look at Fushiguro to which then caused lead to his hand to go into his pocket as he proceeded to pull out his mobile phone. “I should show the second years, face this way!” the sorcerer playfully stated as he began to take a multitude of photos of the ‘roughed up’ student, leading to the subject of his images to turn away while covering his face with his arm.

Looking at the scene with anxiety looming above you like a rainy cloud, you swiftly turned your head back to see if you could find a way out without both of them as well as Itadori noticing as they were distracted for the time being.

‘Shit, the only way I can escape is either jumping from this floor or going through the large gap behind me, but that’s gonna make them notice. What am I going to do?!’

“Ah! Miss, I know you are already there, so no need to escape!” Gojo suddenly stated, causing you to quickly turn back with widened eyes - surprised at the fact that he knew what was on your mind - to find the teacher waving at you with the same greeting he gave to Fushiguro as if he had known you for some time, like an old friend one would say.

‘Ah…..what a drag….’ you thought, as you then carefully picked up the katana that had landed in front of you when the curse was exorcised before slowly sliding it back into the casing that was behind your back.

“The higher-ups wouldn’t such up with a special-grade cursed object gone missing, so I stopped by while doing some sightseeing,” Gojo explained while looking down his phone like he was checking something when in your mind, you assumed that he was going through the photos that he took of Fushiguro due to his jolly smile that was displayed on his face.

‘Maybe, if you damn sorcerers got the cursed object sooner before the damn protective seal was ripped off, WE WOULDN’T BE IN THIS SITUATION!’ you argued in your head, as you slowly began to realise the reasonings why your mother never took a liking to the higher-ups, to begin with.

‘Those higher-ups are so useless, all they do is command other sorcerers to do their dirty work while acting if they are superior dear. If I could, I would kill all of them’

“So, did you find it?” the blindfolded teacher asked, as he looked up from his device only for your schoolmate to interrupt the sorcerer’s conversation as he raised up his hand in a guilty manner. “Um...Sorry, but I ate it,” Itadori confessed, as he then pointed to himself to emphasise the statement leading Fushiguro to look down to the floor in what seemed to be in shame while Gojo turned to look at Itadori with a shocked expression.

“For real?” Gojo asked, trying to make sure that it wasn’t some sort of joke.

“For real,” Itadori and Fushiguro answered simultaneously, confirming that it wasn’t a joke at all.

In a complete rage, you slowly made your way towards your schoolmate before grabbing his shoulders with as much might as you could as you then turned him around to face you. 

“I don’t know who broke that damn seal I placed on that stupid little hut, but maybe if you haven’t taken that finger, we wouldn’t be in this situation where these two dumbass sorcerers would be in our lives right now!!” you screamed in frustration leading to the two mentioned sorcerers to look at you with dumbfounded looks painted on their faces while Itadori just peered at you with an extremely surprised expression.

During the school hours, Itadori had seen you a few times around the hallways and in his class when you had to collect something for another teacher. From what he could read off, you were the calm and collective type, someone who was on top of their academics while being able to maintain close relationships with other students between the three-years that Sugisawa Municipal Highschool offered. Even though you came off a bit blunt from time to time when calling something or someone a ‘drag’, the students liked that from you since that meant you were being honest to them as well as to yourself, just like the time when you surprised everyone when you rejected being part of the school’s council's committee much to the President’s begging. 

“But...shouldn’t you like sorcerers since you seem like one?” Itadori questioned with a confused tone, leading you to look at him with a rather both understandable but irritated expression which caused him to be nervous somewhat due to you being out of character.

“Just because I am one, doesn’t mean I like any of them!” you counted back, as you pointed towards the direction of Fushiguro and Gojo before continuing with “it was such a drag when Fushiguro was here this afternoon and it’s more of one now that two of them are here!” as you then let go of his shoulders before turning away to lean against the crooked metal balcony to relax your vocal cords after screaming so much.

Taking the opportunity, Gojo leaned to the side as if he was inspecting Itadori like he was painting before coming closer to the teenage boy with his hand on his chin as if he was thinking what he could do now. “Hehe, damn, it really did combine with you. That’s hilarious,” Gojo amusingly stated, causing you to turn back to look at the scene with a dumbfounded expression on his face.

‘What is hilarious about the situation right now? This isn’t something to find assuming Gojo’

“Anything off with your body?” Gojo questioned, after straightening his back leading itadori to inspect his body for a quick few seconds.

“Not particularly,” Itadori answered.

“Can you swap out with Sukuna?” Gojo then asked, leading you to then fully turn back to look at the special-grade sorcerer with extreme confusion and astonishment as you begin to wonder what hit Gojo’s head before coming here to the school.

“Sukuna?” Itadori confusingly stated as he looked at Gojo with a perplexed expression.

“The curse you stupidly ate,” you quickly answered, as you gave Itadori a serious glance before letting out a sigh of frustration leading Fushguro to quickly tug your arm as you dropped down to his height before you snatched your arm back, worried about what the Zenin relative would do to you.

“Oh…Yeah, I think I can do that,” Itadori clarified, as he placed his hand on his hip before giving a nod to emphasise this statement.

Stepping back, Gojo suddenly began to stretch in a weird position, which suddenly reminded you of a certain baseball player, but you couldn’t recall who before stating with confidence, “then give us ten seconds, once ten seconds are up, come back to us.”

‘Great, I’m going to die young…” you jokingly thought, as you looked to the side with a grim look as if you were staring at the death ripper at this very moment in time.

“But..” Itadori wavered, as he started to be concerned about Gojo's request since he didn’t know what damage Sukuna could do or how the teacher was going to be at the end of it. “Don’t worry, I’m the strongest,” Gojo confidently stated, leading to another grim look to appear on your face, as you were getting annoyed at his constant confidence even though you knew he had the right to be.

“Megumi, hold on to this,” Gojo demanded before throwing the bag towards his student, leading to the catcher to catch it with his hands before looking down on the paper bag with curiosity.

“Megumi?” you quietly questioned as you suddenly discovered that the sorcerer next to you had a feminine name - since it was quite rare to hear a male have a name that was generally used for the female gender. 

“What is this?” Fushiguro asked before his teacher stretched his arms right in front of both of you before answering, “Kikufuku from Kikusuian! It’s Sendai’s speciality, and it’s super good! I recommend the zunda and cream flavour!”

‘So...this man bought mochi when people here were dying, ah...that was dumbass~’

“It’s not a souvenir, I’m going to eat it on the bullet train home,” Gojo stated as if he needed an explanation for his actions. However, what got your full attention was the black markings that were gradually coming onto Itadori’s skin before he suddenly jumped up into the air while Gojo was still explaining his reasoning for this purchase.

“Uh Oh~” you commented, as you stared at the sky with widened eyes before Fushiguro screamed for his teacher’s attention at the curse directing an attack from behind. However, it seemed like his teacher wasn’t fazed on second as he continued explaining the reason why he bought the mochi, “Kikufuku’s not like other souvenirs…”

‘I THOUGHT YOU SAID IT WASN’T A SOUVENIR!’ you screamed in your mind before ducking your head down as Itadori’s body finally crashed back to the ground, trying to make sure that the debris didn’t blind you at all. Quickly looking back up to check what was happening, you suddenly came into eye to eye contact with a bright shade of ruby mixed with a hint of malevolence. You came to the realisation that it was Sukuan who was now in front of you while Gojo was casually sitting on his hack like a horse.

“And the whipped cream inside is simply exquisite..” Gojo continued talking, causing you to give off a confused expression on what really was going on inside the special-grade sorcerer’s mind and what his main priority was right now. Suddenly, Sukuna made a 180 degree turn to aim for another attack, yet the second Gojo clasped his hands together, he once again missed and as well as the other attacks he tried to execute.

Unexpectedly, Gojo appeared behind Sukuna’s back before leaning back to say something within his ear, “my student and a little sorcerer’s watching, so I’m going to show off a little.” Instantaneously, Gojo disappeared once again before grabbing the curse vessel’s arm as he then processed to hit Sukuna’s face with his arm, leading to Itadori’s body to slightly fling itself up in the air.

‘What is he manipulating? Time? No, that’s not it….is it like a vacuum? But that means he would be controlling empty space with no particles…’

Suddenly, you slightly noticed the slight manipulated on the air as Gojo’s arm begins to swing leading you to come to the conclusion that Gojo’s cursed technique might be the control of space at an atomic level, leading to a massive pressure to hit the King of Curses as his body smashed into the only part of metal railing that wasn’t bent.

“For crying out loud, you jujutsu sorcerers are always trouble, no matter what era!” Sukuna declared as he, once again, jumped into the air while somehow carrying massive pieces of the broken wall along with him before slamming down at Gojo’s direction. “Though that doesn’t mean much to me,” Sukuna arrogantly stated, with a smirk on his face as some of the windows processed to smash. 

However, the second the thin debris started to clear up, Sukuna’s expression quickly twisted into shock as a brightly lit barrier enclosed his opponent, yet he wasn’t the one that had a surprised expression on his face. Turning back around, Gojo found you kneeling next to Fushguro with a flat palm on the ground as your curse energy flowed down to the ground as if the box just didn’t just end on the ground that they were standing on right now.

“This is such a drag,” you muttered before standing up straight as you observed the walls making sure that there wasn’t a single crack when the rocks could have hit. “Seven, eight, nine, ten,” you counted and right on time there was a sudden change in curse energy pressure around you leading you to come to the conclusion that Itadori was now switching back, surprising Sukuan once again at the circumstances that he was in.

“Oh, was everything okay?” Itadori innocently asked, one the marking disappearing leading you to undo your curse spell as the walls slowly started to fade away with little blue parts flying away like they were little fireflies. 

“I’m shocked, you really can control it!” Gojo cheered while Fushiguro looked onto the scene with such surprise and confusion on what was happening.

“He’s kind of annoying, though,” Itadori commented as he continuously smacked his head, “I can hear his voice.”

‘And is smacking your head gonna make it better, idiot?’

“It’s a miracle that’s all he’s doing,” Gojo stated, with a smirk on his face as he began to walk towards Itadori before suddenly placing his middle and index finger on the salmon-haired forehead, causing Itadori to freeze for a second before giving in to the suddenly unconscious feeling empowering his body to which lead to his falling within the teacher’s arms.

“What did you do?” Fushiguro asked with slight worry in his tone.

“Knocked him out,” Gojo then answered. “If he isn’t possessed by Sukuna when he wakes up, he might have potential as a vessel,” the white-haired sorcerer explained as he then turned to his student with a question in mind. 

“Now, I have a question for you, what should we do with him and the little miss, who is trying to run away?” 

Confused, Fushiguro turned around, only to find you with your back turned to both of them as your foot halted the second his teacher had mentioned you. Turning back around Fushiguro then looked at his teacher with a serious expression displayed on his face, “even if he is a vessel, jujutsu regulations demand Itadori be executed. However, I don’t want to let him die!”

“Your personal feelings?” Gojo playful asked his student with a smirk on his face before Fushguro quickly answered, “yes, please do something about this.”

“Hehe~ Now it’s a request from a previous student,” Gojo stated, as he proceeded to lift up the unconscious teenager onto this shoulder. “Leave it to me! But also, what do you want to do with Miss runaway?” Gojo commented, once again leading you to halt your movement as you surprisingly made some distance between you and the two sorcerers now staring at your back.

‘Ah…..caught again…..’

Turning around, you looked towards the two sorcerers with a nonchalant expression displayed before giving them the hand gesture of ‘shooing them away. “There’s nothing you got to do with me, take Itadori and make sure to do what you’re planning to do, don’t drag me into your mess,” you commented, as you turned around once again, only to find the infamous sorcerer to be standing right in front of you with a cheeky smile on his face.

“Come on~ Jujtutsu Tech is so much fun, you get to make a few friends and you get to bug Megumi!” Gojo cheerfully tried to persuade you, only for you to scoff in annoyance at this futile attempt to invite you to the school that your mother informed you all about.

“I rather not be near anyone belonging with the three clans,” you irritatedly declared as you placed your hand on your hip trying to keep a distance between you and the teacher. However, this statement of yours caused Gojo and Fushiguro to look at you with surprise painted on their faces. How much did you know about the Jujutsu world? How did you have the acknowledgement of the three great families? Who were you and how much you had the strength to stop Sukuna’s attack within a millisecond?

“L/N!” Fushiguro stated, leading you to turn to him with an angered expression on your face which caused Gojo to peer at you with seriousness clouding his entire body.

“L/N huh?” Gojo curiously questioned, “no wonder your curse technique is familiar to what those old documents have told.”

Taken back to his discovery, you turned back to look at Gojo will a deadpan expression leading him to then carefully suggest, “Since you are part of the lost L/N clan, I won’t tell the higher-ups about your existence but rather have you twist your name slightly when you enrol, how does that sound?”

Glancing at the teacher with suspicion, you tried to hide the gut-wrenching feeling that there was not a possible chance of you now escaping from this. You had been caught and found and there was no way to lie yourself out of this situation you were in, not when Gojo had discovered who you really were while Fushiguro seemed to look clueless on what was going on between his teacher and the female sorcerer in front of him.

Letting out a sigh of frustration once again, you looked up at the sky, letting the same moonlight bathe your face as it did for Sukuna a few minutes ago.

“What a drag”

© violettelueur 2021 : written and published by violettelueur - do not steal or repost

[wonlouvre]

Yayyy i absolutely love your writing!!

I would like to request a Hoshi × gn!idol! Reader angst+fluff imagine where Soonyoung cheers/takes care of his reserved s/o who has been having a hard time and has opened up to him about it for the first time. S/o is someone who can't say no easily and because of that their workload had increased a lot. But in the end they can't hold themselves any longer and breaks down.

strength | k. sy.

pairing: hoshi x gn!idol reader genre: fluff, angst, then fluff again warnings: mentions of anxiety, physical and mental tiredness (please tell me if i missed anything!) word count: 1.8k+ (i honestly don’t even know anymore)

💌: thank you very much for requesting! i made some tweaks here and there and i hope you still like it! thank you for loving my writing as well :’( it really means a lot that <3 i hope you like this!

Soonyoung was aware that you’d be coming from Japan for your collaborative magazine photoshoot. He just didn’t know that you’d be going straight from the airport at four o’clock in the morning. 

He thought he read your message wrong saying that you’re on your way to the assigned shooting location. As far as he’s concerned, the call time was at seven a.m. He had to do a double take while squinting his eyes over the brightness of his phone but when he saw another bubble pop out saying you’re already there, he immediately jumped off his bed to shower. 

He misses you. You’ve been going in and out of the country because of promotions and the chances of getting to see you has been slim to none. If he ever meets with you, it will be short because either one of you has to go back to work or has to go back to bed because there is a flight to catch the next day. It’s obviously tough. But your relationship perseveres. 

Soonyoung will do everything to make it work and you are together with him on that. So if it means he has to shower half-asleep and wear his boxers backwards just to see you, he’d never mind.

Your Japanese album tour started and ended successfully but work didn’t stop from there. You were just getting started. Before leaving the said country, you were fully booked for live television performances, interviews, variety shows and the like. It was exhausting but, it was an opportunity that you couldn’t miss out on for the world even if you wanted to. 

Soonyoung is proud of you and he will always be. Heart eyes were formed whenever he got the chance to watch your performances whether it be from a paid livestream event or from kind fans sharing and uploading their videos or photos on Twitter or Instagram. He’s even more in love when it’s in person and he gets to watch your performance plus enjoy it with your never failing supportive fans. 

However, Soonyoung is also worried because he knows you’re also tired. He knows how fulfilling it is to do what you love the most, but he’s no stranger to the physically and mentally tiring part of it. He wasn’t even surprised to catch you asleep on the couch when he arrived at your dressing room. 

Your manager’s eyes brightened when they saw him, quickly standing up from the chair to give him a hug. 

“They told me they just need a fifteen minute nap,” they whisper against Soonyoung’s shoulder as he hugs them back. “But we both know they need more than that.”

Soonyoung sadly smiles while his eyes never leave your curled form. He mutters a simple “I’ll take it from here” while your manager excuses themself to buy everyone breakfast. 

It’s a challenge to take you into his arms without disturbing your sleep because he doesn’t want that from happening. He just wants to hold you for the remaining time without interruption from other people. He just wants to hold you and share this moment of calm before the lights and camera get into action later. 

Soonyoung’s thankful you didn't, although he still felt your lips lightly ghost against his jaw, telling him that you know that he’s here. He brings your legs over his lap while he cradles your head close to his neck. He wishes to lay down, but the couch is too cramped for two bodies so he’d have to settle with this position. He guesses it’s fine with how you deeply inhale his scent and snuggle closer and closer, locking your arms around his waist with no intentions of letting go. 

Just like you, he falls asleep, completely comfortable and content in finally having you in his arms again. 

Your tangled bodies were shaken to wake up at least an hour later. Both of your managers have food in their hand, ready to energize the two of you up before moving forward with the hair and makeup. The agenda for today includes a photoshoot with several changes of outfit, a short shoot for an audio video presentation and lastly an interview or question and answer of some sort. 

Your relationship has been publicly known for two years already. Some fans have been supportive while some have been angry. It’s nothing new and it’s nothing the two of you could care about at this point. 

Countless projects have been offered to the two of you during the course of those two years whether it be a song or dance performance, a guesting on a famous variety show and even a three second cameo appearance on a drama. They’re all lovely offers and you would love to participate, but the two of you made a decision to keep the relationship private. Sure, you’ll accept it from time to time. But, it’s still very limited to one to two songs to sing or dance to together and some magazine photoshoots. Just like now. 

By far, this is the third time the two of you would be featured on a magazine cover. Your respective publicists already know how to communicate to the publishing company your terms and conditions. Questions about your relationship are allowed, but to a certain number only. The rest will be about what’s mostly seen by fans and the rest of the public which is automatically your music. 

The concept is not necessarily daringly romantic. After all, what you’re trying to promote here is the clothes. But your chemistry is maintained with a few fleeting touches here and there. In one shot, you two were holding hands and the other has his arm is loosely wrapped around your neck. 

You and Soonyoung are careful to not get lost in each other’s eyes during the short breaks in between because the cameras were still rolling. Although, his soft touches on your hand and arm still lingered. On the other hand, you help him fix his hair whenever he gets excited and jumps from time to time. You could kiss him right now, but again, you want to be careful. 

The shoot concluded faster than you thought and the next thing you know, the two of you are sitting side by side with a camera blinking red in front, ready to record the interview included in the contract. 

The interview consisted of questions that’s nothing out of the ordinary. The magazine asked about your favorite go-to styles lately, your look inspirations, a little bit of this or that, your recent music releases or favorite music releases at the moment and of course something about your relationship that you're comfortable and willing enough to share. 

But one particular question caught you off guard that you had to hold your tears and brave through the rest of the interview without showing any signs that you’re about to cry.

“How have you guys been lately, individually?”

“I’ve been great,” you quickly answer with a smile that didn’t even reach your eyes. The camera may not have noticed, but Soonyoung did. It took a lot of patience and restraint for your boyfriend to stop himself from cutting the interviewer off to ask you again how you really have been. 

Everything that was in store for the two of you today ends and when the cameras are gone, you and Soonyoung hand in hand walk back to your dressing room. It’s a relief that this is the last project for the day and you’re glad you could get some rest for the coming week.

Your body slumps on the couch while the staff pack up. You puff out a breath before closing your eyes. You wish you could yell out how tired you are lately. Work piled up over the course of six months and you couldn’t have at least two days away from the makeup and flashing lights. 

Soonyoung bites his lower lip as he settles beside you. He’s contemplating whether he should ask you now or later because he doesn’t want you to grow conscious and shut yourself away. He knows how brave and strong you are. But he also wants you to know that you can trust him and that if you ever need a shoulder to cry or at least lean on, his are more than welcoming. 

“You okay, babe?” He asks in the quiet as the staff leaves one by one. “Anything bothering you?”

You surprise him by sitting up straight and opening your eyes, welling with tears. That makes him shoot up and instantly hug you close. “Oh baby.”

You finally cry and set free the tears that you’ve been locking deep within you. You thought you could brave through this pain and anxiety without having the need to shed any vulnerability. You thought this shall pass soon. You thought you could do this. 

But here you are now letting go with sniffles and shaking shoulders as Soonyoung gently caresses the top of your head. 

He hates to see you cry. But it’s only right to let you. 

“I just feel like I’m going to miss out on everything if I turn down any project offered to me.”

Soonyoung pouts when he hears what’s been bothering you. It took a while for you to calm down and finally talk, but it’s okay. He doesn’t mind. He will never mind. 

“I understand, honey,” he assures you and wipes your tear stained cheek. “And there’s nothing wrong with feeling that way.”

Your lips shake again and crying makes you want to hide. Without hesitation, you crawl to your boyfriend’s lap and wrap your arms around his shoulder. Soonyoung doesn’t complain and just keeps you close, protective arms around your waist.

The dressing room is empty except for the two of you. The staff got the message once Soonyoung pleaded with them through his eyes to give you some time with him since you’re already done for the day.

“It’s also okay to work and work,” he continues, soothing hands rubbing against your back. “But at some point, it’s also okay to take a break for them.”

You pull away and rest your hands on his neck. “Even though I’m going to miss out?”

Soonyoung nods and leans his forehead against yours. “Yes and there’s also nothing wrong with that.”

“I seriously want to go on a trip with my family,” you say and sigh. “And of course, with you too.”

Soonyoung can’t help but giggle. “I’d love to. How about next month? Let’s go somewhere with your family or friends. Where do you want to go? What do you want to do?”

Your boyfriend’s enthusiasm puts a smile on your face and this time, the smile reaches your eyes. “Let’s go somewhere quiet first. I want to take a long nap before we proceed to do anything that needs an awake body.”

“You got it, babe,” Soonyoung promises and kisses your lips.

[irrelevantwriter]

No Questions, No Lies

Pairing: Rio (Good Girls) x Female Reader/You

Rating: Explicit, NSFW

Warnings: Language, oral sex (male receiving), unprotected vaginal sex, mention of bodily fluids, angst, characters who refuse to say how they feel, asshole Rio (low key loves it)

Word Count: 4.7K

Summary: Part 4. Riding a high, you decide to invite Rio over. But things don’t go as planned.

A/N: Once again, I am here, standing in front of you lovely people and saying thank you for all the love and support this series has gotten. It means the world. And then some. Onto the good shit...this part has lots of feelings, not all of them good. Angst is heavy towards the end, but first...smut. We love some toxic ass yearning, don't we? Also, we get some Rio POV in the first half. I’ve got two more parts planned so as always, stay tuned. I hope you guys like it. Feedback is that good shit. 💗

*Read Part 1 here

*Read Part 2 here

*Read Part 3 here

*Read Part 5 here

*Give and Take series masterlist

*Masterlist in bio.

*********************

He shifted in his seat, eyes glancing in the rearview mirror. He caught a glimpse of you as you handed off the bag of cash to Mick. Your gaze tried to find his through the blackened windows, searching for his presence in the front seat of the Mercedes SUV. It was no use. The tint was as dark as he could get it without drawing attention. Not that it mattered. The cops were always sniffing around...waiting for him to slip up. They were going to be waiting a long time.

He rubbed his chin as you rounded the vehicle and opened the passenger door. A cool breeze carrying the scent of your perfume swept in as you settled into the seat. He took you in slowly, gaze sweeping over your body as it often did when in your company. The sweater and jeans you wore were nondescript enough, but the hint of cleavage was obvious. And because you wanted to draw his attention, he gave you what you wanted and admired the area he’d been up close with only weeks before.

“Hi.” You greeted somewhat shyly, the gesture making him smirk. Even after the sex, you still got nervous around him. It had lessened tremendously since he’d first fucked you on your kitchen counter, but it wasn’t gone completely. And he had to admit that he liked that. Liked that he had such an effect on you.

“Sup, mama…” He replied, licking his lips as you averted your eyes from his.

It’d been three weeks since he’d shown up at your house in the early morning hours, announcing his return. He’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t miss being inside you. Now that he’d gotten a taste, it was difficult to manage without it. But you both had tedious schedules. He had several businesses. You had your kids. It didn’t always line up. And for three weeks it hadn’t. But seeing you now...he’d happily fuck you into the expensive leather of his seats if you’d let him.

“Everything good?” He prompted, noticing that you were fidgeting with your hands. You seemed worried, like something was weighing heavy on your mind. That wasn’t good.

“Yeah, yeah...of course.” You replied unconvincingly.

Rio leaned forward across the seat and placed a hand over both of yours, stilling the anxious movement of your fingers. Your eyes finally met his, a smile gracing your lips.

“What’s wrong?” He gruffly demanded, more out of concern for his operation than your personal feelings.

Your response surprised him.

“I need you to come over tonight.”

He took a long moment to silently take you and your words in. There was a softness in your features. It was unlike the expression of stress he’d seen you wear before. This wasn’t about business. This was personal.

“For what?” He asked, releasing your hand and sitting back to face you.

You bit your bottom lip and he watched as the appendage came away glossy and begging to be touched. His hand itched to reach out, but he stopped himself. Eager to see where you were taking this. Because he already had an idea.

“I...I need you.” You whispered, your gaze sliding to the deserted streets just beyond the windshield. You were hesitant. And that wasn’t going to work. He was going to have to teach you to take. In this world, there was no room for hesitation. You had to have the confidence to demand. If you didn’t, the weight of those around you who did would crush you.

Despite your timidness, his body hummed at your breathy confession. His blood pumped wildly in his veins while deep male satisfaction filled his chest. Inwardly, he was gloating. Outwardly, he was calm and nonchalant.

He shook his head and angled his ear towards you, as if signaling he couldn’t hear. “You gotta speak up.”

There was no humor in his tone. He wasn’t trying to tease you. He was acting as your instructor. Forcing you to be real about what you wanted.

He heard you scoff and as he turned to face you once again, he could see your hand reach out for the door handle. He stopped you with an outstretched arm, making sure to brush against your chest as he did.

“Just tell me what you want, darling.” He rasped, coercing your eyes to meet his.

You sighed, seemingly frustrated with yourself. He lifted his arm from across your body and instead let his fingertips trail down the side of your face. He watched from his peripheral as your chest expanded with a heavy breath, your breasts straining against the fabric of your sweater.

“You. I need you.” You repeated, the conviction clear in your voice this time.

He nodded, his thumb tracing the pout of your bottom lip. “That’s what I thought you said.”

Rio leaned in close, his mouth hovering dangerously over yours. You licked your lips in preparation for the action, the motion momentarily hypnotizing him. His eyes swept over your face, taking in every detail. His intense study made you shift in your seat. Maybe it was unease. He hoped it was arousal.

“I’ll be there.” He replied, pulling away and settling back into his own seat.

You blinked and nodded, still seemingly dazed by his proximity.

He hadn’t kissed you. And it was intentional. The constant push and pull of your relationship was maddening on most days. There was always an aspect of it that needed attention. Whether it was business or personal. It was always work. But times like these were what made it worth it. The teasing. The buildup. The attraction. It was so palpable he could practically taste it against his tongue. You were as frustrating as you were alluring and he was going to indulge in that combination until there was nothing left.

He wanted it all.

************

You smoothed out the fabric of your dress for the umpteenth time as you scrutinized your reflection. Nerves knotted in your stomach as you struggled to maintain some form of composure. Rio had texted you ten minutes before to say he was on his way. You didn’t know how much time that gave you, but it didn’t matter. It wouldn’t be enough.

You’d regretted your desperate demand of him the instant you’d left his car earlier that day. The cool air had pulled you from the fog of your lust and threw you back into reality. And it wasn’t good. You’d made a fool of yourself. You were better than that. You could form full sentences and express thoughts. You were confident and fully capable of telling a man to come over so that you could sleep with him. Especially one you’d already slept with.

You tried to find the courage that had consumed you the last time you’d slept with him. You’d taken without asking and he’d happily reciprocated. It was the very definition of raw desire and you had every intention of recreating it tonight.

Which is why you were taking extra care to make sure your dress was perfect, along with your hair and makeup. Not that it truly mattered. He’d already seen you practically fresh out of bed in cotton panties.

A knock at the front door made you jump in surprise, the knots in your stomach now turning to butterflies. You took one last look at yourself before you made your way towards the entryway, your bare feet soundless along the cool hardwood floors.

You opened the door, seeing Rio on the other side. He looked good. He always looked good. Dark shirt, dark jeans. And that unwavering look of smugness he so often wore. He was expressive without having to do or say much. He was self-assured. Arrogant even. The calm intensity he possessed was almost a magical power, holding you captive. It had a dual effect on your body. You were afraid. But it paled in comparison to your insistent arousal.

“Hi,” You greeted, gesturing for him to come in.

He did so wordlessly, eyes taking in your form as he moved. He let you lead him through the house and towards the kitchen and you swore you could feel his gaze blazing across your back, leaving a mark. He was good at that. He was good at making you feel seen. The rush of having someone pay attention to you in the way that Rio did was utterly seductive. It was addictive. And you wanted it for as long as he was willing to give it to you.

“You want something to drink?” You asked over your shoulder, heading towards the cabinet that housed the whiskey.

Rio’s voice stopped you.

“Nah, I’m good.”

You faltered and turned to see him leaning against the wall, watching you with an amused expression. Your insides heated with every silent second that passed between you. Looking at him made you remember why you’d asked him over. It wasn’t for a drink and it definitely wasn’t for small talk. Primal need began to swell within you as you stepped towards him. He was going to make you see your desperation through.

He straightened as you approached and invaded his space. You reached a hand out to trace the buttons of his shirt, gently tugging at the end of the fabric as you did.

“Come on,” You whispered, nodding your head in the direction of your bedroom. Any form of pretense was gone. You both knew why he was there...why he’d actually shown up.

You prayed he followed as you walked down the hall and into a space he had yet to be invited into. Until now. His footsteps echoed behind you, entering the bedroom and taking in his surroundings. You swallowed and turned to face him, pure want reflecting in his eyes. It urged you forward.

“Sit on the bed.” You commanded, voice surprisingly steady.

The corner of Rio’s lips edged upwards, but he did as you said. It appeared as if he was humoring you, expecting that you’d back out and end the night before it even began. But you were far past that. He’d made it clear, without words, that he wasn’t going to make this easy for you. He was going to make you work for everything. Whether that be his money or his affection. So you’d do it. You’d put in the work. And he’d reward you.

You reached for the zipper on the back of your dress, but it was too high. You stepped between his legs and faced away from him, motioning to the metal teeth that held the garment together.

“You mind?” You asked, waiting in anticipation. It was only a second later when you felt the brush of his finger against your back as he lowered the zipper. He made sure to drag his skin across yours, slowly and feather-light. It was almost non-existent, yet it pulled a shiver from you anyway.

You caught the loosened fabric before it fell, holding it to your chest. You turned and met his hooded gaze, noting the way his jaw was clenched. You let the dress fall to the floor, revealing the black lace you wore underneath. His eyes scanned your body like a predator stalking its prey, your nipples hardening in response. The sheer material of the bra barely concealed your body’s reaction. He took notice.

“That new?” He asked, chin jutting out and gesturing to the lace that adorned your body.

You stepped out of the dress and back between the space of his thighs, forcing him to look up at you. That familiar spicy scent filled your nostrils. It was his scent. And it lured you in further to his body’s warmth.

“If you want to think that highly of yourself.” You quipped with a coquettish smile, hands resting on his shoulders. His own hands remained on his thighs; not showing any indication that he was going to reach out and touch you.

His question had been spot on though. You had in fact went out and bought new lingerie. Several things in fact. And you might’ve bought them in black. A color that reminded you of only one person.

Rio chuckled lowly at your answer, licking his lips as you eased your breasts near his face. “You can’t let me have an inch, can you?” He challenged, an eyebrow raised in question as he looked up at you.

“If I give you an inch, you’ll take a mile.” You retorted, hands skimming along the back of his scalp. His fingers twitched against your legs at the motion, so you made sure to do it again.

Again he laughed. Humorless and patronizing.

“I can’t take what’s already mine.”

He said the words with so much confidence that you had to pause. You stilled your hands and for once stared right back into the depthless pools of his eyes. You predictably got lost in them, as you so often did with anything involving the man. His declarations of ownership should’ve scared you. They should’ve made you turn and run away. Instead, you went headlong into the storm.

“Pretty confident in yourself.” You replied, lowering yourself to your knees. He let his thighs fall open to make room for you, his expression showing just how pleased he was with your change in position.

“I’m not the one on my knees.” He threw back, hand finally reaching out to caress your cheek. His thumb swiped at your lips as his eyes zeroed in on them, no doubt picturing them wrapped around him.

“Touché.” You teased, kissing his thumb as it slid across your mouth.

You ran your hands up his thighs and towards his belt buckle. He let you, posture relaxing as he allowed you to do as you pleased. You shifted his pants and underwear out of the way as you pulled him free, your mouth already salivating at the sight. He was hardening with every second, veins and ridges calling to your womb like an old friend. You could feel him watching you as you leaned forward and placed a soft lick to the head of his cock. He tasted salty, but clean, and you wanted more.

You suckled at the tip of him while your hand worked the saliva around his length. He was long and pulsing with yearning in your palm. You let your mouth water around him, the sound of skin sliding against slickened skin now filling the room. The sound aided you in your efforts. You opened your throat to take him in, swallowing and savoring the low groan he expelled. It was music to your ears.

You listened to his reactions, catching every twitch of his cock along your tongue. You mercilessly teased him as you licked long strips along his flesh before you suctioned your cheeks and tightened around him. Your hands worked in tandem. Stroking what you couldn’t fit in your mouth while traveling down to caress his sac. He grunted and jerked with the action, causing him to slip further down your throat. Tears filled your eyes, but you kept going.

Moisture touched your tongue and you knew he was close. You chanced a glance up and was rewarded with a blissed out Rio. His head was angled back, his adam’s apple bobbing deliciously behind inked flesh as his hand made it to the back of your head. He didn’t push, but he didn’t have to. You happily gagged on his cock.

“That’s enough.” He commanded, voice low and tinged with barely contained control. He pushed your hands off of him and angled your chin up to him, his mouth descending on yours without a second thought.

You let him taste himself. Tongues intertwined in a show of eroticism that mimicked what your bodies longed to do. You steadied yourself on your knees as you grabbed at his shirt while his hands cradled your face. You wanted him to touch you...to explore your body in every way possible. It felt like your entire being was on fire and only he could soothe the ache. You needed him...badly.

“Touch me...please.” You pleaded once you’d broken apart.

He began to unbutton his shirt, discarding the piece of clothing easily as you waited. “Stand up.”

You did as he said, standing on shaky legs between his own. He reached out and smoothed his palms over your thighs and around to your ass, grasping the flesh and kneading. Your eyes closed in blessed relief, a moan just on the tip of your tongue. You jerked in his arms when you felt the wet heat of his mouth against your stomach, his lips trailing kisses along the flesh. Your hands held his head steady as he gave you what you craved. His fingers slid under the band of your panties, shifting the material up and down on your hips.

Impatience drove you to reach around and unclasp your bra, baring your breasts to his hungry kisses. He didn’t miss a beat. He mouthed at the underside of your breasts while his hands cupped them, massaging the sensitive mounds with skillful touches. Your panties felt too restrictive and uncomfortable. Wetness pooled in them as Rio’s touch urged more from you.

“The bed.” You gasped, feeling him pinch a nipple. The sensation made you shudder.

His presence disappeared from your body as he stood, pushing his jeans and underwear down. They fell to the floor as he stepped out of them, his shoes already off. You took him in for the first time. Took in the scarred flesh and lines of ink that ran along sinewy muscles. He was lean, but beautifully toned. All male.

You followed his lead and pushed the last scrap of clothing you wore down. The material fell easily to your feet and you kicked them away. You reveled in the way he looked at you. Untamed and feral. Like you were sin incarnate. It made your pussy clench in urgency.

Your palms glided up his firm chest as you reached forward to kiss him. He reciprocated, insistent hands guiding you to the bed. You let yourself fall to the mattress, his body following yours. Your mouths didn’t separate. You both savored the moment of finally being bare and pressed so closely to one another. You relished the flavors that sat on your tongues as you kissed, barely able to take in a breath. Hands roamed without barriers as he wedged himself between your thighs. You accommodated him, pushing your hips up to entice him inside you. A finger found its way there instead, dragging along your walls and collecting the moisture that had settled within.

“You ready?” He whispered into your ear, his finger now strumming at your swollen clit.

You nodded and moaned, hoping that was answer enough. Your back arched into his chest when he pressed the head of his cock at your entrance, lathering himself in you. Your nails dug into his back, your legs tightening around him. He showered you with tender kisses along your neck as his hips rutted against yours, not yet slipping into the place you both desperately needed him to be.  

“Look at me.”

You obeyed, locking gazes with him as he hovered over you. The moment lasted only a second before he was pushing forward. He was fully sheathed and throbbing within you as you clung to him, mouth open but no sound coming out. His face was buried into your neck as you both became reacquainted with the other. You felt deliciously full. Overwhelmingly so as his cock nudged the natural barrier within you. He was as far as he could go, and yet you wanted him closer.

“Move.” You said with a whimper, shifting your hips so that his cock dragged along your velvet walls.

Rio obliged, a prisoner to the cyclone of sensations that had swept you both up. He set a steady pace, his strokes deep and thorough. You cried out when he thrust so hard that you edged up the bed, the headboard rattling against the wall. Beams of light glowed behind your eyelids as he hit every spot as if he was made to. You clung to the silver chain that hung from his neck as he grunted in your ear, each pass of him stealing your breath.

“This what you wanted? Hmm?” He punctuated his question with a bruising drive of his hips forward, making your toes curl.

“Fuck, yes…” You moaned, disoriented by it all. The feel of him atop you. The rhythm of his hot breaths against your neck. The growls that rumbled from his throat. The sting of being stretched as he fucked you. It was enough to have you succumbing to your climax before you were even ready.

You slipped a hand between your bodies and rubbed at your clit, increasing the intensity of your impending release. You locked your legs around his waist and scratched at the sheets as ecstasy washed over you. Your pussy contracted with earth-shattering tremors as you flooded Rio’s cock with your spendings. A litany of moans and gasps accompanied your free fall into space. The man above you stilled as you rode out the waves of orgasm and clenched around him in almost painful spasms. And then, your entire body went limp.

The headboard resumed its melody against the wall as Rio chased his own end. He maneuvered onto his knees, his cock never leaving the confines of your body. He watched you from this new vantage point, taking in the expression of euphoria you wore. Your hands trailed up your abdomen and across your breasts, cupping them for him. His hips picked up speed, his body slapping against yours and creating an echo. You accepted it all as he finally came, filling you full with every drive of his hips. He held you firm as he emptied himself within you, ensuring not a drop was wasted. You hummed at the feel of it, warm and thick and possessing you.

His fingers loosened their hold on your thighs as he came down, the flesh already sore from his grip. He soothed the area, the motion making your eyes feel heavy with sleep instead of lust. You met his gaze and let out a breathless laugh, feeling your limbs already beginning to ache with overuse. He slowly retreated from your body and settled beside you, his back pressed against the headboard as the comforter shielded his lower half from view. You eased into a sitting position, bringing the sheet with you. The act of modesty was unnecessary, but you did so anyway.

“You good?” He asked, face turning serious.

You nodded, the mess between your legs proof of just how good you really were.

“We gotta talk.”

His words made you stiffen. The post-coitus high now tainted.

“About what?” You asked, attempting casualness as you faced him.

“You’re gonna have a new contact from now on. Someone besides me.” He explained. His tone was succinct and to the point. He wasn’t interested in making this a discussion. And that annoyed you. Because it deserved one, whether he thought so or not.

“What does that mean?”

“Means I’m moving on to something else. Something different. So now you gotta deal with someone else.”

You shook your head, desperately wishing you now had clothes on. “I don’t understand.”

“There’s nothing to understand. It’s how it has to be.” He stated cooly, features schooled into an expression of professionalism, despite his own state of undress.

“Why?” You asked, still struggling to comprehend what he meant. Because it sounded like he was pawning you off to someone else right after he’d fucked you.

“I’m flipping my game. Nothing can be permanent. You get caught if you get comfortable.”

“Don’t I get a say in this?”

“No. You don’t.” He retorted dryly. The quickness of his reply threw you, the coldness in it obvious.

“I don’t trust anyone else.” You said, standing up and wrapping yourself in the sheet. Your thoughts were running wild, the disbelief you felt clearly written all over your face.

“I trust him. He’ll handle shit.” Rio reassured you, though it didn’t translate. He sighed and stood from the bed, searching for his underwear and pants.

Anger flared inside of you as he got dressed. He was going to drop a bomb on you and then leave? The notion made blind fury replace the satiation of sex within you.

“I barely trust you.” You threw back, watching as he buttoned his shirt. He shook his head and laughed, apparently finding your statement funny. “Why are you doing this?” You asked, trying to keep the shakiness out of your voice but failing.

He moved towards you and cradled your cheek, a gesture you were starting to loathe. He didn’t have to say anything to be condescending. The intent was clear. That familiar pit formed in your stomach as he stared at you, licking his lips.

“It’s business. This isn't personal. Don’t make it that way, yeah?”

You twisted away from his touch, gritting your teeth in irritation. “So you coming over to fuck me when you want is business?” You challenged, wrapping the sheet tighter around your chest.

“I gave you a choice.” He replied, voice raising slightly. His face hardened, his eyes narrowing and spine straightening as you fought against him.

“And what choice was that? To fuck you or die?” You questioned hotly, seeing him take a step towards you.

“You don’t make the rules. This isn’t a fucking partnership, darling. You work for me. You listen to me.” He argued, matching your aggression.

An iota of fear crept up your spine, but you ignored it. You shook your head and turned to leave, but he caught you, holding your arm with a firm grip. It wasn’t painful, but it wasn’t comfortable either.

“Don’t. Do. That.” He warned, pulling you to face him once again. He was pissed. His temper barely under control as he pinned you with an icy glare.

“Fine....” You acquiesced, jerking your arm free. “Leave me in the able hands of someone else. I’ll make sure and show them the same kind of attention I showed you.” You goaded, seeing the vein in his neck pulse.

“Why do you gotta make shit difficult?” He asked, choosing to ignore your remarks. Rio didn’t wear jealousy well and it was obvious.

“You were the one that came to me, remember? You were the one that spouted that bullshit about trust.” You threw back, uncaring of the consequences.

“That's right.” He confirmed, stepping in your direction and crowding your space. You were both practically breathing the same tension-filled air. “And you went along with it. So go along with this. If not, arrangements can be made.”

You blinked, willing the man before you to disappear. You shouldn’t be surprised that things took such a left turn. They were bound to. And Rio was nothing if not an entrepreneur first. You knew that. Didn’t mean it stung any less.

“Leave.” You demanded, not meeting his gaze.

“I’ll be in touch.” He said before he was walking past you and out of the room.

The slamming of the front door echoed throughout the house when he left and you released the breath you’d been holding. Tears welled in your eyes, but you forced them back. The relationship between you and Rio was doomed from the beginning. You were both operating on borrowed time. No matter how much he acted as if he cared, he didn’t. You were a means to an end. That was blatantly apparent now. You were to fall in line and operate under his orders. That was it. But you couldn’t do that. Not when your entire life was at stake. You’d made the mistake of trusting him and he decided to throw it all away. All the progress made...for naught.

Rio would always want his money more than you. It made no difference if you finally offered yourself up on a silver platter, promising to run off with him. He’d surely laugh and pat your cheek, amused by your offer. He’d only been telling you what you wanted to hear. And wasn’t that what you wanted anyway? Wasn’t he just enough for a good time and an even better fuck?

Yeah. He was.

So then why did it hurt so goddamn much?

[egcdeath]

first impressions

pairing: soft!ransom drysdale x reader 

summary: [request] “hmm prompts... Ransom introducing you (a total opposite of him) to his family for the first time, or a Thrombey wedding! if you feel like it” i like where your brain is at anon! but why not a little bit of both? ;)

word count: 3.7k

warnings: pretty fluffy, some angst, toxic family dynamics

author’s note: this has been super lightly edited so pls forgive any mistakes <3 click here if you’d like to be added to my taglist & all reblogs are super appreciated!

You felt slightly out of place driving through the neighborhood of your youth in the passenger seat of Ransom’s beloved Beamer. Thinking of how your parents would react to your boyfriend, let alone his lifestyle of excess, made your heart rate increase, and you shuffled a bit in your seat unconsciously as a result of your nerves. As if he were reading your thoughts, Ransom set a steady hand on your knee and gave it a tiny reassuring squeeze before parking in front of the curb ahead of your home. 

Nervously exiting the vehicle, you watched wordlessly as Ransom grabbed your overnight bags from the trunk, and hauled them over his shoulders. Still saying nothing, you reached out and grabbed Ransom’s hand, constricting his circulation as you strolled up to your door, and rang your own doorbell.

When your mother whipped open the door and offered you an excited grin, you finally were able to let out the breath that you weren’t even aware you were holding.

“Goose!” your mother cheered, squeezing the life out of you while you snuck a glance at Ransom who seemed rather amused by the childhood pet name. “And who’s this?” she asked, pulling away from you and looking him up and down.

“I’m Ransom, your daughter’s boyfriend,” he announced with confidence, offering your mom friendly smile, before glancing back over at you and raising his brows the slightest bit. 

“Finally putting a face to the name, then. I’ve heard all about you from this one. Come on in,” she gestured for the two of you to enter. “Y/N can show you to her room, and dinner will be ready in about a half hour,” with that, your mother was off, and you were once again alone with Ransom.

You showed him up to your room, where he set down the bags and flopped down onto your bright pink duvet.

“Goose, huh?” he questioned, rolling on the hyperfeminine twin mattress. 

“Shut up,” you mumbled, before sitting down next to the headboard of the bed.

“Do you think she liked me?” Ransom asked, seemingly out of nowhere. “Did you tell her good things about me?”

“Since when do you care about what other people think of you?” you giggled a bit, and planted your fingers in Ransom’s hair. 

“I care because…” he thought for a moment, calculating just how honest he wanted to be. “I care because this is the longest relationship I’ve been in, and I want my future parents-in-law to like me.”

“We’ve been together for like, a year, Ran. But I applaud your commitment to me,” you massaged his scalp as you spoke, and ignored the butterflies floating throughout your torso at his mention of marriage. 

“Well? Do you think she likes me?” he asked once again. 

“Mmm, I like when you care about things,” you pressed a little peck to his forehead, and hovered a bit over his face. “She said like, 20 words to you, max. But after dinner I’m sure they’ll like you. At least I hope they will.”

Ransom playfully swatted at you. “How comforting. Wait, stay right there,” he reached up and held the hand that was massaging his scalp in place. 

——

By the time dinner came around, you seemed to have switched emotions with your partner, as you were feeling much more relaxed, and Ransom on the other hand, was not.

He kept a hand on your knee under the table in what seemed like a grounding technique, squeezing every now and then while your father plated your meals.

“So, how did you two meet?” your father questioned, sitting down beside your mom.

“We met while we were volunteering at the Humane Society together,” you gushed, glancing over at your partner who was nervously sipping his water, then back at your parents. “He always seemed so pissed in the beginning. I mean, the amount of times I saw him growling obscenities while tugging on harnesses, or playing the most unenthusiastic games of fetch I’d ever seen in my life is astounding,” you laughed softly, and looked over at Ransom once again as if you were cueing him to speak.

“Yeah, I really didn’t like it there at first. Not really a dog guy, but my grandad said it was community service or no allowance, and I was not interested in the latter,” he chuckled awkwardly and received confused expressions from your parents, which granted you an SOS squeeze on the knee. 

“Um, anyway, one day we were closing, and I went into the last cat suite, and there grumpy old Ransom was, cuddling with Garfield, you know, the old cat with the three legs, and it was literally the cutest thing I’d ever seen. Especially ‘cause Garfield is so hard to please,'' you paused to take a bite of the food in front of you. “We started talking more after that, then he asked me out, and of course I said yes. I guess the rest is history.”

“Aw, Goose, that’s so cute!” your mom cooed, but the moment didn’t last too long. 

“What do you do for work, Ransom?” Your dad asked, tilting his beer at the man. 

“I’m currently in between jobs. But, uh, I’ve been doing a lot of volunteer work.” 

Your father nodded wordlessly and paused for a second. “Volunteering get you a Beamer?”

“Dad!” You interrupted in a yelp, “please.” You frowned as you looked between the men. 

“Y/N, it’s fine. It’s a good question, but I got it as a gift a few years back. And, you know, my family’s comfortable.”

Before your father could respond, your mom popped in to save the conversation. “No money talk at the table, please. Tell me more about your relationship,” she gave both of you a sympathetic look. 

——

After that, dinner went on without much of a hitch, and you agreed upon doing the dishes with your mother while your father and boyfriend prepared a little fire outside.

“He seems sweet,” she commented after a long period of silence. 

“I’m glad you think so. He was really worried about you not liking him, and honestly, I was too,” you rinsed the last glass before setting it in your dishwasher.

“I just want you to be careful, okay? When you have that much money, people do strange things, or say things they don’t mean and expect you to just take it. He seems like a good boy, but just don’t let your guard completely down. The last breakup you went through-“

“Stop, I get it,” you sighed softly. 

“This doesn’t mean I don’t like him. I just don’t want to see you that hurt again,” she gave your arm a soft squeeze. “Let’s go stop your dad from catching a murder charge,” she beckoned you to follow her out to the backyard, where your boyfriend and dad were… laughing together? If you weren’t so relieved, it’d almost be off-putting. 

The rest of the night went alarmingly well, Ransom finding a way to bond with both of your parents after an awkward first half of the evening. As the two of you crawled into your tiny bed and spooned while drifting off to sleep, Ransom slurred a tired ‘I think they liked me,’ into your ear. 

From that point on, Ransom’s position within your family only became better. For the first time, he was welcomed into a familial environment that wasn’t more toxic than a Chernobyl cooling tower, and Ransom was loving it. After suggesting to spend that year’s Thanksgiving at your parents’ home, spending the holidays with the L/N family became a frequent occurrence for the two of you. 

Though you occasionally wondered why you were four years into a relationship with the man, and still hadn’t met his family, which to your understanding, was rather large, you had better things to concern yourself with. You understood and respected that Ransom’s relationship with his own family wasn't the best, from the little that he shared with you, but occasionally curiosity often got the best of you.

Yet, things seemed to shift after your engagement. In the midst of dress fittings and cake tastings, Ransom had decided that it was finally time for you to meet the rest of the Thrombey clan, and that there was no better time than Harlan’s book release party, which was being celebrated out in California, at the Thrombey Vineyard.

In your years of relationship, you’d become no stranger to luxury, and the finer things in life, but arriving at the Vineyard put you in awe at just how affluent these people were. Perhaps that’s what happens when you’re one of the great writers of your time, and your offspring go off to become equally “self-made” successes.

You were a bit tired from the three hour difference between Boston and Sonoma Valley, and as soon as you hopped out of the car at the vineyard, you could only think of getting to your room, out of your baggy travel clothes, and to sleep as soon as possible. 

Trailing behind Ransom, you looked around at the vast expanse of crop-filled land around you in astonishment while you walked up the cement path to the mansion, not really noticing the petite woman with curled blonde hair, and an oversized straw hat approaching you. 

“Oh gosh, you must be Y/N!” she said gleefully. “I’m Joni. I’ve seen you all over Ranny’s Insta,” she paused and looked you up and down. “Well, you do look a little different there,” she chuckled.

“That’s great, Joni. Maybe you can Tweet about how exhilarating and life changing this experience has been for you to all your little pyramid scheme friends.”

“You’re always so rude, Hugh,” she sneered.

“I forgot about your chronic victimhood. Goodbye, Joan,” he rolled his eyes, and practically tugged you inside the massive building in front of you, before dragging you up the stairs. You were honestly in a little bit of shock at seeing how nasty Ransom got from just a small interaction.

You set your Louis Vuitton Keepal, and aluminum suitcase down on the granite floor of the bedroom, before flopping down, and spreading your limbs out on the massive memory foam bed that sat in the center of the room, “What was that, Ran?” you questioned as he sprawled out next to you.

“The reason why I didn’t want you to meet them. They’re like sharks, looking for anything that even resembles blood in the water,” he threw an arm around you and yawned. “We can talk about this in the morning, though. Right now, I think that both of us need a shower.”

“Speak for yourself, you stink bug.”

“But what if I get lonely in there?” 

“Fine,” you huffed, moving his arm off of you, and heading off to the en-suite. 

That night, as you stared at the blank wall in a vain attempt to quiet your mind enough to fall asleep, you questioned if coming to meet Ransom’s family was more of a mistake than you initially anticipated.

The next morning felt a bit frantic. You and Ransom woke up a few hours before everyone else, as they’d been in California for a few days now and had adjusted to the time difference, while you two had not. An in-house chef made you two a gourmet buffet of a meal while housekeepers laid out your clothes back in your room, and you were feeling a bit overwhelmed by all of the sudden interferences in your life. Though it was nice to not have to do all of the work, you weren’t sure how you felt about other people doing it for you. 

The majority of your day felt similar to that morning. You quickly realized that Ransom’s fortune was just a small portion of the Thrombey estate, and that his family were essentially a bunch of monsters with money. Throughout the day of horse riding, wine tasting, and wine painting workshops, you couldn’t help but notice how they turned their noses up at you, treating you, and the staff working at the vineyard, like some sort of outsider. 

Your alienation only became more apparent during Harlan’s celebratory dinner, when insults and sneers were tossed at both you and Ransom for being together. 

“Are you trying to get revenge on us, or something?” Richard asked at one point, gesturing to you, and catching you completely off guard, 

“Why would you say something like that?” Ransom asked, trying not to let his offence show as his jaw clenched.

“It’s just not like you to want to settle down, especially with someone like… her,” he spoke about you like you weren’t sitting right there.

“No, I agree,” Walt added. “For once in our lives I agree with you,” he laughed aloud, and a few other folks at the table laughed with him. “Can you believe that after all these years, we’re bonding over Ransom’s little girlfriend?” 

You weren’t even sure how to react, so you laughed awkwardly along with them, and stared blankly at the vast expanse of grape trees behind the row of Thrombey and their friends. What you would give to sprint out into that, and never come back. 

Ransom looked to you in your obvious discomfort, and grabbed your knee, offering it a little reassuring squeeze before he interrupted them. 

“You know what? All of you dickheads can eat shit. Y/N is really the only person who matters to me at this point, and you pricks need to respect that. Hell, you need to respect her.” 

“Look at little Ranny, getting all soft,” Walt chided. 

He ignored the comment and continued on, “And If I don’t start hearing apologies soon, every single one of your wedding invites have a one way ticket to the shredder.”

A silence fell over the table. You were a bit surprised too, since your invites had already gone out, and Harlan was the only Thrombey to receive one.

“...You’re getting married?” Meg asked, breaking the silence. “Why wouldn’t you tell us?” 

“Why do you think?” you muttered, pushing around a few things on your plate before standing up, and pushing your chair away. “Excuse me.”

You knew that by leaving, you were only opening yourself up for more criticism, but you genuinely weren’t sure that you’d be able to take one more second of hostility. You pushed your chair back in, before heading off the patio, into the gigantic home, and up to the room that you’d claimed.

You rolled on top of the bed, and screamed into a feather filled pillow. It wasn’t too long after when tears stung your eyes as you came to the conclusion that these monsters were just a few months away from becoming your in-laws.

You thought you’d heard the most of it after the table, yet a prompt knocking at your door proved otherwise. Letting herself in, you turned to face Ransom’s mother herself, and you just knew that you were in for it.

“Listen, you whore,” Linda began in a sharp, yet quiet tone, “I don’t know what you’re trying to do with my son. Isolate him from us. Try to ‘change him’ like I know you think you’re doing. But just know that at the end of the day, he’ll always pick us. You’ll always be the second choice, especially when Ransom realizes that you barely have a dime to your name, and his bank account starts to runs dry,” she approached you, and pointed an accusatory finger towards you. “You’ll never be anything but a disgusting, sloppy little gold digger. You may be his toy of the week, but at the end of the day, you’re just an afterthought. I suggest that you get out of his life sooner than later. I’m sure Ransom wouldn’t mind, considering we already have your replacement with one foot in the door,” she gestured over to the window facing the back patio, where Ransom was chatting with a brunette woman that appeared to be quite a few years younger than himself.

“You’re cute, Y/N. Really! It’s cute that you’re thinking right now that he would never leave you, cheat on you with some new, younger, hotter piece of ass. Just know that you don’t know Ransom as well as you really think you do. I can promise you, it’ll be much easier to break off an engagement than it’ll be to get a divorce. Especially with that prenup he’s considering dropping on your desk any day.” she tutted as if she cared. “Well, sweetheart, it was great meeting you. I’m glad that these were our first and last words together,” she gave your back a pat before leaving the room, and you looked out the window in shock. 

Shaking as you dig into the pocket of your sundress, you sent Ransom a simple ‘help’ message, before setting your phone aside and trying to pack your belongings in as quick of a manner as possible.

When Ransom opened the door, a steady stream of tears and mascara was staining your face, while you urgently threw things into your suitcase.

“Goose, what happened?” he gasped, hurrying over to your kneeling form, and setting a hand on your shoulder. 

“Why,” you sniffled. “Why would you let her come up here and say all that shit to me!” you croaked, swatting his hand away from you. 

“What?” he watched as you pressed down on the overfilled suitcase and frantically attempted to zip it, to no avail. “Linda said she was gonna come apologize?”

“Telling me that I’ll never be enough for you is just a perfect apology,” you muttered, “I need to go home.”

“God,” he grumbled to himself, “This is exactly why I waited so long for them to meet you. Okay, we can go home then. I’ll buy us tickets right now.”

“This is on you too, Ransom. You didn’t tell them about us, like, at all. You had so much time! You couldn’t give Linda a call and say ‘hey I’ve been seeing this girl’ or even tell Harlan to deliver the message for you?” you hiccuped, but continued. “All of this could’ve been avoided if they had four years to adjust to our relationship. Maybe then they wouldn’t call me a whore and a gold digger every other sentence.”

“I was just trying to protect you from them,” he frowned.

You finally managed to zip up the suitcase, and stood up along with it, “well, you clearly did a great job of that.” 

You dusted off the skirt of your dress, and grabbed your phone. “I’ll let you know when our car gets here,” you huffed before walking into the en-suite and closing the door behind you, just to have a moment for yourself (and make yourself look a bit more put together before you leave.)

A tense car ride, and awkward flight later, you marched straight into the guest bedroom, and cocooned yourself under a copious amount of blankets. You felt like you stayed there for years, only getting out of bed to shower and use the restroom, and living off of the crustless sandwiches and jarred spaghetti your fiancé brought to your door. 

You slept most of the time, and in the moments you weren’t sleeping, you were dwelling on every vicious word thrown at you at the vineyard. Every day, you listened to Ransom apologize through the door, yet every day, you questioned if going through with the wedding was truly the wisest idea. 

A few days into your stay in the guest bedroom, you finally allowed Ransom to stay in the room for more than just dropping off food. He sat down next to you in bed, and cupped your cheek in his hand, rubbing his thumb softly back and forth against the skin. 

“I don’t know how I can make things right for you,” he said softly. “I really did set you up, and I didn’t even mean to. I should’ve made better decisions, but I can’t change four years ago. But I can keep those heinous people away from you. They’ll never have the chance to do, or say anything like that to you again, okay?” his thumb caught on a tear, which he promptly wiped away. “Just… please don’t leave me. The bed feels too empty without you, and it’s just been a few days. I can’t imagine feeling that emptiness for the rest of my life.”

You whimpered and sat up, abruptly embracing the broad man. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let your idiot family make me question the validity of our relationship,” you muttered into his shirt. 

“I promise you you’ll never have to worry about them again. They had their opportunity to make things right, and they missed it.”

-----

Things were more or less smooth sailing after that fiasco. You found your perfect venue, decided on your ideal Honeymoon spot, and finished your seating arrangements with time to spare, and the next thing you knew your wedding day was around the corner. 

It all seemed to happen so fast, one second you were being walked down the aisle, the next, exchanging vows and rings as aisles of your friends and family members cheered for you, Y/N Drysdale.

Your reception also seemed to slip right through your fingers, your first dance, toasts and cake cutting finding itself over almost as soon as it started. You were grateful that you hired a wedding videographer, as the day was so overwhelming, you weren’t quite sure how much of it you’d remember. 

As you drove off to the airport, Ransom set his hand upon your knee one more time. A warm, fuzzy feeling formed in your chest at the all too familiar gesture. You turned your head from the window to your husband, who was grinning back at you, and couldn’t help but to think of how perfect your wedding ended up, though it felt like it sped by quickly. More than anything, you were grateful that you didn’t give up on Ransom despite his interesting family. 

[tatesweaterweather]

Fem!Reader making a joke about ‘boring’ sex with James & he gets angry 😳😳

(⚠️ warnings!: medium level bdsm <3)

It had all started one evening when you were with James that everything had been unravelled. You were both in his office, him finalizing new documents for the hotel while you were reading one of the many books Liz had lent you.

Sighing, you put your book down.

“What is troubling you so, my darling?” James had asked, not bothering to look up from his work.

“I’m bored.” You replied.

“I wish I could entertain you, my love. But, as you can see I am very busy.” He motioned to his papers.

“Can you not just take a break for like a half hour? We could do whatever you want within that time. We can even have sex if you wanted to!” You had asked sweetly, not noticing how desperate you really sounded.

“Darling you know I would love to, but I simply cannot afford to just drop everything right now. I promise, I will tend to you later.” He replied shortly.

“Fine, I didn’t want to have boring sex with you anyways.” You mumbled the last part of your sentence, picking up your book again. Not knowing if he heard that correctly, James had whipped around in his chair.

“What did you just say to me?” He questioned.

“I said I don’t want to have boring sex with you anyways.” You repeated, not looking up to see his shocked and angry expression. Without hesitating, he had gotten up from his seat, walked over to you and ripped the book straight from your hands before chucking it aside.

“Hey! I was reading that!” You complained. When you had lifted your head to see his face, your stomach dropped and your throat went dry. Nervously and out of instinct, you gulped.

“I wouldn’t be so quick to say such things, darling.” He said as he lifted his hands to gently wrap around your throat.

“Or what?” You mocked shakily. With that, he pushed you by the throat down onto the couch. He leaned down to spread your legs, placing his knee in between them as he whispered in your ear.

“Darling, I’m going to say it once and I’m not going to say it again so you best listen to me now. You’re going to go back to our room, strip down to your underwear and wait for me. If you are not done by the time I get there, you’re going to wish you were dead somewhere that is not within these walls.” He warned, and you did not hesitate to comply. You waited for him to lift his knee before rushing to your shared bedroom.

Not knowing how long he was going to take, you hurriedly stripped out of what you were wearing down to your matching underwear set. It was nothing too fancy, but you saw no point in changing seeing as James would arrive at any moment and there was no telling what he would do if you didn’t obey what he had asked.

After about three minutes of waiting, James walked in. You stood nervously, waiting for his next orders.

“Get on the bed and lay on your back.” He demanded in a low tone, which meant he was not going to repeat it again. You nervously walked over to the bed and laid on your back as commanded. He slowly walked over to you and held out his hands to show you something that made you gulp in anticipation.

A rope and a blindfold.

It was clear James could see the nervous look on your face, and his facial expressions softened for just a few seconds.

“Are you okay with this, darling?” He asked. You nodded enthusiastically and his dominance kicked in again.

“Lift your arms up.” He commanded. You obeyed, lifting your arms up to the headboard where he tied them together so you couldn’t move them no matter how hard you tried. Then, exchanging looks one last time that said you were both comfortable with this, he placed the blindfold around your head. You automatically tensed up seeing as this was your first time being blindfolded during sex.

James noticed this and softly caressed your arms before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a pocket knife. You whimpered softly at the lack of touch before flinching at the sound of his knife opening.

“Shhhh, it’s okay darling.” He reassured you, kissing your lips gently before going back to what he was doing. He had kneeled over top of you, fully clothed, and began dragging the pocket knife up your chest to cut your bra clean off. Setting his knife aside, he reached down and swiftly lifted your bra to toss it aside before moving down to your underwear. He repeated the same process, cutting your underwear and tossing it aside.

You moaned softly at the humiliation of it all. Him being fully clothed while you’re a whimpering mess below him. Naked, blindfolded, and tied up. You were completely vulnerable at his expense and you both knew it.

You could feel James crawling off of you to get off the bed, and you nearly whimpered at the thought of him leaving. But just as you were about to let out a noise, he returned.

“Now surely you don’t think I’ve forgotten about your little remarks earlier, right?” He taunted, lifting his hands to caress your soft skin.

He then readjusted his position on the bed so he was in between your legs. You gasped loudly as you felt him slap your already dripping cunt. You then felt him lick a stripe up your clit and you couldn’t help but let out a loud moan. You went to tangle your fingers in his hair, but that only made the rope burn your skin even more than it already was.

He slowly dipped his tongue in and out of you, and shortly after, he slipped a finger in. You whimpered and cried out at the feeling. As his fingers curled inside of you, you arched your back slightly and sobbed.

“James, I’m gonna cum.” You moaned. With that, he removed all contact.

“No, no, no. Please James, please let me cum.” You pleaded, but it was no use. You could hear him get up again, but this time you could hear the sound of clothes getting tossed aside. He walked over to the bed again, and began to untie the ropes.

“Get on your hands and knees.” He demanded. You rushed to obey him, nearly falling over in the process. “Now remember darling, if you even think of misbehaving again, I will not hesitate to tie your hands again. Got it?”

You nodded as you waited patiently in position, your breath feeling uneven as you shake in anticipation. Although you couldn’t see him, you could hear him crawling on the bed behind you. What you didn’t know though, was that he had his belt in his hands instead of tossing it aside earlier. Just as your breath was starting to even out again, he whipped your cheek which caused you to gasp loudly.

“Now my darling dearest, tell me what you did to deserve this.” He asked in a dominate tone that made your legs feel weak.

“I- I wasn’t respectful of you. I mocked you and challenged you.” You trembled.

“That’s right, my love. Now, can you tell me what happens to girls who act out and are disrespectful?” He asked, even though he seemed to already know the answer.

“They deserve to be punished.” You whimpered.

“That’s right. Now, I want you to count all 10 of your punishments. If you suddenly stop or miss a number, we are going to start all over again.” He said assertively.

“Yes, sir.” You agreed, which made him groan softly at the choice of nickname.

After what felt like forever, you had finally gotten to 10 whips. By the time you both were finished, James’ fingertips were white from the grip on his belt and you were choking on your own sobs.

“You did so good, my darling. I’m so proud of you. You deserve a reward. Do you want a reward, my love?” He praised. The only thing you could do was nod as you tried to calm down from the choking sensation.

He then flipped you over so you were laying on your back, and he untied the blindfold. You immediately hissed at the harsh lighting, and James leaned down to kiss you. You melted into the kiss, missing his soft lips after the harsh assault on your bottom. He then pulled away to whisper softly in your ear.

“Are you ready for me, my love?” He asked, and you nodded.

After lining up his tip with your wet entrance, he pushes in slowly to make sure you don’t feel uncomfortable in any way. You both moan softly, the feeling of being this close together never really sinking in. He begins to thrust at a fast, even pace after he knows you’re okay. After a few moments of him fucking into you harshly, you start to feel that familiar feeling in your tummy.

“James, can I please cum now?” You pleaded.

“Yes my love, you can cum now. Cum for me.” He says as he fastens his pace even more, if that’s possible. As soon as he feels you beginning to tighten around him, he starts rubbing your clit which makes you scream out in pleasure.

You slowly begin to let go and let the waves of immense pleasure wash over you. You feel your legs beginning to go limp as you try and clutch onto James for dear life. He slowly cums inside of you, knowing it’s okay because you two have discussed it and done it plenty of times before.

He gently lays you both down beside him as you both begin to come down from your highs.

“Darling? Are you alright?” He asks lovingly.

“Yes James, I’m okay. I’m just feeling a bit tired now is all.” You reply sleepily.

“Well my love, as much as I’d love to let you sleep, we have to get you cleaned up so you won’t feel unpleasant in any way when you awake. Come now my dear.” He says as he picks you up bridal style, making you giggle.

[snowdice]

Big Bang (Sort of) Editing Story [Day 95]

I started writing this fic while editing my Big Bang story, but am going to continue doing it for other things now that Kill Dear is out. I will write and publish 100 words of the story every time I finish doing whatever task I’m doing. If you’d like to block these proceedings, please feel free to block the tag proofread stories. I will reblog this post with the parts of the story I do today. Edited chapters are linked; everything else I’ve done so far is under the cut.

My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35 Part 36 Part 37 Part 38 Part 39 Part 40 Part 41 Part 42 Part 43

Just got back from vacation and got to do some stuff, but also tired. Let’s see how long I last.

Chapter 44 (Thomas)

Loraine had called Thomas down to the stables in the morning to talk about a concern that had cropped up with their grain stores. They’d found mold in one of the grain bins which had, of course, soiled everything stored there. Luckily, it ended up being one of the smaller grain bins, but it still provided some concern for getting through the winter. As it was, they would be able to make it through, but a lot less comfortably.

Thomas mostly trusted the three who ran animal husbandry on the castle’s lands to deal with it, but he still provided his opinion when asked.

The meeting had taken a few hours. When he’d come down to the stables, the sun had been shining. It had still been cold, but not as freezing the last few days, though he was under no illusion that winter was anywhere near over. A point which was emphasized when he stepped out of Loraine’s office and glanced out of a window only to see what appeared to be a blizzard happening outside.

Great. He wasn’t exactly enthused about walking back to the castle in that. Wanting to delay the trip as long as possible, he turned away from the window and walked towards the other end of the stable.

He grabbed an apple along the way, intending to feed it to Mr. Apples while convincing himself to make the jaunt back up to the castle. To his surprise, Mr. Apple’s head didn’t pop into the hall upon hearing someone enter his domain (aka the hall outside of his stall). This was odd as Mr. Apples was a territorial bastard who was always sure to be prepared to confront anyone who came within range or eat an apple if the person invading his space happened to be one of the few he wouldn’t attempt to bite on sight. Yet, no white nose popped into sight.

When Thomas approached the stall, he figured out why. There was someone in the stall, but unlike most instances of someone being in a stall with Mr. Apples, the person was not being bitten, spit at, or anything else. Instead, Mr. Apples was standing there calm as day as Virgil ran a brush over his flank.

Thomas stared at them for a moment. He found himself wondering if Mr. Apples had died and someone had replaced him with another white horse, so the royal family didn’t get upset, like one might replace a child’s dead goldfish if it dies while they’re away.

However, then, Mr. Apples realized Thomas was there. The disdain in his expression upon catching sight of Thomas told him this was no imposter. He apparently by some miracle had just found another person he liked. Which… did pose an issue for Thomas.

Virgil had calmed down around Thomas a bit ever since Thomas had found the boy hiding in the castle, but he wasn’t sure how Virgil would feel about being confronted by Thomas’s presence without warning. In the past, he’d been rather jumpy. If Thomas startled a person Mr. Apples liked in front of Mr. Apples, the tentative peace between Thomas and the horse would surely be over.

He debated simply walking away like Mr. Apples’ expression was insisting, but before he could, Virgil glanced up at him. Thankfully, he didn’t jump. He looked at Thomas for a second, seeming a bit unsure. They hadn’t been alone since he’d stopped being completely terrified of Thomas’s existence after all, but eventually Virgil settled on saying, “Uh, hello your majesty.”

“Hello Virgil,” Thomas replied with a small smile. “You can just call me Thomas if you’d like.”

Virgil didn’t seem to know what to say to that, so Thomas dropped it for now.

“Mr. Apples seems to like you,” he said.

“He’s a good horse,” Virgil said, patting Mr. Apples’ side. Mr. Apples sent Thomas a smug look. Well, this… was a very familiar conversation, Thomas thought, his heart squeezing just a bit.

Having learned long ago not to bother arguing his case, Thomas just said, “He doesn’t like many people.”

“Logan said that,” Virgil said.

“Where is Logan?” Thomas asked, curious. Usually, Virgil wasn’t too far from him or Patton, but Thomas hadn’t seen a sign of them in the stable.

“He’s studying in his library,” Virgil said, “but I wanted to come to the stable since the weather was slightly nicer.”

“And Patton?”

“He had a meeting with your advisor.”

“Makes sense,” Thomas said. He was glad Virgil was apparently comfortable enough now to go places without one of the other boys. He reluctantly supposed he had Mr. Apples to thank for that. “I brought him and apple. Would you like to feed it to him?”

“Sure,” Virgil said.

Thomas smiled and handed an apple slice over the stall gate to Virgil. He fed it to Mr. Apples. Once the horse was finished with that slice, Thomas handed him another.

“Don’t you want to feed some to him?” Virgil asked.

“He’ll enjoy it much more from you,” Thomas replied.

Virgil frowned, but Mr. Apples threw his head in agreement. Virgil ended up feeding the rest of the apple to the horse.

“Would you like to walk back to the castle with me?” Thomas asked once the horse was busy chowing down on his last slice.

“Sure,” Virgil replied. Thomas smiled at him and helped him put away the brush and other supplies he’d been using on Mr. Apples.

Everything went smoothly until he and Virgil moved to leave the stable. The second that Virgil’s eyes saw the weather conditions outside he paused. Thomas did have to admit that he also wasn’t a fan of what was going on outside. The castle was only a dark blob in the distance when the snow was falling that fast.

Yet, there was something different about Virgil’s expression. It didn’t just seem like reluctance to get cold and wet. Thomas had unfortunately seen Virgil terrified a few times before and it was definitely fear flashing in his eyes right now.

“Are you alright?” Thomas asked softly. Virgil jumped at his voice, but for once Thomas didn’t think he had himself to blame for that.

“I…” Virgil hesitated. “I’m just going to stay here for a while.”

Thomas looked at him and then at the snow outside. “You don’t like the snow, I assume?”

Virgil curled one arm around his waist, gripping the opposite wrist. He shrugged a shoulder. “Bad experience.”

“Oh,” Thomas said, “I see.” The child was looking away from Thomas as well as from the snow outside. His eyes were fixed on a bale of hay. “I guess we’ll just stay out here for a bit.”

Virgil’s eyes shot back to him. “You don’t have to stay,” he said. “It’s fine.”

Thomas shrugged. “I didn’t really want to go out in that anyway.”

Virgil bit his lip. “You’re king,” he said. “You have important things to do. You don’t need to sit out in a horse stable with me because of my issues.”

“You’ll be amazed how much time I’ve spent sitting in a horse stable in my life, king or not,” Thomas said with a rueful smile.

Virgil still seemed unsure. “You don’t have to,” he said. There was no way Thomas was going to leave a child who was afraid of snowstorms alone in a horse stable during one even if he wouldn’t technically be alone with all of the workers about.

“It’s fine,” said Thomas. “I’m sure the stable hands would be willing to share some of the tea in their breakroom with us. We’ll wait for a bit and then see if the storm decides to let up later.”

“If you’re sure,” Virgil said.

“I am,” Thomas said with a smile before leading him towards the staff breakroom and away from the sight of the snow falling outside.

  Chapter 45 (Virgil)

The king led Virgil to a small room in the center of the stables. Two people were sitting in the room talking and playing cards when they entered. They looked up at their entrance, but didn’t spare them a second glance, going back to playing their game. This both made sense because the king should be able to go wherever he wanted without question and didn’t make sense because Virgil had assumed most people working for the castle would jump into asking if the king needed anything when he entered a room.

Instead, the king walked over to a small counter at the side of the room.

If Virgil did not know he was the king, he probably wouldn’t have been able to guess right now. He’d clearly dressed to be in a horse stable today. There was no crown or any jewelry really in sight except for a necklace. His clothing was perhaps of better quality than most who worked in a stable would wear every day, but not by a large margin. He could have just been a stable manager or something if Virgil did not know better.

He glanced back at Virgil once he’d grabbed a few clean cups. “What would you like to drink?” he asked.

“I don’t care,” Virgil said.

“Have you tried hot apple cider before?” the king asked.

Virgil shook his head.

“Well, it looks like they have some cider being kept warm here,” he said touching a small barrel that was sitting on the counter. There was a slight glow to the barrel that Virgil recognized as a heating enchantment.

“Sure,” Virgil said. “I like apples.”

The king smiled and turned to pour out a glass of the drink through a spigot on the side of the barrel. He offered it to Virgil. The king was serving Virgil a drink. That was… really weird. He was a weird king.

Virgil took the cup. It was warm from the hot drink inside of it, and Virgil felt some of the tension that had been in his shoulders since he’d seen the amount of snow outside release as his fingers warmed up.

“It has more spices than things like apple juice,” the king said. “Mostly cinnamon, but also things like cloves, ginger, and nutmeg.”

Virgil didn’t really know what any of those things tasted like off of the top of his head other than cinnamon and, of course, apples. He took a cautious sip anyway.

“Like it?” the king asked, a smile growing on his face quickly in response to whatever face Virgil was making.

Virgil nodded vigorously.

“Good,” the king said with a chuckle. He turned to get another glass of the apple cider for himself. “Let’s sit,” he said motioning with his head to a couch. It was the only free seating available other than one extra chair at the table where the two stable hands were playing cards.

Virgil did as he was told, walking over to the couch, and taking a seat. It was an old, but comfortable couch. Most of the things in this room seemed pretty old, though all in good condition. It made sense that they wouldn’t want to have a bunch of new furniture when people were just using it to take a break between cleaning horse stalls.

It was a nice little room all the same and warmer than the rest of the building. The two stable hands had slung their light coats over the backs of their chairs, and the king took his coat off before sitting. Virgil kept his on.

There were a few hooks where it looked like the workers kept their heavier winter coats for when they left the stable as well as some bags and a couple of paintings.

“That one looks like Mr. Apples,” Virgil pointed out.

The king glanced at the painting. “It is Mr. Apples actually,” he told Virgil. He smiled a bit. “He was absolutely impossible to keep still for it. He went back and forth between trying to bite the artist to trying to show off for his owner. I’m pretty sure the artist made his eyes red if you look close enough just to express his displeasure somehow.”

“Logan?” Virgil asked.

“Oh, no,” said the king. “That was when my husband was alive.”

Virgil immediately internally cringed. Externally he said a quick “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” said the king. “He’s not a taboo topic to me.”

Virgil searched his face, but he really didn’t seem mad. There was maybe a bit of sadness around his expression, but he wasn’t angry.

“Logan always seems upset when he mentions him.”

“He’s mentioned him to you?” the king asked, sounding surprised.

“A few times,” Virgil said. “He said the hairpiece he let me borrow that one time was his favorite and, when he realized I didn’t like the snow, he tried to convince me it wasn’t all bad by telling me how they used to play in the snow when he was little.

“Logan doesn’t usually talk about him much,” the king said. “He was just a child when he died. It hit him very hard.”

Virgil had noticed that himself.

“It’s good he’s talking about him at least a bit.” The king mused, taking a sip of his drink. “He was the son of a stable hand here, actually.”

“You married a stable hand’s son?” Virgil asked and something about his tone made the king laugh.

“I did,” he confirmed. “We met when we were teenagers about your age. His father had come to work at the castle, and they lived in one of the houses out back. There weren’t many kids in the castle at the time and we both liked the gardens and the orchard, so we ended up friends.”

This knowledge just reaffirmed to Virgil that the king was an odd king. From what little Virgil knew of princes, they were not supposed to befriend the children of stable hands they met in the gardens and kings were certainly not supposed to marry them. Then again, Logan was also a prince and he had befriended an assassin he found in his bedroom. In fact, now that he thought about it, Patton was now a royal advisor in training, but even he was just the son of a chef.

Perhaps the royalty of Prijaznia were just like that. He was once again glad he hadn’t managed to kill the king.

He’d been glad for a while now. At first it had been because he’d gotten to know Logan and knew killing his dad would have made him sad. Now, though, he thought it was a good thing he didn’t kill the king because the king didn’t deserve to die from what Virgil had seen. He was nice.

He even got up and got Virgil more of the apple cider when he finished his first cup of it. He continued to sit with him and talk to him about different things like what Virgil, Logan, and Patton had been doing in the past few days.

Eventually, the king went to go check if the weather was any better, leaving Virgil to finish his third glass of cider.

“It’s snowing less hard now,” the king told him when he got back, “but it’s still snowing. It’s also going to start to get dark soon. Do you want to try to go back?”

Virgil didn’t really. He didn’t want to be outside when it was snowing at all, but he also really wanted to be back at the castle before it was night. He’d much prefer to sleep in a bed or even in his closet than somewhere in the stable.

“Yeah, we can try to go back,” Virgil replied.

“Alright,” the king said. He grabbed his coat off the couch from where he’d set it. Virgil had also taken off his coat eventually, so he grabbed his as well. Once they were both dressed, they walked back to the stable door.

Virgil hesitated when he saw the snow. It was better than it had been earlier, but it still was falling fairly hard. He shifted nervously. That was going to be cold.

At least now he could see the castle clearly, so he didn’t have to worry about getting lost in the snow and dying… probably.

“Here,” said the king. He reached for Virgil slowly and Virgil tensed but allowed it. The king took off the hood Virgil had put up and readjusted the cloth hat under it, so it was over his ears before putting the hood back up. He pulled on some strings that Virgil hadn’t realized until right then were designed to tighten the hood so it wouldn’t fall off his head in the wind. Then, the king took off the scarf around his own neck and wrapped it twice around Virgil’s head, so it covered his mouth and nose. The only exposed area of his face was now his eyes.

“Now that will help you get the least amount of snow on you as possible,” the king said.

“Thanks,” Virgil said. It came out a little muffled.

He smiled at him. “Do you,” he asked, sounding a bit awkward, “want to hold my hand?”

He didn’t particularly. He’d held hands with Logan and Patton before, but that was different. This was the king. Then again… he looked out at the snow. He really didn’t want to risk getting lost in the snow and he was less likely to get lost in the snow if he was holding onto someone, especially someone who knew his way around the castle grounds very well.

Biting his lip behind the borrowed scarf, he decided he’d already taken way too many liberties when it came to the king. He shook his head no. “No, thank you.”

“Alright,” said the king. “Offer is open if you change your mind. Ready to go?”

Virgil nodded, grimacing as he stepped out into the cold, the king at his side. Even with the nice winter coat from Logan and the king’s scarf, it was still noticeably cold. Still, he was not cold enough to justify the icy chill that went down his spine and the way his lungs felt frozen solid causing him to pant trying to take in air. It shouldn’t be this way. He’d been in much colder weather for much longer and with a lot less.

“Are you alright?” the king asked when Virgil couldn’t help but slow down to a stop, shivering.

Virgil looked up at him. Unlike Virgil’s face, he had no scarf to protect him from the weather, but he didn’t seem concerned about that. He seemed much more concerned about Virgil. His reddening face was pinched, and he didn’t look like a man as powerful as a king. He looked like… well, he looked like a concerned father, like Logan’s father.

“Can…” Virgil choked out. He held out his hand.

“Of course,” he said. “Like I said, the offer is open.” He reached forward and wrapped his fingers around Virgil’s. Virgil immediately felt the warmth of them, though it may have been more in his head. There were two pairs of thick gloves between their skin.

Logan’s dad led him by the hand all the way back to the castle.

  Chapter 46 (Patton)

Patton hadn’t been aware until Virgil came along what exactly Mr. Deknis did in the winter. Most of his staff had gone home or had winter tasks unrelated to gardening to do, but Mr. Deknis and a few choice members of his staff still apparently did a lot despite not being able to plant anything.

He frequently invited Virgil to join in on these tasks, and Virgil often accepted. Patton wasn’t sure why he seemed to enjoy things like deep cleaning gardening tools and checking over equipment, but he did, so Patton was glad.

“Alright, that’s enough of that for today,” Mr. Deknis said once Virgil finished brushing off the paste that had been applied to remove rust from a hoe.

“Are you sure?” Virgil asked. “I have more time to work. Even if you need to go, I can still work on something. Unless you don’t want me messing with things without supervision…”

“I’m not telling you to leave, Virgil,” Mr. Deknis said with a half-smile. “I just thought you might want to help me out with something else today.”

“Oh, okay. Sure,” Virgil agreed, sounding just a touch excited.

“Let’s put all of this away,” Mr. Deknis said.

Virgil and Patton helped him put things away, though Patton felt more like a hindrance as both Mr. Deknis and Virgil seemed to know exactly where everything in the room went whereas Patton wasn’t sure about some things.

Patton didn’t always come with Virgil when he was helping Mr. Deknis. Sometimes Logan would come instead, and Virgil had been coming alone with increasing frequency over the last month or so.

He seemed to like it. He always seemed to look forward to spending time with Mr. Deknis and not only because Mr. Deknis often bribed him with snacks of dried or pickled fruits and vegetables.

Once the tools and cleaning equipment were stored away, Mr. Deknis led them down the hall. Mr. Deknis had an entire hall to himself on the first floor of the castle which included his bedroom as well as places to dry and can things.

Where he was leading them now was a small study next to his bedroom. Patton had never been there before and by the way Virgil was curiously looking around, neither had he. It was a cute little area with a small desk and a bookshelf full of books that seemed to all be on plants.

“I’m starting to think about what I want to grow in the gardens next year,” Mr. Deknis explained as they crammed into the small office. He pointed to a large piece of paper on his desk.  “This is the plan at the moment, though it’s nowhere near finalized.”

He pointed at an empty square sketched on the large paper. “I was thinking I wanted to plant something new here, but I don’t know what. It’s just a small patch between the vegetable and flower garden. It’s sort of by the one three teared fountain. I usually use that patch for newer plants, so it could be a vegetable or a flower. I was thinking you could help me pick out something to put there.”

Virgil looked up at him, eyes wide.

Mr. Deknis smiled at him. “Would you like to?”

“I…” Virgil said. “I wouldn’t have any idea what to put.”

“Well, I have a few different books of plants you can flip through,” he said. “Any idea what kind of plant you’d like to grow?”

Virgil shrugged.

“I’ll just give you a few for now,” Mr. Deknis said, selecting three different books. “If you can’t find anything you like, just let me know and I’ll give you another book. There are plenty of different types of things to grow. This is just a start.”

“Thank you,” Virgil said, eyes staring down at the field of flowers drawn on the cover of the book on the top of the stack in his arms.

They spent the afternoon on the floor of Mr. Deknis’ living room. The gardener made them some lavender tea and let them eat some candied walnuts and then retreated to an armchair to read his own book about plants.

Patton and Virgil laid on the floor flipping through the different books. Virgil still wasn’t very good at reading, so Patton would read the descriptions of the plants that caught his eye to him. One of the books was about different vegetables and one was about herbs, which of course, did catch Virgil’s attention a bit because of his love for edible things. Yet the pictures of flowers seemed to interest him the most.

They ended up eventually looking only in the flower book. A while after that, it became clear that he preferred flowers in the orchid family verses composite flowers because he liked the shape of their petals better. So, then they focused more on looking at the different types of orchids that existed.

“There are a lot more types of orchids than I knew there were,” Patton said.

“It’s the second largest family of flowers,” Mr. Deknis told them from his chair. “There’s a lot of different kinds, over 28,000 species at least. Vanilla comes from an orchid plant. If there are none in that book you especially want, I could get a book specifically on orchids.”

Virgil, having already flipped through the book multiple times looking at the orchids in it, looked up at him with a bit of excitement in his eyes. “I would like that,” he said. “Yes, please.”

Mr. Deknis’ eyes softened on him, and he got to his feet. “I’ll go see what I have in the office.”

“Getting to grow something in the garden is exciting,” Patton said once Mr. Deknis left.

“Yeah,” Virgil agreed. “It is.”

It was very nice of Mr. Deknis too, Patton thought. He didn’t have to offer to let Virgil plant something, in fact, him happening to have an empty patch in his plans was probably a little bit of a fib, but it was a nice one.

Virgil liked plants, and it would give him something to look forward to over the winter and then something to do in the spring and summer. Honestly, Patton couldn’t wait to see him experience the castle in the spring. He’d already loved it in the fall, let alone when things started to grow. Patton had a feeling he’d be spending a lot more time outside this summer.

Mr. Deknis came back with a good-sized book filled with pictures of flowers. “Why don’t you take this with you for tonight,” he suggested. “It’s almost dinner time. We can talk about it more when you come to help me again on Saturday.”

“Thank you,” Virgil said, taking the book. “I will see you Saturday then.”

“See you Saturday, Virgil,” he said with a smile.

  Chapter 47 (Logan)

Logan and Virgil had gotten into the habit of having reading lessons in the afternoons 3 times a week. They would sit in the small library near the royal wing for an hour or two and do different things. Logan had started with just teaching him letters, but he’d memorized those long ago at this point. Now, Logan would spend most of the time having him read simpler books out loud and correcting any mistakes he made along the way. Improvement was surprisingly fast, though in truth, Logan hadn’t had any measure for how long it would take a teenager to learn to read and Virgil was quite dedicated.

 Usually, their lessons ended with Logan reading a more complicated book while letting him follow along. The last week, they had been reading the library book Virgil had chosen for himself, Into the Mist. It was an interesting book to read to Virgil, though Logan was unsure if it would be as interesting if he were to read it on his own. In truth, it was a good, but rather ordinary fantasy book. Virgil, however, seemed incredibly fascinated by it. He had never heard a high fantasy story before in his life and he was constantly comparing and contrasting things in the book to things he understood in real life as well as asking Logan about them.

 It also became clear that Virgil did not quite understand real life fully. He attributed the same amount of awe to hearing the ocean being described as he did to the main character’s climb up the sky to a cloud city in hopes of saving his love interest’s life. In fact, he seemed more in awe of Logan’s explanation of the ocean since it actually existed. Logan had a sudden intense urge to plan a trip to see an ocean at some point in the future. Lamir was a costal country and its castle sat on top of a cliff that overlooked the sea.

 It would be easy enough to take a trip to their ally’s country at some point.

“So, cloud mites don’t exist?” Virgil confirmed yet again.

“No,” Logan said. “They don’t. In fact, their existence would go against all magical laws since they are sentient without being alive.”

“But crabs do?” Virgil asked.

“Yes.”

“How?”

“Crabs do not go against the natural order of things,” Logan said.

“But why?” Virgil asked.

“I… don’t understand the question.”

“They don’t have the right number of legs.”

“W-what do you mean by that?” Logan asked, confused.

“Animals can only have an even number of legs on either side.”

“No,” Logan said. Virgil nodded vigorously. “What about beetles? Those have 6 legs. Three on each side.”

“But beetles are bug,” Virgil pointed out.

“Bugs are animals,” Logan argued.

“No, they’re not.”

His face was so serious, and he was so sure, that it was funny. “Bugs are animals,” Logan said.

Virgil seemed confused by this. “But they have 6 legs.”

Logan couldn’t help but laughing at that. “Virgil, what do you think and animal is?”

“Well, I don’t know,” Virgil said, pouting slightly at being laughed at. Logan leaned over to bump their shoulder together which seemed to pacify him. “Cows. Birds. Frogs.”

“I think we need to get you a tutor. You are missing some fundamental building blocks in your education.”

 He huffed, peering at the book.

“It’s no fault of your own,” Logan assured. “You are not born with information like that. People were just negligent in teaching you these things.”

Virgil nodded. “That actually reminds me of something.”

“Mmm?” Logan asked.

“There’s something I need to teach you.”

“And what would that be?” Logan asked.

“Survival instincts.”

“What?”

Virgil slammed his hand down on Logan’s desk. “You have no survival instincts,” he declared. “I bet you don’t even know what hemlock tastes like.”

“Isn’t that poisonous.”

“Yes,” Virgil said.

“Then of course I don’t know what it tastes like.”

“Exactly! That’s the problem.”

 “I don’t need to know what poison tastes like, Virgil,” Logan said.

“Yes, you do,” Virgil argued. “It’s an important skill.”

“I think your view of what constitutes as an ‘important skill may be skewed,” Logan said.

“You’re a prince,” Virgil said. “Knowing about poisons is an important skill for you.”

“It’s really not though.”

“You’re at war,” Virgil reminded, “and they already tried to assassinate your father. Do you think they’re not going to send someone else when your father is alive at winter’s end and they’ve heard no word from their assassin? Do you think if they realize you’re not easily manipulatable, they won’t come for you too?”

 “Well, I mean…” Logan said. “You do have a point there.”

“And you need to learn how to climb things and catch things.”

“Why do I need to know how to catch things?”

“We’ve already had this discussion,” Virgil said. “In case someone throws a knife at you.”

Wait. When had they had that conversation?

“And while we’re on the topic of knives, you need to know how to use a knife effectively.”

“I know how to use a knife,” Logan climbed even though he knew he didn’t know how to use a knife in the way Virgil was talking about.

 Virgil, despite having no concept of taxonomic classification, was no fool. “Chopping things for potions doesn’t count,” Virgil said. “I’m talking stabbing lessons. For you and Patton, though to be honest, Patton has an advantage already over you when it comes to using weapons.”

“Why does he…” Logan thought. “Because he managed to get a hit on you with a cookie sheet one time?”

“His reflexes are better,” Virgil said, “as well as his ability to use his environment to his advantage. You’re always completely oblivious about what’s going on around you.”

“Excuse me. I am incredibly observant,” said Logan.

 “How many chairs are in the dinning room we walked through to get here two hours ago?” Virgil asked.

Logan thought for a moment. “I’m not sure.”

“Exactly! You walk by them every day and you don’t even know how many chairs there are in that room.”

“I have no idea what that has to do with anything.”

“How would you know if someone tampered with the chairs if you don’t know how many of them there are or their positions.”

“Tamper with the chairs?” Logan asked. “What are you talking about? I filter out unnecessary information. That doesn’t mean I’m not observant.”

 “Yes, it does,” Virgil said. “Plus, half the time you don’t even know where I am when you know I’m in the same room as you,” Virgil said.

“Well, that’s because you climb on top of things and hide in walls!” Logan said. “That’s hardly fair.”

“You mean I’m quiet and good at hiding like… an assassin might be.”

Logan pursed his lips. Virgil tilted his head and smiled at him. “I am plenty observant,” Logan insisted once again.

“Prove it,” Virgil said.

“And how should I do that?” Logan asked. “Beyond simply memorizing the furniture arrangements?”

Virgil shrugged. “I’m sure you’ll get an opportunity soon.”

  Chapter 48 (Thomas)

Thomas was leaving his office when he ran into his son. Or more accurately, his son almost ran into him. “Is everything alright?” Thomas asked.

“I…” Logan said. His hand came out to grasp Thomas’s shirt sleeve, odd behavior for him at least at this age. He used to do such things when he was very small. “Yes,” he said anyway. “Everything is perfectly fine.” He glanced behind himself down the hall.

Thomas looked at him and then looked down the hallway, concerned by his strange behavior. “Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yes,” Logan said, but he wasn’t letting go of Thomas’s shirt.

 “You seem a bit anxious, Logan,” Thomas said.

“I am not,” Logan denied, releasing his shirt. Thomas caught a glimpse of something moving above their heads. The hallway Thomas’s office was in had large pillars along the outer wall that really no one should be able to scale despite there technically being grooves in them. Yet, there Virgil clung to the chapiter of one of them. Even more bewildering, he was gripping a pouch of some kind in his teeth.

The met eyes briefly. Virgil tilted his head at Thomas. Then, he removed one hand from the pillar. How was he up there? He made a motion with his hand that seemed to be telling Thomas to step back.

 Thomas looked back at his son. Logan hadn’t noticed Virgil, too busy glancing behind him and not looking up. Thomas looked back up at Virgil and took a big step back. The moment he did, Virgil grabbed the bottom of the pouch with his free hand and let go with his teeth. The pouch flipped upside down dropping its contents right onto Logan’s head.

Logan gave a high-pitched shriek that Thomas didn’t think he’d ever heard from him before. “Virgil!” he yelled, now absolutely soaked.

“Learn to look up,” Virgil said seriously, still clinging to the pillar.

“I hate you,” Logan replied.

 “Don’t say things you don’t mean in anger,” Thomas reminded. He was a bit worried Virgil may overreact to Logan saying things like that to him, though he seemed perfectly calm at the moment.

Logan scowled at Thomas. “You’re on his side?! He just dumped water on my head!”

“He needs to be trained to be more observant!” Virgil said.

Logan turned his scowl to Virgil. “Come down here, you intolerable creature! I’m done with your so called training!”

“And what would you do if I did come down?” Virgil said arching an eyebrow, wholly unconcerned. “Quote facts about animals at me?”

 Thomas was unsure what about that comment angered Logan, but it apparently did.

“You little…”

“Boys,” Thomas interrupted. “What’s going on here?”

They both immediately started speaking at once, doing their best to talk over each other. Thomas didn’t catch much of either rants except something about ‘training’ and Virgil ‘stalking the halls’ and an exploding muffin.

“Okay, okay,” Thomas putting a hand up to tell both of them to be quiet. “One at a time. Virgil first.”

“Really?” Logan asked.

“Logan,” Thomas scolded.

He mumbled something under his breath, but he did quiet down.

“Virgil,” Thomas started again. “What’s going on?”

 “I’m training him,” Virgil said.

“Training him?” Thomas asked. “Training him for what?”

“For life,” Virgil answered. “He isn’t observant enough.”

“Ah,” Thomas said, still fairly confused. “And how are you training him?”

“Right now, we’re doing situational awareness training,” Virgil said.

“And how does that translate to you dumping water on his head?” Thomas asked.

“He wouldn’t have gotten water on his head if he’d noticed me,” Virgil answered, seriously. Thomas tried not to laugh at the look on his face.

“That is, perhaps true,” Thomas said. “However, dumping water on people’s heads is not nice. Perhaps there is a nicer way to do this training?”

 “People trying to kill them won’t be nice,” Virgil said.

“No one is trying to kill Logan,” Thomas said.

Virgil just pursed his lips. “Maybe,” Virgil said. “Not yet.”

Thomas was unsure where this fear had come from. Perhaps he had heard about the successful assassination of Lamir’s late queen. Thomas hadn’t exactly publicized the fact that the queen had been killed and not simply died when he’d returned, but he had told certain people including Logan and Patton. It was possible one of them had let it slip and Virgil had freaked out about it.

“Well,” Thomas said. “It still isn’t nice to ruin someone’s day over a threat that doesn’t exist yet.”

 Virgil just huffed at him. He was being surprisingly petulant which actually made Thomas smile just a tad. He’d not even been able to imagine this side of him a month ago. “Why don’t you come down here,” Thomas suggested. “We can talk through the issue and come to a compromise.”

Virgil stared down at him with skeptical eyes.

“Perhaps with tea and cookies?” Thomas suggested.

Virgil tilted his head and slid down the pillar until his feet touched the floor. “What kind of cookies?” he asked.

“We’ll have to see what Helen has made lately,” Thomas said. He turned to Logan and frowned. “You should probably change before you get sick being wet and in the cold.”

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Logan nodded and shivered a little bit and rubbed his own arms. Despite the castle being warm, it was no fun to be completely soaked during the winter. Thomas wasn’t even sure if Virgil would have thought to not use freezing cold water. Even with heating elements, the water in the castle could be very cold if you didn’t wait for a bit for it to warm up. Thomas didn’t think Virgil would have thought too far ahead in this so called training.

“I’ll take Virgil down to the kitchen and get some tea and cookies for all of us,” Thomas told Logan.

 He gave his son a look trying to communicate ‘I’ll talk to him.’ Logan pursed his lips, but nodded, seeming to receive the message. “Why don’t we meet you in the royal dining room, so the conversation is more private?” It would be a much calmer environment than the main dining hall or the kitchens.

“Sure,” Logan agreed, turning to walk off in the direction of the royal wing. The poor thing was huddled in on himself and cold.

Thomas looked over at Virgil and smiled at him softly as Logan left. “Let’s go see what cookies Helen has ready,” he suggested.

  Chapter 49 (Virgil)

“So,” King Thomas said as they walked through the halls towards the kitchens. The path to the kitchens from pretty much anywhere in the castle was familiar to Virgil now. Food was abundant in this place and there were no restrictions on Virgil eating it. There were no restrictions on anyone in the castle eating it, unless you counted Patton’s mother insisting people eat a more varied diet than only cookies. Personally, while Virgil did like cookies, he had no complaints over that matter. “You and Logan seem to be having a disagreement,” Thomas continued.

“I’m right,” Virgil insisted, and he was.

 However, explaining why Virgil was right to the king was a bit difficult when Virgil was hiding why he knew Logan developing survival instincts was important. It was clear that Virgil did not get his point across correctly because the king laughed slightly.

“Everyone believes they are right during a disagreement,” Thomas said. “I’m sure Logan has his own ideas about who is correct.”

Virgil frowned at him. “I am.”

“Perhaps you are both right,” the king suggested.

“But…”

“You cannot dump water on people’s heads in the castle hallways, Virgil,” the king scolded, but it was a gentle scolding and Virgil forced himself to not climb the wall and disappear. He had a point to make. “Especially not in the winter.”

 “He’s the prince,” Virgil argued. “He needs to know how to protect himself in case of danger.”

“That is true,” Thomas conceded. “You are probably correct that we should be making sure the royal family is well protected and can protect themselves. We have been safe for a long time, but there is always a risk.” He seemed contemplative for a moment. “However,” he continued. “The way you are going about it is not correct in my opinion. Clearly, it is not in Logan’s opinion as well.”

“But…”

“You risk making more problems than solving with your strategy,” the king said.

 “Like what?” Virgil asked.

“Well,” Thomas said. “Getting someone wet when it’s cold is never a good idea even inside a castle.” Virgil… could agree with that. “You also could accidently ruin something important by getting water on it if you don’t give warning. Even if you are doing something besides pouring water on his head, if you continue to do things to ‘train’ Logan in the same vein, he is likely to become more paranoid than vigilant.”

“What’s the difference?” Virgil asked.

“Being vigilant means you are prepared for danger around every corner. Being paranoid means you are expecting danger around every corner.”

 “There doesn’t seem like there’s much of a difference,” Virgil said.

“There is,” said the king, as they pushed through a set of double doors. “Take any of the royal guards,” he gestured subtly at the two people guarding the room to the hall they’d just come from. “If a guard is constantly worried that every little sound is a danger and every new person is an enemy, they will waste all of their energy and time chasing down stray rodents and interrogating maids that decided to walk a different path to their destinations. When real danger does appear, they may be too worn out or distracted to react.”

 “However, if the guards are calm and instead of instantly overreacting to every small thing, they make a note of it in case it ends up being something they need to react to later, then they will be prepared to act if there are any actual threats.”

Virgil bit his tongue to stop from mentioning that he’d managed to sneak by the guards to the royal wing the first night he was here. A boy with a cookie sheet had done more against him that King Thomas’s guards.

“That’s why I make sure everyone who works for the castle, especially the guards have not only time off to sleep and eat, but time off for leisure where they are not expected to be hypervigilant.”

 “All people need to have a time and place to feel safe, even the ones whose jobs it is to keep others safe. Logan’s job is not the same as the guards who keep the people in this castle physically safe, but he is training to be king. He needs time to perform his duties and to relax between them. Harassing him all day with survival training is not going to help him.”

“People don’t need to feel safe,” Virgil argued. “They need to be safe.”

The king stopped walking and turned to him. Virgil couldn’t help but cringe a bit as the king studied him.

 “You haven’t had a chance to feel safe very often in your life, have you?” the king asked.

Virgil shrugged, looking away.

“What would make you feel safe?” Thomas asked.

“Logan being safe,” Virgil said.

“Logan is safe, Virgil,” the king tried to argue.

Virgil scowled. “I don’t trust your guards. Even the best guard won’t be able to help if Logan gets trapped alone with someone. He needs to learn self-defense.”

“Well, I’m already planning to up security in the castle when spring comes. Would me asking if he’d be willing to do self-defense training with someone help?”